Royesland [Full]

[CelticSol]

Lockette Kenway​

The bard's heart is pounding like a drum, hard and fast. Lockette knows the reaction to be fear, and the onset is sudden enough for Lockette to raise an eyebrow. Her question was, maybe, pointed, but not threatening - or at least she didn't think so. Maybe the bard was nervous over the scars? Lockette moves from the conversation, groping a rotted window sill for her large, darkly tinted glasses, which, when she fits them over her face, covers most of the more gruesome scar tissue. Or, at least as far as she can tell with her fingers.

She catches the tail end of Riley and the bard's conversation, and she pipes in, "The tree's been cut down for half a century, bard. Y'could ask the friend I sent for a swim in the fountain about the specifics, but as far as I get to hear, it was special to him. Tuesday, I mean. Tuesday is a bit of a dick, as magpies tend to be, and before Tuesday got into fight with the Jarl of Bears, the Jarl came by with an axe and a bone to pick and chopped it down. It was some sort of aide to the Magpie's powers, or something, and I think the Jarl of Bears thought it would give him a leg up. It's only gossip and rumours, though."

Close proximity to the stomping grounds of the fae meant Lockette constantly brushed elbows with them. It was a bit of a tragic thing, really - maybe the curse gave her an affinity to see and speak with the all fae that were otherwise unknown to everyone else. Lockette, as many others in Royesland did to avoid their spite, left treats and treasures out for them to claim as they saw fit, but being able to see the fae coming and going piqued their interest and meant that they often hung around the borders of her home. There were a handful that were bolder than that, and would pester her inside the threshold of her home with pointless fairy gossip. Even if Lockette were interested to known what fairy was fighting with whichever other fairy - which she's not - the fairies were hopelessly lost on the timeline of their own tales. The rebuttal to Lockette daring to point that out was always the same 'oh, what the fuck ever. It was all in the past. I dunno.'

Realizing she's zoned out, Lockette continues, "Regardless, didn't help the Jarl of Bears any, from what I've heard. I have no idea what happened to him, besides the fact that he ended up no longer being the King of the Forest anymore. I'd be curious to know what happened to him and his royal house or whatever - the Donovans' married off one of their daughters to him something like hundred years ago," Lockette pauses, then scoffs to herself, "Goddess, listen to me. I think the woods are getting to me. I'm just info dumping fairy gossip. Anyway, long story short, I think this was the-"

Her brain grinds to a halt on her last thought, and she finishes her sentence after clearing her throat, "... This was the Donovan ancestral home. And Tuesday's tree was here. Not sure how that happened."

A daughter. Disappearing from the mundane town and being married into the fairy courts. One hundred years ago. Who else did Lockette know that used to be local, and now has a one hundred year old, probably-definitely-caused-by-the-fae gap in her memory? And now the Magpie King's mortal friend was here asking about a 'Truffle', who was part of his court?

... Could be a coincidence? Just... a really spot on coincidence? That explains close to everything weird that's happened with Riley?

Only one way to check, Lockette thinks to herself, then asks, "Riley, can I touch your ears for a second?"

"Uh... sure?"

Gently, so she doesn't accidentally hit Riley in the face, Lockette reaches out, brushing Riley's braid out of the way and running her finger on the edge of Riley's ear, which, like Lockette's, comes to a point at the end.

So, not a coincidence. Nothing is ever simple.

"Well, anyway," Lockette says lamely, "I don't know anyone named Truffle." Which was true, because she knew a Riley, not a Truffle. "Riley doesn't know anyone named Truffle." Which was true, because Riley's memory was filled with nothing. "So... Is there anything else I can do for you? Because I've got a roof to rebuild."

 

[CelticSol]

Jacqueline Sapienti​

"I guess," Jackie says, to a completely reasonable assumption. She's never known Tom to be a wizard - in the sense of a wizard that lived in a tower and did work for locals and wrote notes. She knew Tom in chaos, casting spells with abandon in a crisis and hoping one sticks in a way that's helpful. It felt like a hilarious dichotomy, knowing a disaster gay mess of a man desperate to usurp a king and rescue his boyfriend for five years, and then be confronted with the reality she'd heard about that he was a dependable, well-liked member of a community.

Testing whether Cathal's manifesting still works, Jackie attempts to pull a pre-rolled cigarette from her jacket, sticking it between her teeth, "Maybe he can use his wizardry to help rebuild the fountain once his memory isn't soup," Jackie says around her cigarette, pulling a match out and striking it against the matchbook to ignite the match and light her cigarette. She gets it lit just as the match falls through her fingers, and she scowls as she has to stamp out the match.

"Thanks for nothing," She mutters to her hands, shuffling her cigarette to the corner of her mouth with her tongue so she can exhale out of the corner of her mouth. "In hindsight, I don't think I'll be very much help with groceries. No hands and all, can't even carry anything."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"Oh, but you'll be company," Cathal said, leading the way to the bridge as Jackie fussed with her cigarette. "Do you know how nice it is to talk to someone? And even better, reasonably expect to be answered?" He spun in a little to circle, walking backwards to face her as he talked, unable to keep from smiling. He was here, and so was Tom, and the sun was shining and the air was warm, and everything would be alright. "Listen, I'll cook you all dinner. We'll get a fish, I'll make bread. It'll be great," he promised.

The market was in full swing around the wreckage of the fountain, and as they bought milk, and butter, and buttermilk, several townsfolk appeared to grab Cathal by the shoulders and exclaim that he was back, and so was Tom! Had he seen Tom? Of course he'd seen Tom, Cathal assured them, and bought potatoes and turnips and bok choy and got more comments of the same.

They were at the fish market, examining salmon nearly the size of Cathal, when someone asked a new question. "So, when's the wedding?" Morgana asked him, thrusting a slightly smaller salmon (that was still, Cathal expected, a good fifty pounds), into his arms.

"Uh," Cathal said. "It's going to be a long engagement," he said.

 

[CelticSol]

Jacqueline "Jackie" Sapienti
​

Despite herself, Jackie smiles, "I cannot stress to you enough that the bar is on the fucking ground. And if your manifesting doesn't work, I might need someone to feed me. But if you're willing to put up with me and feeding me like a baby, hell fuckin' yeah."

The market is bustling, far busier than she would've thought considering that they dropped a tower over the center point of the townsquare. She finishes her cigarette and spits it on the ground, stamping it out with her foot. Everyone is extremely excited about Cathal's return, asking about Cathal and Tom and them being together, and how nice that is, until Jackie just tunes it out, because she's starting to feel an ache from Xanth's lightning strike on her side. She tries to rub it to soothe the burning with a grimace, only for her hand to pass through.

She ignores it until she can't hold her tongue anymore, and to some poor woman handing off a salmon to Cathal, she snaps, "Did it occur to you to check and see whether or not Tom concussed himself into the next decade getting pelted in the head with a fountain stone? Unless you missed the rubble in the square. Or if Cathal is personally okay? No follow up questions to the fact he's just been missing all this time? Jesus Christ, guys." She scoffs bitterly, then feels bad about it immediately, and wanders away from the poor woman asking a polite question, and can't even do anything with her hands because they keep phasing through her pockets.

 

[theunearthlyfool]

Molly​

Molly blinked to hear Lockette suddenly share so much local lore. This felt more like what she’d come out here for, or would have if it had made more sense. Half a century? But I thought she said she personally had kept magpies in the tree? She eyed Riley quizzically. Magic could make people age strangely- Godmother’s hair had only been completely white for a few years when she died, though Molly knew she’d been nearly two hundred years old by then- so she figured fae nonsense must as well. But it seemed as though Lockette was also confused by the story they told; though their sunglasses hid their eyes, the frown that developed as they spoke implied something didn’t add up to them, either.

Oddest of all (had Molly not known exactly what Lockette was looking for) they asked to feel Riley’s ears and had just a hint of resignation to their tone when they implied Molly should be on her way. How could you not know your partner was fae-touched when you yourself are? she wondered silently, but held her tongue.

Things unspoken hung heavily in the clearing around the dilapidated cabin. Molly hated to leave when she was finally getting some information, but none of it seemed to fit together and any clarifying questions she had were certainly far too personal for a stranger to ask. She needed to figure out what to do next, sort out what she’d learned. Really she’d taken up too much of these peoples’ time as it was.

“No, thank you very much, though. Sorry to have pulled you away from your work!” she tucked her necklace back in the top of her dress. Although she had a feeling Truffle wouldn’t be appearing of her own accord, to keep up her act (and also just in case) she said, “I’m staying at the Silver Prawn. If you do happen to hear something, and it’s not too inconvenient, may I request you pass word on to me there, please? Or I’ll just be around the Port for a while longer. You know, whatever. Whatever works!”

She took a step back towards the path she’d come up. “I really do appreciate it! Good luck with your roof!” After hesitating a moment longer, Molly turned and began back towards town, her thoughts reeling.

Nicola​

Having never really been close with anybody before she joined the Irregulars, much less more than one person, it would never have occurred to Nicola that sometimes you can spend too much time with someone even if you love them. She had spent the better part of the last five-odd years in the constant company of Tom, Jackie, and Finn. This made interacting with the enthusiastic Quill especially novel, although they truly were a joy all by themselves.

Her eyes lit up as they folded the parchment into a little envelope and gently slid the dried flower inside. "Oh my stars, thank you," she said, touched. "I'll bring this back to you as soon as I can."

Something caught the corner of her eye. To her surprise and delight, a red-gold catfish was waddling across the counter towards her. “Well hello, sweetie!” she exclaimed softly, reaching out to pat its little head. “You’re a ways from home! Or do you live here?” It made a funny little croak in reply, eliciting an “aaawwwwww” from the usually dignified (former) sorcerer.

 

[TrashRabbit]

"Pol just brought him home today- are you keeping him Pol?" Quill asked, "Folks bring them inside for the flower fesitval for luck then let them go again. That's comming up I guess. Bet Morgana is out there trying to catch them all ahead of everyone."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Cathal looked at Jackie in confusion at her outburst. "Jackie, that--" he started, but she was already fleeing the scene, and he sighed. "She's having a rough day, I'm sorry," he told Morgana. "How's the catfish haul this year?" he asked, looking at the little basket of round red and gold creatures she had with her, because he absolutely did not want her to ask anything about where he'd been. Oh, I've been around. You remember Bathtub? The cat? Surprise!

 

[TrashRabbit]

Morgana frowned and watched jackie go, "Well I'll say-" She said but accpeted Cathal's apology in stride; "Less this year than last, but I think Irwin has been out in the moors ahead of me, you know how he is. Show up last minute after I sell out. but I'm a litlte concerned. Usualy theres more than you can catch you know- not so much this year." she didn't come out and say but her face darkened. It was against the godess to hunt Catfish after all, they were gentle creatures.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"Sure, he's tricksy like that," Cathal agreed, but it something about the statement filled him with unease. He paid for the big salmon and a jar of roe and carried the whole fish over to where Jackie had gone to sulk. "I don't know what the done thing is where you're from," Cathal told her, "But in Port of Pearls, you don't ask someone where they've been if they go missing. We live next to a fairy forest. They all think they know where I've been, and it's impolite to ask about it."

 

[CelticSol]

Jacqueline "Jackie" Sapienti​

"I grew up where the done thing is to ask people if they're okay if they went missing. Like a reasonable person? What if you, I don't know, got kidnapped by a sicko? What if you got hurt in the woods and no one even dared to look for you? What if you got sick, or- or something. I -" She scoffs, "Fairy woods or not, I can't fucking believe that - that's - that's fucking insane to me. Everyone is over the fucking moon at you being back, but - not a single person in town is even going to ask if you're alright? You could've been dead, and everyone would just never talk about you again, in the off chance you got spirited away? What the fuck is that?"

She rubs her side, and makes contact this time, and furiously rubs the scar there, the burn so much now that it springs tears to her eyes, "Holy fuck, when my husband went missing, I tore up heaven and earth looking for him. And - y'know what? When I found him, he was fucking dead, Cathal. And these people that love you and know you won't ask you if you're doing alright or if Tom's okay because of politeness? Like, are you doing okay, Cathal? I have no fucking idea how in the ever-loving Hell you're holding together with this much composure. And - and - why the fuck does this scar hurt so fucking much?"

She yanks her shirt up her side to expose it, but it looks as it has since the healer patched it up - a smooth, clean application of gauze covering over a jagged scar through her waist. She drops her shirt, then digs the heels of her hands into her eyes, "I am sorry that I'm so fucking miserable. Everything seems to just rub at my nerves."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Cathal sighed, adjusting his grip on the fish. "They looked, Jackie. I know they did. I saw them. Tom set the forest on end going into it looking for me, and then they kept an eye out after he left. They know that if I need them I'll come to them, and I know I can go to any one of them if I need to. They aren't going to ask me to lay myself out for inspection while I'm just trying to buy supper." He shrugged at her question. "Of course I'm not okay, but I'm doing what needs doing. I spent too long not being able to do that much."

And then he frowned as Jackie revealed the scar. "Ooooooh," he said, focusing on it. "Jackie. Love. It hurts because it's cursed. No wonder you're in a mood."

 

[CelticSol]

Jacqueline "Jackie" Sapienti​

She's double cursed. What a topping to her day.

"Oh..." She says, instead of more of her bitterness. As her anger fades, so, too, does her pain. She blinks at Cathal. Then she says, "I would say the issue with my attitude is being cursed, but I'm afraid I'm constantly intolerable."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Cathal laughed. "If you weren't intolerable I imagine you wouldn't get on so well with Tom," he said. "Don't you worry though, it may take a little time, but we'll get you put to rights. Curses are made to be broken, after all. Now, let's get this fish home, and we'll get dinner started, hm?"

 

[theunearthlyfool]

Molly​

The things she knew, the things she thought she knew, and the things she still wondered crowded Molly’s head as she walked up the path. She hadn’t gone far from Magpie House before finding herself slinging her guitar off her back and sitting down beside the path, her back against a tree. Drawing her journal and a pencil out of the storage pocket in her guitar case, she turned to a blank page and started doodling.

It wasn’t that she regretted walking out to the woods today. What Riley and Lockette had told her was more confusing than truly helpful, but it was still more information than she’d had this morning. The possible implications of what she thought she understood from all this chased one another around her mind, concocting one outlandish explanation after another (culminating in one where Riley Donovan was actually Truffle but had lost her memories, like Tom had, because she was the only one who could rescue Tuesday and bring him back to the forest but some fiendish character, probably that Duke of Foxes, was trying to get rid of them). Now that’s jumping to conclusions, she thought to herself with a chuckle. Just because she’s a fae-touched woman who likes magpies doesn’t mean she’s Truffle.

Not that Molly even knew what she would do, she realized, if she actually found Tuesday’s childhood friend. Her nosiness and urge to be helpful had brought her out to the woods before she had put any real thought into it. Say she found Truffle and got her to go back to Port of Pearls, and then she whisked Tuesday back off to the forest to kick the Duke of Foxes’ ass and restore him to his throne. What then? What will you do when he’s got his powers back? Molly had turned down “invitations” to join fae courts before, but they’d really been thinly veiled threats; she hadn’t been given a choice in the matter, and only got away thanks to Godmother’s sacrifice the first time and sheer dumb luck the second. Those faeries had wanted to use her and her power, but Tuesday didn’t, she was pretty sure. If given a real choice, would she go willingly?

Why do you care so much, anyway? Molly asked herself. Just because their hopes rested on Truffle because there weren’t any powerful mages around right this minute, didn’t mean somebody who could fix Tuesday would never pass through the Port someday. Maybe Tom’s memory or Nicola’s magic would come back. But if that didn’t happen either… sometimes things happened that set peoples’ lives on entirely different paths than they’d started on. Forest kings came and went. A magpie could become a faerie could become a human, why not? Magic was weird like that. And it was far less strange to be in love with a man than it was with a faerie, especially one who was actually a bird. Not that I’m in love with Tuesday, she thought hastily, her face going red.

Love or not, though, she did actually know why she cared: just because she had no attachment to these woods and this town didn’t mean turning a blind eye to its residents’ suffering was morally acceptable. First of all, it was reprehensible to consider, even through inaction, making him stay mortal just because she (maybe!) fancied him. She was ashamed of herself for even thinking about it. And anyway, he’d had some of the most miserable days of his life as a human; not to mention Cathal, Tom, and the others. Maybe someday somebody could help them all, but until then they’d still be having a terrible time. Sure she was just one little bard, but if she could do something to help any of them, she should and would do it. It was just the right thing to do.

She smiled sadly. When he’s a king again I doubt he’ll have any interest in me anymore, anyway. The only reason he even started talking to me was that accidental dancing spell; I probably enchanted him without realizing it. Molly sighed. Poor guy. I’m just adding to his troubles.

A familiar voice startled her out of her reverie. “Oh hey, Mol. What’re you doing out here?”

With a squeak of surprise Molly looked up to see her sister standing before her, a bag packed full of stuff slung across one shoulder. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Nicola apologized.

 

[CelticSol]

Jacqueline "Jackie" Sapienti​

"Oh, a backhanded compliment. How very Irish of you," Jackie comments, but she's smiling and her tone has no bite, "I don't think that's how curses work, but I like the energy."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Cathal grinned back, leading the way back to the tower. "It's absolutely how curses work. They're not fun, and they're meant to punish, but they don't last forever. It might take us a bit, but we'll get you put to rights."

 

[Nimbus]

Apollo

encounters a doppelganger!

Pol positively beamed as he served customers at the shop, chitchatting with everyone around orders, inquiries and refills. This manifested in a faint but visible glow about his person. When anyone mentioned it, he replied, "Why, thank you," as though it were some new comb or ribbon for his hair.

Quill - lovely, dazzling ebullient Quill - was helping a shortish, red-headed woman with a particular request, impressing her with their knowledge and an actual specimen of some local flower. She wasn't the only one charmed.

Pol glanced back admiringly at Quill when he was pretty certain they didn't notice him. It really was a shame this moss orchid was so delicate. Pol should have liked to have braided some of those brilliant blossoms I to Quill's hair.

The moss orchid lady noticed the latest addition to the shop. She immediately took an interest in the catfish, patting it on the top of its scaly pate.

Pol stifled a giggle as it gawped at her. She looked vaguely familiar, he realized, but some gut feeling told him her voice was novel, for some reason, as she cooed at the amphibian.

Quill asked Pol if he would keep the catfish, or release it, as was apparently common on this next local holiday. It never occurred to Pol to relinquish the catfish back to its rivers. Maybe that was because it had hitched a ride with him not so very long ago. Or maybe Pol was getting attached to the idea of a little pond in back of the shop, where the catfish could swim and make it's weird noises in relative comfort and safety.

In mid pivot, Pol started, "Oh, I dunno maybe I w-"

Pol blinked as he really saw this new customer. She had new pants, and no guitar her voice was a tad off from how he remembered it, but he was quite certain the pleasant but harried bard who hung around the market square couldn't be mistaken for some local. And, you know, Port of Pearls had so few strangers this far past the Silver Prawn.

"M-molly Sill?"

He flapped in surprise. The catfish tapped anxiously and hopped back into Pol's sleeve. The wizardling gave his presumed friend a great big lifting hug, for he missed her, and more importantly, the chance to jaw about Molly-relevant subjects.

"Oh gooosh it has been an entire age since we've seen you! Come up with any new songs? Studying a new instrument? Oh did you -hear- what Tuesday did earlier today? You can bet I set him to rights on your behalf. Oh but Lord Bath, the poor dear! If you see him, could you send him my love? Maybe a small boop on the nose if he isn't too cranky? He was on a mission and quite disappeared, or I would've nursed the handsome lad to hale health myself.

Molly mumbled her apologies and darted out the door almost as soon as Pol released her.

"Oh dear, she must be in a hurry. You don't think our girl's in a bind, do you darling?" Pol asked Quill, leaning on the till as though he was a part of the fixture.

"Maybe...maybe we should go after her?"

 

[theunearthlyfool]

“What a lovely tradition,” Nicola said of bringing home fishy guests for the flower festival. “I hope you have a pleasant visit, little one~” and she booped the little fish on the nose.

A voice exclaimed something off behind her and at first she didn’t register what they said. In a flurry of motion the catfish scurried away, disappearing into the sleeves of the other person in the shop in Qin robes, who’d suddenly appeared behind her-

“M-Molly Sill?”

“Oh, I’m not- eep!” The excited man swept Nicola up in a great hug, lifting her well off her feet. He rattled on about something Tuesday had done to a- Lord Who?? Stunned by the hug she gawped much like the fish until he put her down, and still then couldn’t get a word in to explain that she wasn’t Molly. That’s what I get for borrowing a jumper from her, I guess, Nicola thought irritably (having arrived in the Port with only the clothes she’d been wearing and been too busy to find herself some new ones).

Finally she gave up trying to correct him. Hurriedly pulling a handful of coins from her money pouch, she piled well more than the ingredients were worth on Quill’s counter. “Well thank you again so much for your time, really you’ve been amazing-” Nicola interjected loudly once the man paused for breath. She scooped the things Quill had piled before her into the bag she’d stolen and backed away, slowly at first and then very quickly. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me and I’ll get this sample back just as soon as I can it’s been lovely thank you have a nice day!!”

She felt bad as she fled, for rushing into the tea shop to demand Quill's attention before rushing right back out again. Nicola told herself it’s because she had to get in and out of the Fairy Woods before it got dark: nothing to do with the fact she’d made a fool of herself in front of Molly’s friends. So instead of bothering someone to guide her, she’d just memorized Quill's directions and began on her way. Later when the others were doing better she'd thank Quill properly for their hospitality, maybe with some kind of little gift (and hope she never encountered that friend of her sister's ever again).

Off Nicola walked to the forest at a steady pace, soon forgetting the teashop encounter and instead mulling over the logistics of getting back to the tower once she had the flowers. As she came around a bend she was surprised to see her sister sitting against a tree by the road, guitar case at her side. Molly seemed to be writing in a notebook, looking thoughtful and a little sad. Must be writing a new song or something, Nicola thought, approaching her.

“Nicola! Hey!” Molly snapped her journal closed, scrambling to her feet.

She'd intentionally walked rather loudly up to her, not wanting to startle her but Molly didn't look up until she spoke anyhow. “You don’t have to get up-” she started to say.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Molly dusted herself off. “Went for a walk, got distracted thinking some thinky thoughts. What’s up with you?”

“Thinky thoughts?” Nicola smirked. “Awesome news though: I found a cure for Jackie’s incorporeality curse among Tom’s notes up in his tower! Believe it or not, ya boy Tuesday likes to put the same spell on people sometimes, so Tom has a potion all done up for it.”

“He’s not my-”

“The apothecary in town had almost all the ingredients except for one, so I’m heading to find that now. Wanna come with?”

“With?” Molly glanced in the direction Nicola had been headed. “Into the Fairy Woods?”

“Yeah, it’s called a moss orchid. Ever heard of it?” Her sister had already started walking again. Molly scrambled to collect her things and catch up to her.

“Uhh no, I don’t think so.” She felt silly walking right by Magpie House to go deeper into the woods when she’d just told Lockette she knew better than to go wandering into fae territory. “But the Fairy Woods, Nic? Really?”

“I know faeries make you nervous, but Quill- that’s the apothecary, they own that lovely tea shop? Anyway, according to them the only place this flower grows is in the moss on trees deep in the Fairy Woods. But they also said it wasn’t all that dangerous. And I need fresh moss-orchids to complete this potion. So, yes. Really.”

Fortunately Nicola had set a quick enough pace she didn’t have time to do much more than wave awkwardly at Riley and Lockette as the sisters passed, and Nicola didn’t even seem to notice them. “And even if someone takes an interest in us, you’ve got the favor of their king, right? So it’ll be fine.”

“Uh, I’m not sure how much that favor is worth right now. He’s kinda been deposed, or something.” Molly flushed. “If I even had it, which I don’t know that I actually do, how would I prove it anyway?”

Nicola gave her a knowing look. “Oh, you have his favor all right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hehehe.”

Molly stopped just inside the trees past Magpie House. “Hey, how do I know you’re not some faerie disguised as my sister, trying to lure me into the forest?”

Said sister rolled her eyes. “I mean, I guess you don- is that a hag stone? Really, Molly?”

She frowned, but not because it wasn't really Nicola. This was definitely her twin, but something was wrong with her aura. It was a murky, clouded indigo; pulsing weakly she could see a faint purple halo where Nicola's magic had once been. Was it truly gone, leaving only a ghostly echo behind? Or could this haze be cleared, returning her to her true strength once more? Molly didn't know enough about magic to tell.

Lowering the stone, she tried to hide the worry on her face. "Can't be too careful."

"Fair enough, I guess," Nicola teased her, though she did understand. Fae were tricky and the two of them were headed for the middle of their stomping grounds. But Quill said the local fair folk are pretty mild, and Molly's got her guitar. If we really get into a pinch I can probably instruct her on how to magic us out. She didn't dare actually think the words "everything will be fine" because she wasn't a complete idiot. But as they ventured deeper into the woods, Nicola wasn't concerned.

 

[TrashRabbit]

Riley​

Riley has a lot of complicated thoughts about that encounter. Mostly she was flustered form Lockette touching her ears- what was so special about her ears? She wasn't the only one with pointed ear in town after all? She puts her hands on her hips and watches molly go, "What a weirdo," She says to Lockette. "Guess this feather is magic?" She says looking down at it, "Should I be concerned about that, do you think?"

 

[CelticSol]

Lockette Kenway​

Nothing is said in the moments where Molly walks away; Lockette keeps her head ducked and stays very still, leaned up against the doorway. She waits until the crunching of leaves under the bard's feet is so quiet that not even Lockette can hear it, and then she chooses to speak, as sure as she can be that she and Riley are alone, "Right now, the worst we have to contest with is a mortal bard, so we should be fine."

It's accurate wording, but it makes her mouth twist to speak that way - mortal, implying that they were not. It felt odd to be frank, speaking in terms of what she was, rather than what she pretended to be, and though the words slipped past her lips naturally, it felt wrong to speak them. Being honest was wrong, and her heart lurched every time the honesty was spoken in a way that bordered on painful. She rubs absently at her sternum. It rubs raw, the feeling of being exposed, and knowing that the silver scales on her arms are visible to the world at this moment, but Riley's presence at her side calms her enough to ignore the compulsion to fix her sleeves to the ends of her wrist.

Though her stress of exposure and vulnerability still send shocks of anxiety through her, she still feels more able to focus on the warmth she still feels tingling in her fingertips from touching Riley's ear.

Which, she knows is the dumbest lesbian thing she's ever thought to date, but alas.

Lockette clears her throat, then says, "Which is to say, as long as it stays that way, I don't see us having an issue. Although, I don't trust Tuesday to stay out of my business, should she tell him of what she saw. Worst case scenario, I know I can throw him into a fountain and there's nothing he can do about that, so that makes me feel better."

 

[TrashRabbit]

Riley​

She's oblivious to the fact that Lockette is having a vulnerable moment, as is her nature. She continues to stand close by and twiddle the feather between her fingers in thought.
"MMmmm, your not wrong," She says. She tries not smile. She had been poking lockette for answers just earlier and was serendipitus that Molly blew threw there lives however briefly.
"What is the barefoot contessa's deal anyway? You keep mentioning him like he's important. Isn't he some Nudist the Sherrif chased out the silo or something?"

 

[CelticSol]

Lockette Kenway​

Riley is close enough to feel her warmth, and Lockette tries not to think about, and she tries not to move away, because the proximity is fogging her brain, and she tries to focus on what she's saying so she doesn't sound stupid. She's not sure, but she thinks she hears a smile in Riley's voice, which might've made her combust into humilitated flames if Lockette were not pleased to have made Riley smile.

"I don't know if I'd go as far as to say important, but he's someone," Lockette says, steadier than she feels, "Relevant, I would say, but not important. He's a fairy with a bad attitude, mostly. Some of the other fae decided to fight him about it, someone turned him into a person, and now he's a local, in-town pest that I've thrown into a fountain. How the mighty fall and all that. He never spoke to me directly, but I've heard lots about him."

 

[TrashRabbit]

Riley
​

"And then I walk out of the forest just a little after?" She says thoughtfully, "Do you think something has occurred? In the forest I mean? What have you heard- I know some times you speak to things that live around here. I've heard you."

 

[CelticSol]

Lockette Kenway​

Lockette flushes brightly to know Riley has noticed her speaking with the spirits and fae that frequent the farm, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, "Yeah, well, they make themselves known and the ones that choose to speak love nothing more than gossiping." She shrugs, crossing her arms, "I don't know what's happened for sure, but a little while ago, shit went down in the woods. A foreign fae king came by, someone killed the King of Cats, and now Tuesday isn't in the woods anymore, which isn't great. I said he isn't anyone important and that he's a pest, and that's all true, but he was important. He was the King of the Fairies until then. I haven't heard that anyone took his spot, so it's really messy in the woods right now. It's empty and Tuesday can't reclaim that spot, so it's probably not going to be safe to go into the woods until later this year, when we have Tithe."

"As far as things go for you... I don't know. I think we both know the answer to that question, though, don't we?" The migraine Lockette was trying to fight off from all this shit was making a nasty resurgence, and she rubs her temples with her thumb and index finger, "We should call it for today. I need to make myself something for my head and I think we're at a good spot to stop, anyway. Shall we head back?"

 

[TrashRabbit]

"Mm, sure," Riley says easily letting the feather drop and hang against her shirt once more. Lockette was a hermit, who hated events almost as much as people and she didn't want to push her host more than she had to. "I'll make you some tea to make up for all this nonsense." internally though she was making plans- she was going to have to find Molly and Tuesday at some point and shake them down for answers.