Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)

27th of December 2006 A.D.

She deserves better than this, you think as you watch the girl, one of the most powerful beings in the Summer Court hug herself, as though trying to hold herself physically together. I owe it to her as well. If it weren't for Lilly, if it weren't that that flash of Summer Fire in Harry's hands I wouldn't be here.

Carefully, oh so carefully you say: "You know there's a odd owl in the south-east, they call it the burrowing owl, it doesn't roost in trees or on houses high up. What it does it is finds the burrows of prairie dogs and lives in there. Even though it can't dig since it has claws and wings, it can still live in the places it likes. Just needs a little help."

A look of desperate hope steals across her features is heartbreaking and terrifying in light of Usum's warning. "That sounds like a very lucky bird. I can just imagine a Saturday morning cartoon where this puffy white owl gets into the tunnels and there is a prairie dog in there. They can have kind of a buddy cop dynamic as they work out some kind of accommodation."

Lost 1 Willpower -> Now at 7/9 (+1 Success to an Expression Roll)

OK cartoons, I can do cartoons... "That sounds cool, maybe it would have an environmental message about how every creature on the prairie has its place and they all deserve shelter. Maybe the prairie dog wants to get into business too, be an architect for the owls. There would be a lot of owls around of course."

"So these owl houses would do more than than just to make them feel more at home right?" The Summer Lady turns her head, a cascade of snow-white hair hiding her face, though it does not hide the tremble in her voice.

"Sure, I mean houses are shelter."

"That sounds like a really fun show," she offers a brilliant smile. "Hey, didn't I hear you got like a movie studio? Maybe you could get them to help you make it."

Outwardly you giggle at the idea of Red Star Productions making cartoons, but you hear the question under the question loud and clear: How long do you need to set this up? "It would take us a few months at least to get our ducks, or is that gofers, in a row."

Lilly sits down, seeming more relaxed as she lays her head back to bask in the half-real sun of the garden. "It's nice to talk about this stuff, to talk around a bit, not a lot of people to talk cartoons around here. Mostly it's just 'ho hum we are hoity-toity nobles, children of Danu', but Tinker Bell is a fairy too."

So any listeners are not going to have the context to decode that little talk. "For what it's worth Lilly, I believe in you."

The rest of the afternoon goes down in a lot less seriously since code or no Lilly meant that bit about not having many people her age to talk to. There is Fix of course, they have known each other for most of their lives, but there is only so much one can share with any one person, 'especially when that person is a guy'. There's more than a wink and a giggle to be had here though. She is desperately lonely in a way you find hard to even understand, as much as you might fight with your mother or find your siblings annoying sometimes they are always there if you need to fall back on someone to talk to.

So she talks about them, about Meryl who had given herself to Winter just so that she might help in battle only to be killed in it, about Ace the one who ran, worked with the Red Court and then ran. Not just the end, not just the parts that hurt, the stupid stories that every friend group shares, 'the ups and downs and right 'arounds as she puts it. "...so then Meryl says 'Lilly, that's straight tonic no gin, we haven't given you any alcohol since the first glass. How are you this drunk?' And 'I say are you sure, I'm having a blast.'..."

Finally she talks a little about about Ronald the Summer-Knight-Who-Was, the closest thing to a father she had ever known, the only one who ever been able to really stand up to her.

"Able?" you ask, despite yourself. If you do not ask now she's going to bottle it up again you're sure, as sure as you are she wants to talk about this to someone.

"I've always been pretty, not like this but enough especially since I was willing to show it off. There have always been men willing to protect me, or try to at least. But with Slade... there wasn't anyone who could do it until Ronald. That is how it goes right, winter and summer evenly matched, its our place to keep them from unleashing savagery upon the world, all things in balance?"

"No, fuck that!" Your blood boils, maybe literally with the flash of burning Essence inwards. "You getting hurt was not just part of some inevitable cosmic dance that can only be seen from three million miles up. Your pain mattered then and it matters now. Whatever Slade did to you he did of his own will not because of the Mantle he bore. Colored by Winter's power or not his mind was his own."

Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 11/15 (Leadership Excellency)

"He would make me dance. In front... in front of... of everyone." There's so much unsaid in those pauses, a knots of pain and shame all wrapped in anger. "I wish I could hurt him now, even though that is not something I'm owed, even though I wouldn't be as good at it than Mab anyway."

Something about her tone tells you that you are hearing the echo of a conversation she has with someone probably a lot of conversations, probably with Titania. Firmly you remind yourself that summoning the Queen of Summer just so you could yell at her wouldn't be helpful. "Do you want to know what I think?" you ask, once you're sure the words will come out calmly.

The only answer is a sniffle. Maybe you shouldn't be surprised, but even that is pretty. When the Summer Lady cries it's beautiful as the sigh of the wind though willow branches. She pulls out a handkerchief, daubs her eyes leaving behind tears like liquid moonlight. Looking embarrassed, but also just the littlest bit relieved she nods. "What?"

"I don't think you just want to hurt Slade, you want retribution, justice and whatever the hell Mab's doing to Slade now, no matter how much pain he's in, isn't justice."

Lilly isn't looking at you now, she's staring at the trunk of the jacaranda behind you as though the patterns in the bark hold some hidden secret. "Justice," she sounds it out slowly, as though trying the word out. "Yeah, I want him to admit that it was wrong, I want them all to admit that. How silly is that? How human?"

"I don't think it is silly at all and I do not think us humans have a monopoly on justice," you answer, sure of that as you are of your own name.

Her answering smile is a little watery, a little uneven, for just a moment it's like you can see into the past to changeling-Lilly who shared an apartment with a roommate that didn't always do the dishes, who laughed too hard at movies and thought she was a lot better at karaoke than she really was, before Aurora, before the Mantle found her. She gently folds the handkerchief and hands it to you. "For listening."

Part of you really wants to refuse, the idea of profiting from all this makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, but it is the nature of the fey to offer boons in place of thanks so you take it, tuck it away safe and say farewell to the Summer Lady, to a new friend.

Gained Tears of the Summer Lady
A square of plain white silk stained silver, the tears of an immortal mourning her lost mortality


Just as the last rays of the sun paint the sky warm reds and purples, in stark contrast to the snow still on the ground Black Rider pulls into the driveway, expecting to find Mom in the living room, maybe with some tea and snacks on the table if she was really on edge about the talk. What you did not expect was for her to call you upstairs to her and Dad's bedroom and close the door once you are inside and even less did you expect her to be holding a handful of, papers, and one dogeared photograph. "Your dad told me that he told you about... how we met. I'm glad it was him and not... not what did you call her Tiffany?"

"That or Lash, it's what Harry calls her." That time you incarnated part of a Fallen Angel suddenly feels like a more comfortable conversation than this.

"Of course he would. I'll stick with something that's not a pet name for a demon, thank you," she sniffs.

"It's not..." you trail off, it does kind of sound like the kind of name a guy would give his girlfriend. Now you'll never be able to unthink it. Shaking off the thought you return to more important matters. "You don't have to talk about if it you don't want to Mom. I get it. When Dad says he finds it hard to be charitable to someone there's not much reason for charity."

It's only when she smiles in response that you realize the accidental pun. "Not much reason for me is there?"

You rolls your eyes a little, but Mom's expression settles back into being not sad, but pensive, almost instantly.

"Every time one of you kids was born I wrote a letter to my parents, or at least I tried." She crumples the papers, no, the letters a little. "I could never get more than halfway, the first one is just 'Dear Mother and Father' and a lot of crossed out lines. I told myself they would not believe what happened anyway, so better not to brand myself a liar in their eyes again, then I told myself that they would be safer not knowing me anymore. What if someone came after them? Being honest with myself with myself I... I didn't trust them with you kids. If something happened to Michael and me I did not want you to end up back in Boston. But now you are an adult there's no more 'ending up'. You should know. "

What questions do you have for Charity?

[] What was it like growing up in Boston

[] When and how did she find she had magic

[] Write in

OOC: Welp this was a rather long update, but I think it is narratively consistent at least.