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       #Post#: 1051--------------------------------------------------
       Storm Feathers Falling: Licking Wounds (Corine & Percy)
       By: MAT Date: March 19, 2025, 9:15 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-02-25 03:55:22 | 12917
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       It had taken almost an entire day for Percy to regenerate the
       injuries he’d sustained fighting the Tzitzimitlraja. It had
       taken another several hours to dig himself out from the cave-in;
       a slow, careful process that kept him constantly on-guard and
       alert for the monster’s return. Then two hours to hike back to
       his truck. For about an hour he’d sat in the cab of his vehicle,
       slumped against the wheel, breathing through the dull ache of
       his body knitting itself back together. Finally, he turned the
       engine and headed back into the city.
       He felt worn, tired, and defeated. The pain had faded, but the
       exhaustion remained. He felt wrung out, stretched thin, the
       weight of his limbs heavier than it should be. As he approached
       Boulder Highway, a new sensation cut through the haze of
       fatigue: hunger. Flipping the blinker, he turned left, and soon
       enough he found himself parked in front of a restaurant with a
       red neon sign outlining a buffalo.
       **Ted’s Montana Grill.**
       The interior smelled of charred meat and butter, a warmth that
       wrapped around him as he stepped inside. The interior was pretty
       standard ‘rustic americana’ decor - dark wooden booths, walls
       lined with vintage rodeo posters, all accented by the giant
       bison head mounted over the exit. He stared at it for a moment,
       and could have sworn that its eyes turned to look at him. Then
       it winked. He was sure of it.
       Percy looked rough. His clothes were smudged with brick-colored
       dirt, torn at the sleeves, and flecked with dried blood - his or
       the monster’s, he wasn’t sure. His hands were clean, but his
       knuckles still bore faint abrasions. He knew how he must look:
       someone fresh from a fight, or worse. But there was something
       about the way he carried himself - something in his posture, in
       the sharpness of his gaze - that kept him from looking anything
       but dignified. Instead of being mistaken for a criminal, he
       looked campestral, like a man who belonged to the wilderness,
       someone stepping into civilization only briefly before
       disappearing again. Like someone from Montana.
       The hostess hesitated for half a second before schooling her
       expression into practiced politeness. “Right this way.”
       She gave him a booth facing the door. Smart girl. Or maybe just
       coincidence. Either way, he appreciated it.
       Percy washed up in the restroom, the water running red at first,
       then pink, then clear. When he returned to his seat, a server
       had left a menu on the table. He picked it up, scanning the
       offerings.
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-02-27 00:23:42 | 12953
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder | Approved
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       The drive down the mountains had been long, but not unpleasant.
       The weather nice enough to roll the Jeep windows down, play the
       music loud. She didn't hurry the trip too much. She stopped in
       roadside towns and trie dout local places to eat. She went
       sightseeing. She bought souvenirs.
       In the morning, she'd go to the leasing office to pick up the
       keys for the furnished apartment that would be her home base for
       the next six months,possibly longer. For tonight, though, she
       checked into the first motel with a vacancy sign. She grabbed a
       shower, washed the road off. Then, she looked at local
       restarants. Something easy, something where she wouldn't have to
       drive too far.
       **Ted's Montana Grill.**
       The décor inside baffled and amused her in turns. A
       commercialized caraciture of the place she'd spent her teenaged
       years. Someone who had only dreamed of *Montana* recreating out
       of the haze on waking.
       To most of the eyes in the restaurant, she was only really
       notable for her height. To a particular eye, however, she was
       probably unmistakable. Towering above the crowd. Slate grey from
       the ends of her horns to her toes, as though hair and all, she'd
       been hewn from singular block of granite.
       Something caught her eye, or rather, the corner of it as she
       waited for the hostess. She turned her attention off the big
       taxidermy bison head towards the corner near the restroom. She
       leaned one way, then the other. She put her hands behind her
       back so she could lean a little further, trying to take a better
       look.
       It was about this time that the hostess came back.
       "Oh! Sorry, I didn't realize you were meeting someone. I'll go
       ahead and seat you." The hostess smiled, grabbing a menu and
       turning  to head off.
       "Wait. No, I'm - " Corine opened her mouth to protest,
       stretching one hand after, to no avail. Then she sighed. Nothing
       to do but walk after to try and explain.
       Maybe this would be an easy misunderstanding to sort out.
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-01 00:18:48 | 13137
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       The waitress returned more quickly than he thought; he wasn’t
       even ready to order yet. But then he saw the tall woman behind
       her; the blue-skinned, horned Troll.
       “Dame Ashgrave.”
       The words tumbled out of his mouth, and for a few moments, it
       was all he said. He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t
       known for having a silver tongue, or for being politically
       adroit.  Back in Whitecliff he’d been estranged from the
       freehold leadership and most of the nobility. Clearly, he was
       completely surprised to see her, perhaps not even having known
       that she was still alive.
       His eyes flicked to the waitress, who seemed to have a puzzled
       expression on her face. Her attention seemed focused on him, as
       if suddenly struck by some strange, compelling sentiment. Still,
       she set Corine’s menu on the table and flashed a practiced,
       plastic smile.  “I’ll give you two a few minutes to chat and
       come back.”
       Reaching up, Percy ran a hand through his hair to smooth it out
       a little. He hadn’t really expected to encounter any kithain
       here. He wasn’t particularly vain, but he also still looked like
       he’d gone headfirst through a windshield.
       “Please. Join me,” he said calmly, opening his other hand to
       gesture at the open space across the booth.
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-04 02:04:24 | 13270
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder | Approved
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       "..Sir Percival."
       In kind, it's all she says at first. She looks down at him,
       unblinking, the granite of her expression not shifting too much.
       Maybe just the barest hint of a frown.
       It had been some time, hadn't it. She didn't recall the sight of
       him among the ranks of the usurpers, at least, but neither did
       she recall him aiding Whitecliff when it fell. Her memory wasn't
       perfect, of course. But she could probably have counted on one
       powerful hand the times she'd even seem him in Court. The
       freedom of a pariah was the freedom to keep to the outdoors.
       At her side, that hand clenched, then released. Then, it lifted
       to the strap of her purse. She slid into the booth to join him.
       This put her back to the door, reliant on his eyes to see the
       front. But gave her a view into the kitchen and the people
       coming and going from there.
       "It has been some time, hasn't it." She managed to voice the
       thought in her head as she plucked the menu up.
       "Have you been well?" She asks. He looks like ****, actually, as
       much as any Sidhe can look like it. She asks anyways, out of
       politeness and a curiosity she broaches but carefully.
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-04 03:46:15 | 13276
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       /roll 7d10<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">7d10: 4,
       3, 6, 6, 5, 5, 6 = <b>35</b><br/></div>
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-04 04:27:28 | 13277
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “Yes.”
       Percy agreed in a perfunctory fashion that it had, indeed, been
       some time. The last time he remembered seeing her was a training
       session with the castle guard before the fall of the freehold.
       As he recalled, his swordplay was not quite up to par with hers,
       but he often tutored those wishing to learn the bow.
       Her second question was more difficult to answer. He didn’t even
       say anything at first because something else was distracting
       him. It was like the ticking of a clock, but not quite a clock.
       Maybe more like a metronome. It was so loud, and so familiar.
       And it was coming from Corine. A measure. A march. Order.
       It looked like he was lost in thought. Somewhere else. Then he
       realized he’d just been calmly staring, and blinked a few times,
       drawing in a deep breath.
       “Well enough.” It was the truth for someone who spoke either
       nothing, or nothing but. “I…left Montana after everything that
       happened. I couldn’t face the shame.”  He hadn’t really meant to
       say that last part, but just shrugged. “I traveled for a while,
       but found a job here, so I stayed.”
       He frowned. “What a weird coincidence finding you here. But
       maybe not.”
       Percy tilted his head slightly. Suddenly he recalled the
       dream-vision. The one with the bighorn sheep whose coat was the
       color of blue shale. Unsettling how much she reminded him of
       that sheep; the one who he’d chased into the desert. What did it
       mean?
       “What are you doing in town?”
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-05 03:34:44 | 13313
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder | Approved
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       The silence stretched while she looked the menu over, scanning
       first the appetizers list. Then, after looking up to make sure
       Percival was still with her, she flipped over to peruse the
       cocktails.
       Seemed like she could use one all of a sudden.
       She was smiling when he came back to earth. The absent
       expression of someone who had been patiently waiting on him to
       say something. The expression faded like a switched-off filament
       when he did go on, though. Replaced by something else. An
       understanding that came close to a concern of a kind.
       "We all have our shame to bear." She said it simply. Shying not
       from the words that came from the heart, as she'd been raised.
       It wasn't quite an *it's alright*, but *I understand*. Or  *I've
       been there*.
       "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She went
       on, tapping one slate-grey finger to the menu as she scanned it
       again. Content enough to not immediately start delving into it;
       the pain and betrayal, the shame and bitter anger she felt, even
       now.
       "Maybe so, though." She didn't deny it. Maybe she wasn't as
       tuned into the ebbs and pulls of *Dán*, but she believed in it
       as much as she believed in anything the Dreaming wrought. Here
       they were, the two of them sitting in a place that looked like
       someone who'd only dreamed about Montana, that place they'd both
       left under bad circumstances.
       "I have a job interview with a climbing gym." She explained. "I
       want to get up Red Rock, at least. Good climbing in the area?"
       She asked him as someone who'd been here longer than her.
       Someone who she knew liked to spend some time outside.
       "What are you doing for work?"  She held the remark about
       getting beat up for a living; Trolls were not generally known
       for brevity, and she knew the limits of her own tongue.
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-05 08:22:26 | 13321
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “We may as well.” Talk about it. “Clear the air.” He swallowed,
       then spoke. “I didn’t help them. I wasn’t there when it
       happened. I…”
       He trailed off suddenly, and a moment later it became clear why.
       The waitress had returned.
       “Are you ready to order?”
       Percy flicked his gaze over to Corine.  “I am. New York Strip.
       Medium-rare. Guinness Draught. And a diet soda.”
       When the waitress went to place their orders, he picked up where
       he’d left off. “I was on my way to the freehold. A pooka I knew
       from Bighorn Pass stopped me. Said there was another monster
       rampaging through the hills. That they needed help.” Percival
       let out a breath of air through his nostrils. “Something seemed
       off, but I just chalked it up to panic. And it was all a ruse.
       The Pooka wasn’t even the person I knew. Just someone wearing
       his face. A Sluagh using magic. Metamorphosis. Once she’d led me
       far enough away she dropped the act and tried to kill me. Stuck
       me with a dagger right between the ribs,” he said, pressing his
       left thumb into his left side. “She had a glass jaw, though.
       Couldn’t take a punch.”
       He frowned. “I managed to get back to Whitecliff but it was too
       late. And I…” Percy trailed off again. It was obvious what he’d
       done; he’d ran. “I guess that’s that.”
       Percy nodded when she talked about climbing. “There are lots of
       options depending on your skill and interest. Some are better at
       different times of the year, but I haven’t really done a lot of
       climbing here yet. Mount Potosi to the southwest of the city has
       a lot of routes. Most of ‘em are tough but there’s some easier
       ones too. North of that is Mount Charleston. There’s also a
       place right on the northwest edge of the city called the Gun
       Club. I did it once. Not difficult, but sometimes that can be
       fun.”
       When she asked what he was doing for work, he paused, looking
       hesitant to answer. He was very protective of the kids that he
       taught. Then he shrugged. “I’m an athletics director at a middle
       school. I spend my days making twelve- and thirteen-year-olds
       miserable. At least, that’s what they might tell you,” he said,
       snorting softly.
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-06 03:11:46 | 13384
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder | Approved
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       /roll 5d10<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">5d10: 7,
       4, 3, 4, 8 = <b>26</b><br/></div>
       ----
       #Post#: 1052--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Storm Feathers Falling: Licking Wounds
       By: MAT Date: March 19, 2025, 9:15 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-07 01:22:25 | 13420
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder | Approved
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       There was no sense in saying anything like *I know* to that. It
       wasn't nice, for one, and rubbing it in wasn't going to do
       anybody any good. She forced herself to put aside, too, the
       thought that their shared shame might find some common purpose.
       Forced that burning impulse back and made herself listen and be
       patient.
       They'd only *just* reencountered each other, after all.
       "Uhh, yeah. Sorry. Could I have the Blue Creek burger with
       bison, please? Onion rings instead of fries, and a Huckleberry
       Margarita. Oh, and a glass of water, thanks."  The waitress'
       rearrival was the perfect opportunity to pause and collect
       herself.She gave the woman a polite smile as she passed the menu
       back over, then settled back in.
       Her expression hardened a little at select points of his
       telling. The idea of someone using his trusting and helpful
       nature to isolate and betray him most of all. She picked at the
       paper ring holding her napkin and silverware in place until it
       came undone. Unfolded the cloth while he finished. Spread it on
       her lap.
       "I feel like I should have seen it coming." She said it first,
       when he fell silent, when it was her turn. "You know? Like there
       had to have been signs in court, or outside of it. Some kind of
       sign there was going to be trouble. I spent awhile wondering if
       there was anything we could have done to prevent it. Smoothed it
       over so nobody had to bleed."  Her voice goes a little distant.
       Fingers hooking into the chain hung around her neck, worrying
       the links with her thumb. Whatever hangs on the end of it feels
       heavy, always. Something she'd never asked for and didn't want,
       but held onto as a matter of honor. Honor and no small amount of
       spite.
       "In the end, the only thing I could do was just keep them from
       getting what I could." She waits for the server to come and go
       with their drinks. Then, she curls the chain up into her
       fingers, closing them around the ring. And uncurls them so she
       can show it to him - the gold baronial signet of Whitecliff,
       inlaid with the green gryphon of House Gwydion in the enamel
       blazon of Cerise's personal arms.
       Then, she curls up her fingers and shoves it hastily back into
       her shirt. She reaches for her margarita.
       "Aww." His mention of kids and teaching brings that little smile
       back to her face. "Do you like it? Kids that age can be little
       shits. Did one of them get you like that? Or was it the
       climbing."
       She finally winds her way back to his disheveled appearance,
       more curious than anything. Wherever he'd just dragged himself
       from sure gave him a beating.
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-07 04:26:11 | 13430
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       /roll 5d10<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">5d10: 4,
       8, 3, 4, 5 = <b>24</b><br/></div>
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-07 05:19:54 | 13434
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “Between the Baroness and her pet Eiluned sorcerer, there was no
       love lost for a Dark Star. They made sure I knew that I wasn’t
       really welcome beyond…the obligations owed.”
       He sighed. Being a social pariah had never crushed him the way
       it might another Sidhe. He didn’t really care about being liked,
       he cared about doing right by people. Where he lacked in support
       from the nobility, though, he had earned some friendship and
       respect of the local commoners. “It’s not really an excuse. But
       it put me further away than I would have been otherwise.
       Probably.”
       When Corine showed the ring to him, Percy heard the metronome
       ticking again. This time, however, it thundered in his ears like
       a pounding storm. The sound rattled his teeth and caused his
       eyes to twitch. He grunted slightly and raised one hand to cover
       his left ear, and had to resist the urge to knock her
       outstretched hand away. Thankfully, she chose that moment to
       return the object to its hiding spot.
       Percival released a heavy breath, as if he’d been holding it,
       and his heart rate slowed. He knew that Cerise had been wearing
       the ring when she’d died, even though he hadn’t been there. Some
       part of her had imprinted on the treasure in a way that he could
       hear and feel; psychic impressions and feelings. Even the ring
       wanted to be away from him, he thought, as silly as that would
       have been to say.
       He decided not to. Instead, he took a long drink from the tall,
       dark glass of stout.
       When she said kids that age could be ‘little shits’, he let out
       an unexpected huff of amusement. “Oh yeah. Very rebellious
       sometimes. Testing boundaries because they want to spread their
       wings and fly. They’re starting to feel like they need to be
       adults, even though they’re still just kids. They crave
       confidence, so I try to help them earn it.” She’d asked if he
       liked it, but all he answered was, “it’s where I belong.”
       He paused again, and his gaze seemed to wander again, despite
       the fact he was looking right at her. “Get me like…this.”
       Lifting up the fabric of his shirt, he shook his head. “No.” It
       was an honest answer, but he seemed to very obviously think
       about whether or not he wanted to elaborate. Rubbing the side of
       his face, he eventually continued. “A few days ago I was out on
       the soccer field and a woman showed up. Lurking. At first I
       thought she might be trouble. I went over to talk to her and she
       was kinain. The daughter of a Pooka woman who had gone missing.
       The daughter, Nati, said that her mother Elena had run afoul of
       some other woman Elena called ‘Boleros’.”
       Leaning back in his seat, he went on. “My father is Irish, and I
       called him to ask if he’d ever heard that word before. He said
       it could be old Celtic, and the name of a mythic character.
       Balor Balcbéimnech.” The implication was obvious, and he
       shrugged.
       “Anyhow, this ‘Boleros’ sorceress holds sway over a terrible
       creature called the Tzitzimitlraja. Elena was apparently
       terrified of it, and Nati thinks it might have kidnapped or
       killed her mother. I don’t think Elena is dead. But yesterday I
       tracked the Tzitzimitlraja to the Valley of Fire. The hunt
       didn’t go well. When I engaged the creature it beat the tar out
       of me. My…arrogance nearly got me killed.”
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-10 02:56:24 | 13524
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       /roll 5d10<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">5d10: 5,
       9, 1, 6, 2 = <b>23</b><br/></div>
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-11 00:32:21 | 13571
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       "That's so strange to me." Her grasp on all the intricacies of
       the way sidhe could hate and scheme against each other wasn't as
       solid as one of their number, born to that world and life. It
       didn't quite add up why somoene would turn away someone
       obviously competent like that. It sat like a knot in her mind,
       something she couldn't quite unpick.
       It was hard to tell, but she swore she could see the shadow fall
       across his expression when she brought the ring out. Honestly,
       she hadn't known what to expect, revealing it. She didn't like
       to unless she needed to, but it seemed like the thing to do
       while they were clearing the air.
       Either way, once she'd made her point, she was content enough to
       let it go. The ring hung heavy like a weight around her neck.
       Something she'd never aspired to and never asked for, but shone
       as brilliant between her fingers as it'd ever had adorning the
       Baroness'.
       She picked up her margarita to take an experimental sip, then
       another one. Better to think of more pleasant things, or at
       least less unpleasant things.
       Or, well. This story didn't sound so pleasant at all. Her
       eyebrows drew together as she listens, lifting her chin just
       slightly at the name drop. *Balor Balcbéimnech*. She of course
       could pick that up just fine.
       "Even here, they know to come for you." Something about that
       seemed to touch her, a little, amidst the telling. She could
       feel for the child of one of the local Kithain, be relieved they
       could know somewhere to go for aid.Knowing nothing else about
       the land, she could appreciate that much.
       "Do you need backup?" She asked, offering it out freely and
       without reservation. "I should be in the area for a little
       while. I've still got all my gear."
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-13 03:07:08 | 13631
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “Yeah.” He didn’t expect her to really understand the ways Sidhe
       regarded each other. He hardly understood it himself beyond kind
       of an innate acceptance of it. He had no memories of a previous
       life. No real leverage, no special wealth, no titles, no land.
       Social warriors could be as lethal as physical ones.
       “Their fear and distrust is tied up in a different time and
       place.” That was all he could really say. The Baroness had made
       many comments during the time he spent at Whitecliff, but all
       the sentiments sort of gathered together behind that one general
       idea.
       “Even here,” he agreed, nodding slowly. “It’s the life.” Hunting
       monsters, helping people - it was just the calling of the
       Knights of the Good Hand. “I was surprised, but only a little.”
       How did Nati know to come to him? “Pooka like to talk. Stories
       spread. I carry one of their weapons, too.”  Did it call out to
       its brethren? Maybe even their treasures talked.
       Percival’s face twisted a little when Corine asked if he needed
       backup. He had to resist the urge to defiantly say no because he
       was compelled to speak no lies. “Possibly.” True. “Probably.”
       More true. “I mean, yes,” he admitted.
       “I shot it twice in the neck. My arrows bounced off it. It had a
       sonic scream. Control over gale-force wind. I barely escaped
       into a small cave and it shook the rockface so hard it nearly
       buried me alive. I did hurt it. In the face, with a piece of
       stone.”
       He sighed. He was loath to admit it, but, “what I need most is
       to learn more about it. Every beast has a weak spot. I don’t
       think that I can survive another bout to try and find this
       one’s, though,” he said with a small twinkle in his eye and the
       upturn of his mouth. “*Shoot it in the face* is all I’ve got so
       far, and that’s not really much.”
       That tactic worked on a lot of creatures.
       “If you would lend your arm I would owe you a debt.”
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-13 15:47:14 | 13647
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       "Yeah, yeah.I get it, but between you and me, and..." She shut
       up when the waitress came back with a smile and
       "... that really good looking steak of yours." She went on,
       looking down at her burger and onion rings with similar
       approval. "I think maybe there's some things from the past that
       could stand to stay there." She reached out to snag an onion
       ring immediately, dunking it into the little metal container of
       sauce.
       "Not everything. But maybe there's just a point where you should
       sit down and ask yourself what's worth carrying forward, and
       maybe what's better to try and let go."
       She took a moment to listen again, chewing the onion ring.
       Crispy and perfect.
       "Do you, really? I didn't think I knew that." That remark about
       'pooka weapons' sounded like it had a good story behind it. One
       that, by the interested look on her face.
       "You'd said the rock hurt it worse than your arrows did?" She
       asked to make sure she'd heard that correctly. "Maybe we can
       meet up to do some scouting around. See if we can learn anything
       else about its habits. " This was his show, and she wasn't here
       to steal it, but the remark stuck out in her head like another
       tangled knot. Something to file away alongside the beast's
       painful vocalizations and ability to control the weather.
       "Of course. I'm sure we can figure out how to help each other."
       There was a part of her that wanted to forego the debt. Tell him
       something like how doing her duty to protect Kithain from things
       like that was a pleasure. Which was true, but duty, as she'd
       painfully learned after what had gone down at Whitecliff, wasn't
       a straight line.
       It curved and twisted like a river, picking up silt and sediment
       from wherever it went.
       "Maybe you can answer a question for me?" She asked as she was
       picking up her knife to cut the burger in half. "IF you hadn't
       ran into me, and I hadn't offered, would there have been....mm.
       Someone or somewhere else you would have gone? One of the
       freeholds, maybe?"
       She didn't have half the talent for guile it took to make that
       question sound snakeish, even if there were two intentions
       behind it. A little help orienting the landscape of their local
       society - whatever a loner like him could do -  felt like a good
       trade.
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-13 19:03:33 | 13650
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “Are you talking about me or them?” he asked, squinting.
       “I can’t undo other people’s resentments or prejudices. And I
       get it from both ends,” he added with a rueful smile. To many of
       the nobility the Beaumayn were traitors and suspect; to many of
       the commoners any Sidhe was an enemy. “The only way I can change
       hearts and minds is to be competent,” he said, taking a bite of
       his food. “I leave the politicking and scheming to others.”
       He almost reached into his satchel to grab the weapon, eager to
       show it off, but stopped himself and looked at her, as if to
       silently acknowledge this wasn’t really the place. I wouldn’t
       work here, anyways. “It was a gift from a family of Pooka I
       helped up in Bighorn Pass,” he said with obvious pride. “It
       shapeshifts back and forth from a bow into a…well, some might
       say shillelagh. I tend to think of it as an escrema stick.”
       For a moment, he thought that something important was escaping
       his attention. Some flickering fragment of memory. Something he
       should have noticed. Then the moment passed.
       “All I know is that I picked up a rock and hurled it at her like
       a knife. It hit her in the face somewhere. The cheek, maybe. For
       like, a second, I thought I saw drawn blood. But you gotta
       remember I was kind of…” Panicking.  *Not true.*  Not quite. “It
       was really hectic. I had crawled into a little cave not much
       larger than a - I don’t know - rowboat and she was trying to
       reach through to claw at me. When I hit her with the rock she
       freaked out and caved in the opening and nearly brought the
       whole side of the canyon wall down on me.”
       When she asked what he would have done or where he would have
       gone had he not run into her, Percy had to think about it.  “I’m
       not sure,” he finally answered. “I literally unburied myself
       earlier today, so I hadn’t really gotten time to think about the
       future.
       “I only know of one local freehold. I haven’t presented myself
       yet.” After what happened with his last association, it was
       maybe understandable why he kept to the fringes. There was a
       second reason, though. “Another Baron. Another *Gwydion*.” He
       raised an eyebrow to silently emphasize that bit. “Jean
       Le’Chance. The commoners call him Lucky Jack.”
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-13 23:52:58 | 13656
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       "Them." She was quick to clarify that it wasn't him. At least,
       that hadn't been where that had been pointed. As much as the
       past came to her at times, it was far away at the same time.
       "Well, it sounds like you do a pretty good job, there." She went
       on with another smile. Another sip of margarita. She tried the
       burger, also seemed to find it delicious. Ate with a real
       relish; good food good company.
       "Aw, that's so cool. What an honor, too. A familiay heirloom."
       Another little piece of gossip that never made it to the
       accolades of Baroness Cerise's court.  Notable. Something to
       remember.
       "Her? It's a she?" She asked to clarify his shift in the way he
       talked about the beast. "It might have a nest somewhere, you
       think? Hopefully it doesn't have any young." She laughed
       quietly, shaking her head as if to banish the thought. "Guess
       we'll find out more when we get back out there. How's your
       steak?"
       She dunked another onion ring while she listened, took in the
       knowledge of what he knew of the land. She didn't ask for
       directions to the Freehold, because when the time came she
       wouldn't likely need it. She didn't take the compass sitting in
       th ebottom of her purse out to show him, either. Not the place.
       "Got it. I'll want to make my way there before too long. Meet
       Baron Lucky, you know, all the formalities." She said it like a
       given; to her, it was.
       "You can come with me if you want." She offered readily. "Or, if
       you don't, I could keep an eye on things at court for both of
       us."
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-14 20:31:59 | 13689
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “Maybe someday I’ll understand.” It didn’t feel likely right at
       that moment, but anything was possible.  “Anyhow. Like you said,
       can’t carry everything forward.”
       He smiled at the praise for the weapon and the situation that
       had earned it. It was one of his prized possessions - one of his
       few possessions at all. “It makes me feel connected. To others.”
       To the so-called commoner kits that might have very good reason
       to distrust him.
       When Corine asked him to clarify the Tzitzimitlraja's gender,
       his cheeks turned pink and he hesitated. “Well, yeah. She…it…she
       hmm. You know. Had lady….parts.” His forehead creased with
       uncertainty, but then he laughed. “She didn’t give me her
       pronouns. She was busy murdering me.”
       Percy nodded. “I’ll go with you. I ought to. If nothing less
       than to offer my services. I…like to know what’s going on in the
       territory, too.”
       Squinting, he paused mid-bite and looked at her. “Visiting the
       freehold, applying for a job…you’re…planning to stay, then?”
       ----
       #Post#: 1053--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Storm Feathers Falling: Licking Wounds
       By: MAT Date: March 19, 2025, 9:16 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-15 03:40:16 | 13701
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       "Or you'll find people who understand you." Maybe that didn't
       make so much sense in context, but she said it anyways and meant
       it. Maybe in conjunction with what he'd said about the weapon,
       the treasure that made him feel connected to people, part of a
       community.
       "I'd love to see it if you want to show me sometime." She
       remembered she had a glass of water and took a moment to drink
       some.
       Only to about spit it out when he elaborated on the
       Tzitzimitlraja's anatomy. Then, she laughed as well, holding a
       hand to her nose
       "It's okay, I believe you." She waved her other hand, still
       reaching for the napkin on her lap to wipe her face. It took her
       a minute to recover. She looked at him and grinned again.
       Sniffed once as if to clear the las tof water from her nose.
       "For a litle while, at least." she settled, the girn on her face
       going from full wattage to a smile like a sun-warmed rock. "I
       did a lot of traveling after what happened. Wound up in some
       places. You know, Whitecliff isn't the only place that has...had
       trouble. People angry at each other, people fighting over
       things they might not if they just understood each other better.
       You know? Maybe if Baron Lucky's got that kind of problems too,
       I could help while I'm here."
       She picked up her other half of burger with her right hand. Laid
       her left on the table, draped casually on the tablecloth a
       little ahead of her plate.
       ----
       ## Percival ap Beaumayn / 2025-03-19 02:42:57 | 13848
       Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans
       Glide off down the lake
       Whether your sunglasses are off or on
       You only see the world you make
       Knight-Errant | Bizarre Quality | Popular
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       “Yeah.” He leveled a glance at Corine, and after a moment said,
       “You seem pretty hell-bent on cheering me up.” It wasn’t an
       accusation, just an observation. He seemed just slightly amused,
       but good-naturedly.
       “Let’s make a plan to go to Lucky Jack’s, then. I’d prefer a
       Friday evening, Saturday, or Sunday. Another weekday evening
       would be fine, too, but I get up pretty early to get to school
       so I like to turn in early too.”
       Percy shrugged. “We might be able to find some information
       there, or someone who knows better magic.” He knew that he
       wasn’t much of a magician. He certainly didn’t know anything
       that might reveal any knowledge, or anything esoteric that other
       nobles might know. He wasn’t even really sure what was possible
       with the arts.
       “But be careful when we go. I don’t know what’s going on there,
       but we might ask.”  He chewed his steak, and looked hesitant to
       continue.  Eventually, though, he said, “Last week, I saw this
       guy standing outside my building. Just... standing there. Middle
       of the night, not moving. Next morning, he was gone - but there
       was a cigarette still burning on the sidewalk.”
       He rolled his neck. “I had a dream about him. Or, at least, I
       think it was about him. Or maybe her. And for some reason I
       think they were somehow connected to the freehold.”
       Percival didn’t really like talking about the visions he
       received, in part because he was so bad at interpreting them. He
       felt like he always sounded like an escaped mental patient.
       ----
       ## Corine Ashgrave / 2025-03-20 00:16:51 | 13892
       *You ask -  who will answer?
       In need, who will come?
       When the last line is broken
       When the day is all but done?*
       Troll | Wilder
       [Games of Chance: Las Vegas, NV](/roomloc/21)
       In reponse, Corine took another bite of burger. While she
       chewed, she made an coy little expression, pulling her mouth to
       one side as if to say *so...?* Perhaps just equally amused by
       his observation.
       "I can do the weekend. I don't have a schedule yet, depending on
       how this interview goes. Let's trade numbers, we can get a good
       time." She reached inot her purse for her phone, set it on the
       table. Shouldn't be too hard to go the upcoming weekend, even.
       Even if she got this job, she probably wouldn't be starting
       until the following Monday.
       "A Freehold is usually a good place to find those things." She
       agreed. Kithain who knew different things, who had different and
       better talents. It wasn't like she was some puissant sorcerer
       either. She'd learned things that would be helpful to her thus
       far, or just fun to know.
       She was swiping her last onion ring through the last bit of ring
       cause when his warning left his lips. She looked up, lifting one
       eyebrow. Listening.
       "We'll be careful." She promised, taking him seriously. "If
       there's a problem, maybe can help with it."
       Or maybe they'd just find themselves tangled in a bunch of weird
       nonsense. But at least they could try.
       When the waitress came by with the check, she immediately
       stretched out her hand to take it. This one was on her.
       *****************************************************