Where Lilies Bloom
27th of December 2006 A.D.
4 Essence Regained at Dawn -> Now at 15/15
Willpower restored from resting
After getting the address from a mildly grumbling Harry you still spend a good half hour looking and asking until you find
Zorya's Zebas, hidden in plain sight like the reference in the name, down a narrow alley, into a seemingly accidental courtyard from which all buildings save one turn their eyes. Golden light spills out defiantly from under frosted glass as a bright fire escape snakes its way along the side of the building up... and then just
stops mid air as though the builder had gotten bored of his work, or more likely continuing Elsewhere. Meanwhile the door into the shop itself is heavy oak with gilded —nope, that's actually solid gold, talk about conspicuous consumption— doorknob. A tiny silver bell rings as you enter. The warm air buffets you with countless scents mingling into an exotic cocktail, wholly itself beyond description. Vines snake all along the wall festooned with crimson flowers like Christmas in July.
As you scoot by, extra careful not to brush against any of the plants and wilt them you notice there's actually an old-time cash register on the counter, the kind one might see in an old Western. Behind said counter stands a familiar young woman, platinum hair framing a delicate face, the kind of perfect composition that usually takes a professional photographer to manage.
"Merry met," her voice is grave, her gaze is guarded.
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 14/15 (Empathy Excellency)
Not very
well guarded mind, you can read the tenseness in her shoulders clear as day, not to mention the suspicion that at least part of the reason she is behind that counter is so you can't see her leg tapping nervously. Alas for her you can hear it just fine. That the assistant carefully watering the orchids over on the left is a sidhe was never in doubt, but the way he had been instructed to stand with his back to you, hands in full view can't be anything but a
deliberate show of nonchalance.
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 13/15 (Etiquette Excellency)
"Merry Christmas to you too!" you decide to just go with disarming good cheer, whatever else she may be Lilly unlike Meave is young, a child of the twenty first century, used to seeing spontaneity as honesty which hopefully aligns with her new faerie nature. "I bring gifts for Happy Hour..." So saying you motion with the brandy towards her. "When
is Happy Hour anyway?"
"Don't know. Do you think we should ask the local speakeasy?" the Summer Lady shoots back, seeming to surprise even herself.
"Better not, they might think we're going to squeal on 'em to the coppers," you answer in the absolute
worst mob accent you can manage.
"Damn, didn't think you would be funny, what with all the..." Lilly motions to your forehead where the mark rests, unseen by mortal eyes, though perhaps not to those of the fey.
You arch an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Damn, OK, one moment while I get my game face back." She rubs her hands as though preparing for to haul something heavy as the assistant, still unnamed, looks like he is about to do something unpleasant to the poor flower.
"I am obligated to point out that the Summer Court does not partake in feasts which honor the White God nor his Son," the Lady says, her voice appropriately stuffy, like someone reciting company policy.
"Yule then," you say, having prepared for something like this. "The longest night is now behind us and days are growing to summer-to-be."
"Ooh, that's new," she says, taking the bottle and motioning for the other fey to take down the orchid and hand it to you. It is a pretty thing crimson and gold, living fire blooming amid the waxy green leaves.
"Now that we have that out of the way," the Summer Lady continues, "is there something you wanted to talk about? I know you helped Maeve and she... sent you to Vegas. Darn that sounds strange, like she is encouraging you to gamble or something. I mean I guess in a way she
is since you are going up against the Dragon and his spooky master, but that's not... I'm rambling aren't I?"
"Little bit," you admit, the smile taking any sting out of the word. "It's a good ramble though, like a brook bubbling along the side of the road."
Lilly laughs, relieved, amused and other feelings for which there are no names in the tongues of men. "Well alright then, 'entertaining' and 'entrancing' at least have the first three letters in common."
"Just as long as now bearded trees stride up for a chat, someone might notice," your voice drops to a theatrical whisper. As unlike as this is to conversing with Maeve much less Mab you can still feel an edge of faerie glamor to it, that half forgotten song on dreaming's edge. It's just that this one is more the pop song you hear on the radio one lazy afternoon, the earworm you can't shake that puts a spring in your step.
"You would be surprised at how much people miss when it suits them," she sighs and shakes her head.
Something she doesn't want to talk about, or something she can't? you wonder, but this time you can't read it off her face. Listening with more than ears and looking with more than your eyes you can easily tell whatever this is weighs on her. There's more than sorrow there, there's anger and resentment, but she can't allow herself to acknowledge them.
Lost 1 Willpower -> Now at 8/9 (ATB)
What do you do?
[] Try to figure out what's making Lilly unhappy without her telling you outright
-[] Write in stunt
[] This went well so far, go before it turns sour
[] Write in
OOC: Rolls were mostly good, now the question is do you want to push this? 
