Fair point, she can do things that are utterly beyond the norm of mortal wizards is the point.
Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)
- Thread starter DragonParadox
- Start date
- Crossover Fantasy
Fair point, she can do things that are utterly beyond the norm of mortal wizards is the point.
Modus_Tollens
SCREAMING AT THE APOCALYPSE
- Location
- ALSO SCREAMING.
[X] As Molly Carpenter, jeans and a T-shirt, you are above all else human
OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
What about a Green Sunflower? That might give them something to chew on.
1) Not you specifically, and I apologize if I caused offense.
But some of the counter-arguments I have been responding to have been predicated on the idea that the Fae dont know who we are, or cant tell.
This is despite Lily recognizing us, and telling us that she knows we did something for Maeve.
Despite the fact that the Archive tells us straight up that the common rumor mill of the Fae know enough to mark Molly and her parentage on sight, and do know of her dealings with Mab, despite not knowing the details.
2)I dont really see it helping.
Signifiers only help when they come from a common cultural language, or at least a language and touchstones that both sides can understand and comprehend.
The Hell of Sanctuary is, by design, quite alien from Earth, and fails to share a lot of the cultural touchstones and signifiers that the Fae have nicked from mortal society. And it hasnt been around long enough for people to recognize its own signifiers.
Anything from there is likely to be missed or worse, misunderstood.
You risk injecting unnecessary confusion in a situation where you want and need clarity.
3) No, I dont think I agree.
This isnt a coming out party or a social occasion, this is Molly engaging the Queen of Summer in a fairly highstakes negotiation.
You need clarity, and to minimize any factors that might introduce hostile misunderstanding on our part.
Molly has done this sort of meeting before, with the Blackstaff, with Lara Raith of the White Court, with Mab of Winter, with the Merlin of the White Council, with Odin and now the Archive.
At no point has she found it necessary to affirm her identity by injecting unnecessary displays into the matter.
The less ego we have had going into these things, the more successful she has been at actually achieving her goals.
1)The authority is ourself and us doing it in her presence.
Lily told us she knows that we did something for Maeve, so its not coming completely out of the blue.
And the Mothers can confirm, assuming Titania cant herself; its not like Mab's movements that night were subtle or hidden.
2)Lash implied otherwise. That was part of the background consultations we did.
The queen of another nation handing an item to your direct heir that might have effects like increased ambition is very much in the nationstate meddling category.
We dont want her thinking that way.
Dont push our nature as a nationstate executive in her face.
She already is predisposed to dislike or distrust us due to our association with Dresden, who killed her daughter.
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- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/They
Hm.
[X] Write-in: As Molly Carpenter, jeans and a T-shirt and a sword of fire on your hip, you are- not only, but above all else- human
[X] Write-in: As Molly Carpenter, jeans and a T-shirt and a sword of fire on your hip, you are- not only, but above all else- human
Let me put it this way.
If you took a Los Angeles gangbanger and dropped him in Central Africa, noone there would be able to recognize LA gang sign or colors. The same colors that distinguish the Crips and Bloods might very well mean something different in the civil war-stricken nations of the CAR and DRC.
Or, for a flowers example, red poppies have a very distinct meaning in a lot of the combatants of WW1.
But not in West Africa.
And because Sanctuary has had virtually no contact with the rest of the setting, noone knows what their signifiers are.
These kinds of things are only worthwhile if you know what message you are sending, and how your opposite number would interpret it. You really dont want confusion in a diplomatic exchange.
Especially not with a known enemy looking to take advantage where possible.
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When we get around to making splendors for ourselves we should consider this:
Elements that don't provide strong synergies the way Sacred Protection or Sovereign Elemental Sway do aren't my favorites, but the ability to buff our reputation before trying touchy social stuff would be great.
To an extent there is a grey zone to many of the laws, but the council is only interested in being heavily punitive when it comes to human stuff as opposed to taking a more abstract moral stance.
When the red court sent ghouls after the warden training camp and killed some of the trainees in front of Dresden he killed any he could get his hands on. When the raid ended he took a survivor who was no longer able to cause him harm and tortured him; doing shit like somehow lighting all the fat in the guy's body on fire.
That wasn't self defense by lethal force, it was revenge by torture. They eventually made him stop, but no one cared enough to do anything of substance about it.
Not saying he necessarily deserves death, but that was a really fucked thing to do and because his victim were only mostly human it didn't matter. The white council isn't exactly a supremacist organization per se, and many powerful members have more nuanced personal views, but it says something that only certain people have actual rights under their rules.
They seem to be trying to get better in all kinds of ways and largely aspire to be the good guys the setting needs, which they deserve credit for, but it's worth remembering who they are now when making claims about how they'll react.
[X] Yog
It's not mind magic based on the fluff, it's fate weaving bullshit.
Elements that don't provide strong synergies the way Sacred Protection or Sovereign Elemental Sway do aren't my favorites, but the ability to buff our reputation before trying touchy social stuff would be great.
I'm not condemning them for defending themselves, but the lack of nuance is noteworthy.
To an extent there is a grey zone to many of the laws, but the council is only interested in being heavily punitive when it comes to human stuff as opposed to taking a more abstract moral stance.
When the red court sent ghouls after the warden training camp and killed some of the trainees in front of Dresden he killed any he could get his hands on. When the raid ended he took a survivor who was no longer able to cause him harm and tortured him; doing shit like somehow lighting all the fat in the guy's body on fire.
That wasn't self defense by lethal force, it was revenge by torture. They eventually made him stop, but no one cared enough to do anything of substance about it.
Not saying he necessarily deserves death, but that was a really fucked thing to do and because his victim were only mostly human it didn't matter. The white council isn't exactly a supremacist organization per se, and many powerful members have more nuanced personal views, but it says something that only certain people have actual rights under their rules.
They seem to be trying to get better in all kinds of ways and largely aspire to be the good guys the setting needs, which they deserve credit for, but it's worth remembering who they are now when making claims about how they'll react.
I'm sold on the new vote.
[X] Yog
[X] As all of them at once, reflected in the eyes of beholder: jeans and a t-shirt, yes, but a shirt of finest tokatli spider silk and in a latest fashion trend of the city of fountains, a pair of emerald earrings in the shape of your mark blazing in your ears, and your sword on your belt, itself clad in an intricate floral scabbard.
-[X] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[X] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
@tenchifew @Alratan @BoredMan @thepsyborg @TonedMite @Azais @Yzarc (and if I missed anyone, sorry), please be aware that I significantly changed my vote, and if you want to vote for
[] As the Queen of Sanctuary in royal garb, the sign upon your brow bright burning
-[] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
You should copy and past the plan into your vote.
-[X] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[X] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
@tenchifew @Alratan @BoredMan @thepsyborg @TonedMite @Azais @Yzarc (and if I missed anyone, sorry), please be aware that I significantly changed my vote, and if you want to vote for
[] As the Queen of Sanctuary in royal garb, the sign upon your brow bright burning
-[] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
You should copy and past the plan into your vote.
- Location
- washington
Yeah while the laws do have actual affects on wizards it's notable that it's more nuanced than the council says. Since well their not taking chances.
NOTES
1)Is that Usum? Do you want to carry an activated demonsword into Summer?
We've just gone through multiple updates about Titania being emotional and paranoid, and you want to stroll in with a demonsword on our hip into a supposedly peaceful meeting.
Like I've said previously, you are going to send messages you dont know you're sending, or which will be misunderstood and then be surprised when people respond as they are wont.
2) You are burning Essence that we might need in the coming social engagement to no apparent purpose.
We have more Essence than we used to, yes.
But its not exactly infinite.
Point of correction:
The ghoul he set on fire was the one who was in possession of the bodies of the Trailman Twins, and might have been the one to kill them. He hadnt surrendered, and to be fair wasnt given the opportunity to surrender.
The one that was actually an issue was the two who had been captured and being held, one of whom Dresden put in a hole next to that ants nest, while sending the other one home as a message.
Any aftermath to that incident was never addressed.
- Location
- Germany
We are the Demon, not our blade.
We will give the same bad vibes whether we come in a summer dress or ancient armor, because we are the Infernal who calls for all lesser creatures of darkness to bow before her constantly.
That is not actually true.
We give the same vibes, but we dont normally have an unsheathed Aggravated weapon that in Molly's hands will permakill spirits. Its there, but it takes time to activate.
We're not brandishing it.
Odin doesnt carry Gungnir to diplomatic meetings. Mab doesnt bring her unicorn.
Wizards get away with carrying their staffs because they count as tools as well as weapons, but Ebenezar doesnt open-carry the Blackstaff to talks, and Dresden explicitly acknowledges that going to a meeting with duster and staff and blasting rod and all is the occult equivalent of open carrying an AR.
Chapter Seven
I went to Talvi Inverno's office just south of the Gold Coast in the Munstermobile and made no secret of it, parking across the street and walking openly up to the front door wearing my big black leather duster and carrying my wizard's staff in my left hand. In my world, it was the same as showing up in tactical armor and holding an assault rifle. So, when I knocked politely, I was making a couple of statements at the same time.No one came to the door in response to my first knock. I knocked again and waited. No one showed up. I knocked a third time and waited politely. Then I took a step back from the door and pointed one end of my staff at it.
That sort of thing is a deliberate statement.
Note how we've met Lily unarmed? Even Fix, the Winter Knight usually doesnt carry a visible weapon.
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- Location
- Germany
The sword is always there, a thought away.
And Titania is not so blind to miss that.
If we were talking to a human here, even a Wizard who can notice our nature with some effort, or by using the Sight, I would agree that bringing a blade to a talk is a bad show.
But these are Fey, and one of the most powerful of them, they will see the nuclear reactor in our soul much clearer and louder than any clothes we put on, by nature.
And so I suggest we look and act like they'd expect us to look and act, to make this a bargain, which any Fey Queen certainly knows to deal with, rather than start by challenging her preconceptions.
We won't make Titania our friend today, but maybe we can stop her from wondering if and how we tried to trick her.
No taken, I didn't mean for that to sound like I did. Just that the fey in general and the queens in particular have well established supernatural senses.
The point is that what we choose to present has meaning. You could equally say that even dressed like a Yama Queen a good supernatural look would still see Molly's humanity, as sort of happened with Arthur, but it clearly contextualizes things differently.
Showing up to Titania's palace dressed like we're going out for pizza and relying on the aura to cover the difference doesn't seem ideal to me.
I think the alienness of it would be helpful here. Molly is a mix of the familiar and the very strange in a way that can be off putting.
Ivy basically told us they base their social interaction on conspiracy theory cork boards, and we know how much fey love novelty. Engaged with the right way this is a way to ground that sensation in something more positive.
Putting the new and strange in a frame just familiar enough to give them a guide for interacting with it can be the difference between exotic and foreign so to speak.
Like it or not public high stakes negotiations with a major power while under the escort of a highly respected one basically is a broader introduction to the world in a lot of ways.
This is also a fairly different situation involving fairly different people.
McCoy, Lara, and Mab mostly dealt with Molly on an informal level and in greater privacy. There were more public facing elements, but those also got more care put into their presentation and the focus rested in different places. See the white court purge and how Molly was mostly in the background until she was killing people, at which point her armor of shattered idols was more than enough flavor.
In this case we're going to walk into Summer's capitol for an audience with Titania with no warning or invitation. We'll probably get it because we're under the wing of the Archive, at which point we're going to set off/be involved in some serious business. Major court figures will be killed or cured of nemesis infection, the Lady will (hopefully) start wearing an artifact that practically glows to chimeric senses, and who knows what else.
It's basically the supernatural equivalent of some barely known figure showing up to the White House press pool with a major European intelligence minister, getting escorted back by the Secretary of State to immediately see the president, followed by immediate house cleaning in the executive branch where people with real power get brought up on lethally serious charges. After which the DoD quietly installs bullshit Star Trek shields on the Gerald R . Ford Super carrier that it bought from the same individual.
As opposed to the shady back alley meetings we've mostly had in the past.
We shouldn't let ego overtake us, but there's a certain amount of theatre in navigating something like this.
Edit:
To be fair, there's a difference between having a sword with you and brandishing it.
While the vote might have it physically sheathed, manifesting it at all is arguably the same as a baseline mortal deliberately drawing attention to the gun on their belt.
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[X] As the Queen of Sanctuary in royal garb, the sign upon your brow bright burning
-[X] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[X] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
To my mind going in jeans is a pretty strong insult. It's saying that we take them casually, that they're not worth making any effort whatsoever for.
Particularly as Molly has dressed up to meet other supernatural powers.
-[X] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[X] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
To my mind going in jeans is a pretty strong insult. It's saying that we take them casually, that they're not worth making any effort whatsoever for.
Particularly as Molly has dressed up to meet other supernatural powers.
ClawClawBite
Mad Engineering!
- Location
- Seattle, WA
[X] As Molly Carpenter, jeans and a T-shirt, you are above all else human
-[x] But I'll take a glow up. A little more make up, sparkle, and some flowers and feathers will move me from everyday to ingenue.
-[x] But I'll take a glow up. A little more make up, sparkle, and some flowers and feathers will move me from everyday to ingenue.
- Location
- Germany
[X] As the Queen of Sanctuary in royal garb, the sign upon your brow bright burning
-[X] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[X] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
-[X] Assist Archive, but let her make design decisions. You are interested where this is going
-[X] Roll occult excellency to see how fashion, math, poetry and spiders are similar.
BoredMan
Maintaining the Agenda is our top priority
[X] You come Exalted, clad in armor singing of ruin and glory, your blade of fire at your side.
This would literally only be true if we were invited to a formal event, with notice to prepare.
Not for whats essentially an emergency meeting mediated/in the company of the Archive.
And no, Molly has only dressed up to meet Mab, and that was a meeting where we had three months forewarning.
Lara Raith? We wore armor because it was Halloween and we could get away with wearing it.
The Merlin? Normal clothes.
Odin? We were wearing workshop gear, suitable for crafting
Maeve and Lily? Both streetwear.
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/They
[X] Yog
A bit hesitant about the essence expenditure but it seems well-thought-out otherwise.
A bit hesitant about the essence expenditure but it seems well-thought-out otherwise.
There is a difference between a gun in a holster and a gun in your hand.
Etiquette matters. Appearance matters.
Especialy with the Fae.
The fact that Titania herself is one of the two most powerful individuals that has routine access to Creation would not make it any less rude if she was carrying a lightning bolt in her hand when we show up for an audience.
I cant really agree with this.
This was Lily and Fix, showing up for a public meeting with Dresden publicly at McAnally's at mid day during Proven Guilty:
I didn't have long to wait. A couple of minutes before noon, the Summer Knight opened the door and came in.
Fix had grown, and I mean that literally. He'd been about five foot three, maybe an inch or so higher. Now he had towered up to at least five nine. He'd been a wiry little guy with white-blond hair, and most of that remained true. The wire had thickened to lean cable, but the shock of spikes he'd worn as a hairdo had gotten traded in on a more typical cut for faerie nobles-a shoulder-length do. Fix hadn't been a good-looking guy, and the extra height and muscle and the hair did absolutely nothing to change that. What had changed was his previous manner, which had been approximately equal parts nervous and cheerful.
The Summer Knight projected confidence and strength. They shone from him like light from a star. When he opened the door, the dim shadows retreated somewhat, and a whispering breeze that smelled of pine and honeysuckle rolled through the room. The air around him did something to the light, throwing it back cleaner, more pure, more fierce than it had been before it touched him.
Fix wasn't putting on a face, like I had. This was what he had become: the Summer Knight, mortal champion of the Seelie Court, a thunderstorm in blue jeans and a green cotton shirt. His gaze went first to Mac, and he gave the barkeep a polite little bow of respect. Then he turned to me, grinned, and nodded. "Harry."
"Fix," I said. "Been a while. You've grown."
He looked down at himself and looked briefly like the flustered young man I had first met. "It sort of snuck up on me."
"Life has a way of doing that," I agreed.
"I hope you don't mind. Someone else wanted to speak to you, too."
He turned his head and said something, and a breath later the Summer Lady entered the tavern.
Lily had never been hard on the eyes. The daughter of one of the Sidhe and a mortal, she'd had the looks usually reserved for magazines and movie stars. But, like Fix, she had grown; not physically, though a somewhat juvenile eye might have made certain comparisons to the past and somehow found them even more appealing. What had changed most was the bashful uncertainty that had filled her every word and movement. The old Lily had hardly been able to take care of herself. This was the Summer Lady, youngest of the Seelie Queens, and when she came in the room, the whole place suddenly seemed more alive. The lingering taste of lemonade on my tongue became more intensely sour and sweet. I could hear every whisper of wind around every lazily spinning fan blade in the room, and all of them murmured gentle music together. She wore a simple sundress of green, starkly contrasting the silken waterfall of purest white tresses that fell to her waist.
Fix had grown, and I mean that literally. He'd been about five foot three, maybe an inch or so higher. Now he had towered up to at least five nine. He'd been a wiry little guy with white-blond hair, and most of that remained true. The wire had thickened to lean cable, but the shock of spikes he'd worn as a hairdo had gotten traded in on a more typical cut for faerie nobles-a shoulder-length do. Fix hadn't been a good-looking guy, and the extra height and muscle and the hair did absolutely nothing to change that. What had changed was his previous manner, which had been approximately equal parts nervous and cheerful.
The Summer Knight projected confidence and strength. They shone from him like light from a star. When he opened the door, the dim shadows retreated somewhat, and a whispering breeze that smelled of pine and honeysuckle rolled through the room. The air around him did something to the light, throwing it back cleaner, more pure, more fierce than it had been before it touched him.
Fix wasn't putting on a face, like I had. This was what he had become: the Summer Knight, mortal champion of the Seelie Court, a thunderstorm in blue jeans and a green cotton shirt. His gaze went first to Mac, and he gave the barkeep a polite little bow of respect. Then he turned to me, grinned, and nodded. "Harry."
"Fix," I said. "Been a while. You've grown."
He looked down at himself and looked briefly like the flustered young man I had first met. "It sort of snuck up on me."
"Life has a way of doing that," I agreed.
"I hope you don't mind. Someone else wanted to speak to you, too."
He turned his head and said something, and a breath later the Summer Lady entered the tavern.
Lily had never been hard on the eyes. The daughter of one of the Sidhe and a mortal, she'd had the looks usually reserved for magazines and movie stars. But, like Fix, she had grown; not physically, though a somewhat juvenile eye might have made certain comparisons to the past and somehow found them even more appealing. What had changed most was the bashful uncertainty that had filled her every word and movement. The old Lily had hardly been able to take care of herself. This was the Summer Lady, youngest of the Seelie Queens, and when she came in the room, the whole place suddenly seemed more alive. The lingering taste of lemonade on my tongue became more intensely sour and sweet. I could hear every whisper of wind around every lazily spinning fan blade in the room, and all of them murmured gentle music together. She wore a simple sundress of green, starkly contrasting the silken waterfall of purest white tresses that fell to her waist.
And when they called Maeve a couple minutes later, THIS was how she showed up:
I racked my brains for a few seconds more and then said, "No, you haven't."
Lily opened her eyes and looked at me, arching a perfect, silver-white brow.
"I need someone with the right information and who isn't under a compulsion not to help me. And I can only think of one person who fits the bill."
Lily's eyes widened a second after I got done speaking.
"Can you do it?" I asked her. "Right now?"
She chewed her lower lip for a second, then nodded.
"Call her," I said.
Fix looked back and forth between us. "I don't understand. What are you doing?"
"Something stupid, probably," I said. "But this is too big. I need more information."
Lily closed her eyes and folded her hands on her lap, her expression relaxing into one of deep concentration. I could feel the subtle stir of energy around her.
My stomach rumbled. I asked Mac to whip me up a steak sandwich and settled down to wait.
It didn't take long. My sandwich wasn't halfway done when Mouse let out a sudden, rumbling growl of warning, and the temperature in the bar dropped about ten degrees. The whirling ceiling fans let out mechanical moans of protest and spun faster. Then the door opened and let in sunlight made wan by a patch of dreary grey clouds. The light cast a slender black silhouette.
Fix's eyes narrowed. His hands slid casually out of sight beneath the table, and he said, "Oh. Her"
The young woman who entered the bar could have been Lily's sister. She had the same exotic beauty, the same canted, feline eyes, the same pale, flawless skin. But this one's hair was worn in long, ragged strands of varying lengths, like a Raggedy Ann doll, each one dyed a slightly different color from frozen seas-pale blues and greens, as though each had borrowed its color from a different glacier. Her eyes were a cold, brilliant shade of green, almost entirely darkened by pupils dilated as though with drugs or arousal. A slender silver hoop gleamed at one side of her nose, and a collar of black leather studded with silver snowflakes encircled the graceful line of her slender throat. She wore sandals and cut-off blue jean shorts-very cut-off, and very tight. A tight, white T-shirt strained across her chest, and read, in pale blue letters stretched into intriguing curves, "YOUR BOYFRIEND WANTS ME."
She prowled across the room to us, all hips and lips and fascinating eyes, looking far too young to move with such wanton sensuality. I knew better. She could have been a century old. She chose to look the way she did because of what she was: the Winter Lady, youngest Queen of the Un-seelie Court, Mab's understudy in wickedness and power. When she walked by the flowers that had bloomed in Lily's presence, they froze over, withered, and died. She gave them no more notice than Lily had.
"Harry Dresden," she said, her voice low, lulling, and sweet.
And I said, "Hello, Maeve."
Lily opened her eyes and looked at me, arching a perfect, silver-white brow.
"I need someone with the right information and who isn't under a compulsion not to help me. And I can only think of one person who fits the bill."
Lily's eyes widened a second after I got done speaking.
"Can you do it?" I asked her. "Right now?"
She chewed her lower lip for a second, then nodded.
"Call her," I said.
Fix looked back and forth between us. "I don't understand. What are you doing?"
"Something stupid, probably," I said. "But this is too big. I need more information."
Lily closed her eyes and folded her hands on her lap, her expression relaxing into one of deep concentration. I could feel the subtle stir of energy around her.
My stomach rumbled. I asked Mac to whip me up a steak sandwich and settled down to wait.
It didn't take long. My sandwich wasn't halfway done when Mouse let out a sudden, rumbling growl of warning, and the temperature in the bar dropped about ten degrees. The whirling ceiling fans let out mechanical moans of protest and spun faster. Then the door opened and let in sunlight made wan by a patch of dreary grey clouds. The light cast a slender black silhouette.
Fix's eyes narrowed. His hands slid casually out of sight beneath the table, and he said, "Oh. Her"
The young woman who entered the bar could have been Lily's sister. She had the same exotic beauty, the same canted, feline eyes, the same pale, flawless skin. But this one's hair was worn in long, ragged strands of varying lengths, like a Raggedy Ann doll, each one dyed a slightly different color from frozen seas-pale blues and greens, as though each had borrowed its color from a different glacier. Her eyes were a cold, brilliant shade of green, almost entirely darkened by pupils dilated as though with drugs or arousal. A slender silver hoop gleamed at one side of her nose, and a collar of black leather studded with silver snowflakes encircled the graceful line of her slender throat. She wore sandals and cut-off blue jean shorts-very cut-off, and very tight. A tight, white T-shirt strained across her chest, and read, in pale blue letters stretched into intriguing curves, "YOUR BOYFRIEND WANTS ME."
She prowled across the room to us, all hips and lips and fascinating eyes, looking far too young to move with such wanton sensuality. I knew better. She could have been a century old. She chose to look the way she did because of what she was: the Winter Lady, youngest Queen of the Un-seelie Court, Mab's understudy in wickedness and power. When she walked by the flowers that had bloomed in Lily's presence, they froze over, withered, and died. She gave them no more notice than Lily had.
"Harry Dresden," she said, her voice low, lulling, and sweet.
And I said, "Hello, Maeve."
Short of actually scheduled formal social events, the high Sidhe appear to be less bothered about clothes during meetings than mortals are.
And even there in those social events, they have their idiosyncrasies.
Remember how the Redcap was wearing a red Cincinatti ballcap at Mab's official reception for Dresden in Cold Days?
I happen to be of the persuasion that introducing randomness into a high-stakes negotiation is distinctly contra-indicated.
Especially when the matters involved are Nemesis infiltration and Summer Court internal balance.
Under more normal social circumstances, I would have no problem letting Molly play games.
This isnt one of them.
It really isnt.
The events of this meeting are not going to be public unless something goes very wrong.
Just the fact that we're talking Nemesis infiltration means that the Archive is not going to even want to be noticed showing up in the first place, to avoid giving Nemesis advance warning or data for correlation in the future.
We're looking at a small, closed session hearing.
Its going to be less public than Molly walking into Maeve's Halloween celebration in Mab's wake and then terrifying everyone there so hard that Mab had to tell them to leave multiple times before they do so.
And the rumor mill still doesnt know what to make of that.
Assuming we're successful, the repercussions will be far-reaching and public.
But their direct linkage to Molly? Are going to be much less so, unless both Titania and Molly want it to be.
And we're not going to be introduced or schmooze with the Summer Court here either.
To adapt your White House analogy?
I think the best I can come up with is that we're showing up in a helicopter with a major European intelligence figure and slipping in a side door, not walking up to the front entrance and through the press pool.
And all these attempts at pomp actively sabotage our attempts to avoid giving Nemesis and its agents warning.
At least, thats my impression.
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