Childermas Surprise: (Come One, Come All)

"We should probalby pay our respects to." Star thought a moment before grabbing one of Squicks hand in both of hers "We'll crab some ice scream sandwiches, say hi to Jack and then hit the dance floor!" Happyness radiated from her plan as she tugged the tunnelgrub after her. True to her word they first hit up the icecream area, which had no icecream sandwiches. Star however, was very DIY when it came to desert. Grasping two nearby cookies she plopped some icecream in between, though there was no telling what flavor they were considering the colors she chose were orange and the other green, and passed one to Squick, holding the other for herself.

Star then took charge again and dragged the poor green man with one hand while eating icecream with the other, towords the throne for the Jack-of-Crows.

"Hardly," Daphne replied to Erin. If Sasha bothered her, she didn't change expression to show it. Still, the timbre in her voice suggested she was not, in fact, charmed.

Daphne watched the approaching, ambling bear, then. "My word, and what a creature you are," she said once he'd plopped down. "Ben the bear, is it? Do you have any special powers other than diplomacy?" she asked with genuine interest. For surely a bear at this party would be no ordinary bear.

Star

Squick gulped audibly, but then he'd been expecting to have to deal with the Jack-of-Crows at some point this evening, so there wasn't really anything he could do about it. Best get it over with as quickly as possible, then. He grabbed regarded the ice-cream sandwich for a moment (home-made ice-cream smooshed between two cookies made for a unique combination of tastes), and then swallowed it down swiftly, lacerating it with a very great many sharp little teeth on the way.

The Jack-of-Crows was sitting on his throne once more, talking to a somberly dressed gentleman who's form was nothing but shade and shadow. He turned his patch-skinned face towards Star and Squick as they approached, arching one black brow.

"Two of your courtiers, Jack-of-Crows?" The tenebrous man said dryly, regarding them for a moment.

"Indeed and they are, Mr. Herringbone." The Jack-of-Crows said, smiling that slasher smile of his. He steepled his fingers before his face, knife-edge fingers complementing a knife-edge smile. "This lad-a-young-buck is a fellow named Squick, a member of our very own Court, and a master of modern magics involving many numbers and many possibilities."

"Uh. Hello sir." Squick said, bending at the waist in a bow. He'd almost called the Jack-of-Crows 'Majesty', but that wasn't a titled he deserved any longer. He glanced at the tenebrous Herringbone. "I'm an IT specialist in my dayjob."

"Ah. A useful talent, I wish we had a few more such as you around back in the day." Herringbone said, his smile a desert compared to the Jack's malicious grin.

"But who this charming young creature is," The Jack-of-Crows said, turning his attentions to Star, "I have not been informed."


Erin, Daphne

"It's not nearly so much fun when you warn them, Erin." Heather said with a mischievous grin. She stroked Ben's fur, marvelling at its softness, and perhaps the transgressive pleasure of petting an animal that under no normal circumstances would've been receptive towards it. "Don't believe her too much, Mr. Bear. I'm only a little trouble."

Sasha regarded the way the three women cooed over the bear and glanced at Sergei with a frown. "I feel I am doing something wrong here."

"You should've gotten fur." Sergei said, grinning openly. "Too late now, I suppose."


Lauren

"Miss Mary Mack / All Dressed in Black / She's got a knife / stuck in her back." Mack recited again, giving Lauren a steady look in the process. "She cannot breathe / she cannot cry / and so she begs / she begs to die."

"I lived it." Mack said, shrugging, running a hand along the back of her neck. Lauren couldn't see what was there, but something must have been. "I'll tell you some time if you really want, but it's not a nice story. Not a nice poem either. But I like it and it's mine."

"Surely a hundred year old serial killer, the very man who put mass murder on the map, who murdered his Keeper with a knife..." Othello said, waggling his eyebrows, "Would not do something so piddling as get caught, now wouldn't you agree?"

"They're making a movie about him, did you know?" Othello said, observed, smoothing out his whiskers, sleek and feline. "A horror-gorn film in the style of Nightmare on Elm Street or Scream. Low-budget, but not ineffective, so I am told. Coming out just in time for the summer rush."

"Now, in the normal course of events, one of the Lost would be terrified to death of that much attention. Our Keepers are very possessive, and having lost their property, they would dearly love to get it back." Othello said, and he did not smile now. "But our one-time Patchwork King killed his Keeper, and two others beside if rumor holds true. What has Fear to fear?"

Ben

Ben lifted his snout in greeting. Despite the ursine muzzle, he did look like he was grinning. Of course, being big and fuzzy had its perks. People liked to pet you. Ordinarily Ben wouldn't be fond of all the attention, but it was all right with Erin and her friends. He'd had more than enough instances of fans trying to pet him, molest him, cop feels, and otherwise harass him. Erin and her company -- and many of the changelings here -- wouldn't harass him. Erin really was pretty sweet most of the time.

Of course, there were several changelings that would try to molest him, especially when they saw him finally shapeshift into a famous, but naked rugby player. He figured he'd cross that bridge when he came to it, though. For now, it was time to enjoy the fruits of being the Freehold's largest teddy bear.

Ben seemed to be laughing. He tilted his head back and his mouth fell open, tongue hanging out and a faint grin across his face.

Ben regaled Daphne with a perfectly cuddly look, then let his head loll to the side. He could've shapeshifted back into human form (he'd have to eventually, given that it was hard to enjoy cider and food properly as a bear), but he decided it best not to scandalize this new face with his nudity just yet.

So a bit of grass on the ground writhed a little, then a single vine sprouted and rose up in front of Daphne before blooming into a bright white rose that matched his fur nicely.

Ilkin

"Robert is also the single best set designer for horror movies I've ever had the pleasure of working with," Ilkin smiled brightly, "Really, he's the best set designer I've ever met, but he has an incredible knack for horror sets. We've worked together off and on for quite some time."

He considered. "I should know better than to ask since Spike is still learning about the supernatural," Ilkin mused, "But why don't you tell him a little about what you do as an Autumn Courtier? "

"Only something?" Erin replied curiously. She pet the Benbear again. "My fine Mr. Bear is a very nice man. Very sweet. All the time, even. And a bear of many talents." She applauded happily at the rose.

"Mr. Hammond and I have been cooking up a storm, and Sasha had been helping with the cider," Erin told the Bear. "Oh. It must be hard to enjoy the refreshments like that. Here, let me see." Erin picked up one of the carved pumpkins hanging around. Most of them were creepy jack-o-lanterns, carved by Hammond, who specialized in gribbly set design. A few in the kitchen, however, were of more decorative sorts, to better go with the idea of "food" and not remind the guests of all the human corpses in the field outside. This particular one had a few holes carved in it, but nothing near the bottom, leaving a respectable basin. Erin opened it up and took the candle out.

"Would you like a cookie, my fine Mr. Bear?" Erin asked as she did this, nudging Heather and sliding the gingerbread children over, and offering one to Ben. She then uncorked a bottle of cider, pouring it out into the pumpkin, which was sized that she emptied the whole bottle into it.

"I think I saw some apple bobbing, back out in the main room, too," she suggested to the Bear. "I bet you'd be really good at it."

OOC

Michael smiled as his companion arrived. He hardly noticed how Bo was dressed, since he wasn't even close to the strangest dressed person here. He was just glad to see a familiar face. Although Michael had been involved in the wider supernatural world for a little while now, it still felt like he knew no-one. And he had nobody to blame for that but himself. Tonight would be a good opportunity to talk to people, get to know them a little better.

"I've been here a few minutes," he anwered, nodding with Bo's assessment of the party. "It sure is something. You said he was all dark and gothic, but I didn't picture anything like this," he added, grinning. "Have you seen anyone else you know?" Michael asked, feeling certain that Bo would have. He could ask for an introduction to some people, they could circulate. It was, after all, the reason that Michael had been invited as Bo's plus one. He was to become the Pack Ambassador some day. And although he still didn't feel ready, if Gabriel and Tiffany thought he was then they were probably right. They usually were. So he'd step up, fill his responsibilities and make contacts at this party. At least, that was the plan.

“Tawuse, Tawuse, Tawuse…” Underwood mused, rubbing his chin. Then, realization struck. “Holy— you’re Subway Guy!”

He looked at LeNoir. “He’s Subway—” Then, realizing that LeNoir probably had no idea what Underwood was talking about, back at Seth: “We were on that call, pal! Winter Court in New York’s got a logistical interest in the MTA, only we heard about that Lovecraft outfit a few hours too late – so here we are, we’ve shut down the rest of the 7 Line so the mortals don’t get burned, and we’re trying to catch up with your train in a two-bit Rent-a-Cab…”

He shook his head regretfully. “…Hate New York traffic.” Underwood looked back at Seth, with some sympathy. “You okay, buddy? I was low on the totem pole back then – didn’t get a lot of specifics – but I know it was rough business.”

"I think I'd still like to hear it sometime," Lauren said, curiosity apparent in the look she was giving Mack.

"Very little," she agreed. Well, the Jack-of-Crows was clearly not one to be messed with, not that she'd been considering it. "But what about now? You asked me if I knew what getting involved meant, or something. That's all in the past." She'd relaxed again, and had loosened her grip on Oleander to lean slightly towards Othello. More than anything now, she wanted to know why he'd told her all this. You didn't just go around telling people others' life stories.

Lauren

"We can go for drinks later." Mack said, glancing aside at Othello and Oleander. "Without them."

The kind of drinks Mary Mack had in mind did not involve drinks with funny names and little umbrellas in them.

"Now?" Othello said, and then he suddenly grinned. "Now, nothing at all. But you've come to the Jack-of-Crows party, and if you think to escape unnoticed, well, perhaps you will. Or perhaps you won't."

"I could offer some advice." Othello said, polishing his claws on his lime-green waistcoat. "But we all know the value of free advice."

"Do all of the faere speak in riddles?" Oleander said, entering the conversation for the first time in a while.

"Only the ones with something worth saying." Othello said in turn.


Ilkin

"The Autumn Court is the Court of Fear." Hammond said quietly. He had a voice well suited to storytelling, calm and resonant and clear as a bell. "We're the masters of fear, feed off it for our powers, and use it to better the world."

"Because there are things to fear, even for Humanity." Hammond said. "And we remind them of that."

"Like what?" Spike said. Deborah, who had seen more of the other world, could guess, and so kept silent.

"Like monsters." Hammond said with a harsh, metallic smile.


Erin

"I can tell I am not appreciated." Sasha said, though he grinned. "Heather, if you decide you like me more than the bear, I'll be around."

"Probably not." Heather said, smirking over at her boyfriend. "Try not to get into trouble."

"Why does everyone say that." Sasha said, looking at Sergei for some support. His old friend just grinned, and the dragonish man chose to take this moment to escape with some tatters of dignity still intact.

Lauren nodded to Mack, smiling.

She smirked, and it was oddly reminiscent of Oleander. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. "I guess I should be asking what the price of your advice is, then. So, what is it?"

Poor Oleander was, unfortunately, almost forgotten by Lauren. The offer of information was too tempting to even dignify his remark with an acknowledgement. In fact, she'd completely left his side.