Back Home?-No Event-BYOA

[grimholdkeeper]

After a quiet night in his room, Balthazar wakes in a labyrinth of clutter and dust, sprawled across a threadbare red velvet divan. The smell of the place, and the feel, is so utterly familiar he sits bolt upright. Home? Home! Delight and relief are immediately replaced by a vague sense of regret. He can't quite remember where he thought he

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Better late than never?

[sunnotshadows]

It was to be a short jaunt, just over to the Fortunate Isles and back with some much-needed supplies; blue lotus, lemon gildflower, some other herbs and supplies that one simply could not find in the mundane planes. Just a quick walk on the trod-path through the overland. Nothing unusual, nothing strange. Amarante had made the journey enough times as to do it in her sleep.

This time however, as she made careful steps through the nonworld, the path began to twist and turn with the mist, leading off in wildly veering directions. Flashing lights that bobbed and swayed and the hint of garbled, whispering voices in the distant gloom made for treacherous journey. Do not follow the lights, do not try and understand the voices. Evey child knew those lessons by heart.

The mist grew darker, the path barely able to be seen at all, and finally everything she knew was hidden, as the gloom became a blackness that even she could not see through. Careful not to stumble, Amarante moved step by step until finally she could see something that appeared just out of reach, something that was not so dark as the blackness surrounding. The closer she got, the more clearly it became defined. A rectangular shape, taller and wider that she was, and Mara could finally recognize it for what it was. A door.

"The gods do things in their own time, for their own reasons" she whispered, and breathing a prayer to her own deities, the young half-human faeling took a step through the portal door.

And came face to face with a tall, bewildered looking man staring back at her with a rather alarmed look on his face.

"Well, this was not quite what I had expected."

Likewise, I hope! Halloween ate me.

[grimholdkeeper]

He's startled when the strange woman steps through the door, especially since she quite literally steps through the door, without bothering with the niceties of unlocking or pushing it open. His first thought is self-defense, but his second is to step around her, reach past, and press his palm against the glass again.

He's not an idiot, and his experience in magic tells him there are ways to get through doors that do not involve opening them. He was just hoping whatever portal she used was still open and accessible to him, as well.

Maybe it's better it isn't.

He turns back to her and answers belatedly, "No, nor I. Unless you're here to cause me trouble specifically, I wonder if you'd be good enough to tell me what's outside? Normally it's a street in Manhattan, but that wouldn't explain the darkness or the fact that I can't get out."

Re: Likewise, I hope! Halloween ate me.

[sunnotshadows]

"Trouble? Why would I, But - you brought me here and, oh."

"Les yeux de deiu, not again." She turns around and sees not the swirling dark, familiar mists of the overworld but instead a glass pane, solid and firm. "Manhattan you say? Les Etats Unis, the United States? The east coast side and not the west, oui?"

Well, things were looking up a bit at least. She was not so far from home, all things considered. It was only a matter of three, no four thousand kilometers. Much better than the last time. But wait, he did say 'normally' did he not? Oh merde!

She spoke slowly, thinking her words as she pronounced them. "Mon pardons, monsieur. I do not know where you are. I know where I came from, and where I was going to; but I was diverted from my travels on the trodpath by a darkness that I have never seen, and this was the only door found. I though that to mean that it was you who has summoned me."

She in turn puts her hand to the glass, solid and cool under her fingertips. "And it seems that whatever wanted me here, would prefer that the two of us remain. At least for now."

[grimholdkeeper]

He shakes his head at once, denying that he has anything to do with her presence here, but he doesn't speak until she's said her piece. He speaks French fluently, so what she says doesn't strike him as odd at all until she gets to paths in darkness. "Your travels between worlds, you mean? I promise you, I didn't summon anyone. I find that sort of magic to be dicey, ethically speaking, and anyway there's a lot of potential for backlash. I woke here, on the red divan over there, after some odd dreams I don't quite recall. Now...I have no idea what's outside or how to find out without risking my neck."

Backing away from the door, he leans against a glass counter containing multiple pieces of jewelry and small sculpture. "That's assuming there's some sentience behind it rather than chance. Time will tell, I suppose. Are you expected anywhere?" No one's likely to come looking for him. Maybe she'll be missed and sought.

[sunnotshadows]

"And I tend to ignore anyone who attempts to summon me unless they are quite polite and ask nicely first." Her eyes sparkle, a hint of lighthearted mischief in a troubling time before her eyelashes lower and the young-looking woman before him is once more composed and polite. Rather, her face is that of a young woman; the rest of her is hidden, a huge grey-blue cloak enveloping her body, showing only the outline of something large and rounded jutting out from her back.

"That divan there? Is this..." She turns her head slowly, her eyes taking in the weapons, the suit of armor, the various counters and shelves. "Is this all yours then? That is to say; you awoke over there but did you also fall asleep there?" How curious and interesting it all is! Mara shifts the pack on her back, the bottles clinking together under the folds of material as she edges forward to take a closer look at the jewelry under the glass. Some small statues seem familiar to her, others are as strange and unusual as a fever-induced dream. And there is a subtle buzzing felt on her skin, something she'd ignored upon her arrival; the touch and taste of ceremony, of crafting, both high and low. Magick. She was, yes. She was surrounded by it, and if she breathed deep she'd be breathing it in. What is this place?

Her head lowered, her voice does not carry far. "Then you have tried all the windows and other escape routes as well? Or should we attempt them next?" She changes the subject and raises her head only to shake it in the negative. "Non, they quite think that I shall be gone for a fortnight, and I've been gone less than a week. I was actually hoping to make it home more early than late this time."

One follows where the gods may lead them, and somebody - something - led her here. Amarante gives a half-hearted sigh, her hands clasping together and hidden in yards of cloth. "I did nothing unusual in my leaving the isle, I followed the proper path until it was no more. But you say, you said you had dreams? Strange ones? Do you often dream strangely, monsieur?"

And no, she does not yet offer information about herself, nor does she offer her name. And she will not as of yet shed her cloak.

[grimholdkeeper]

He assumes the strange shape under her cloak is some sort of pack, but it's not really his business, and he's already got the idea that this woman is not fully human. He returns the smile politely. "I'll remember that in case I run into an emergency," he says, although he can't conceive of an emergency so dire he'd want to run a summoning spell.

He nods at the threadbare velvet cushions. "Yes...it was owned by an extreme hedonist. I usually avoid it; it carries some memories. But, yes, this is my shop. To be honest, I don't remember where I fell asleep, or why. It's possible I've been sick."

He follows her gaze as she looks over the collection of small items. "Those are mostly blessed. I have more specific amulets elsewhere, and I lock up as much of the cursed jewelry as I can. I haven't tried any other doors, but if you look up at the skylights, you can see there's darkness there, too."

He senses her reserve, and it makes him more cautious. Instead of answering the question about dreams, he asks one of his own, "The isle? Can you tell me the name of this isle?"

[sunnotshadows]

That would make sense wouldn't it? That a magick user, one who eschews summoning because of his ethical beliefs would also lock away cursed items from the innocent and the unwary? He locked them away rather than to destroy them. And yet he keeps the divan out where one can rest upon it, even though he himself doesn't often make use of it. Still it is there should he wish to. Interesting. Yet another piece of the puzzle that is this tall stranger before her.

Amarante makes her decision then. "The Fortunate Isle? It, or rather they for it is a collection of such; they have no name but that, and no ruler but my Lady and her consort." She gives a casual Gallic half-shrug. Its simply the truth, so far as she knows. It's likely been confused with other other islands of myth and legend but - non. It is no Atlantis. It is no Avalon. The Fortunate Isles simply are.

Names have power, any magick being knows that. So she is hesitant before giving him the gift - the power - of knowing her own. Still, there is something about him; something that inspires a trust, trust and perhaps more.

And after all, it is the only the proper thing to do.

"And I am Amarante LeGarde, Chatelaine of my Lady's holdings in the Sunset Lands." It's not all of her name, not by a long shot. But it's the name she goes by when among her mother's people. It should hopefully do somewhat to break the ice a bit and put a crack into that wall of unfamiliarity and distrust between them.

"And now you know whom to summon, should you have need to call upon me. In an emergency of course. However before going to all that trouble? It might simply be easier to use the phone." Is she teasing him? Oh maybe just a bit. Ok, more than just a bit.

"Pardons monsieur, is there someplace perhaps that I may lay my pack down? Someplace safe and out of the way where it would not be opened and pawed through? I have carried it for a while." She can see an unused corner back by a bookshelf but even that was a bit open for her tastes. Perhaps the man had a back room away from prying customers eyes?

"I give you my word, so much that you can take the word of a stranger that is. I give my word that there is nothing in here that would" Oh, but that's not true. Amarante pauses delicately and speaks again. "Nothing deliberately meant as harmful to others. Nothing sentient and nothing cursed."

What she says has as much weight as what she does not. Were the contents potentially powerful? Yes. Dangerous in the wrong hands? Again yes. Disastrous to the unwary? oooh yes, yes indeed.

[grimholdkeeper]

Balthazar is a student of mortal man's attempts at reaching for the supernatural. Magic done by men in order to even the score against the more powerful beings that walk the earth, or even simply against the uncontrollable forces of nature around them. He's not unfamiliar with the fae world, not by a long shot, and yet his dealings with the fair folk have been few and far between. He knows what she means by the Fortunate Isles, although the names Avalon, Annwn, Tir na nOg, might mean more, even if inaccurate to the reality she comes from. In his mind, they're all simply words mortals have used to describe something just a little beyond their psychological reach, and he's never seen any of the places they describe.

He nods slowly in response to her name, and offers a gallant bow that's a little at odds with his scruffy appearance. "Well met, then, Lady. I was born Belshazzar ap Lake, but I mostly just go by Balthazar these days." Odds are fifty-fifty a fae being from his own reality would recognize the name. Since he can't be sure how close a parallel she comes from, he's not betting on her knowing the history attached.

Amused by the phone quip, he smiles, but says nothing in response, glancing at the curve of the pack again. The impact of her last statement is more powerful than she may expect; he understands the careful adjustment of words so as to tell enough without telling too much, and especially without lying. It makes him far more inclined to trust her. "We're the only two people here as far as I know," he says, "aside from spirits trapped in objects here and there, and there should be no way they would escape. So your items are safe wherever you would like to set them, but if you'd like someplace out of the way, I have cabinets and a safe in the back. And I can make coffee or tea, if you'd like."

((Sorry for the lag. It's going to be a busy week, so slow is the order of the day.))

[sunnotshadows]

She repeats the names to herself twice and then once more. Both his birth name and then his common name as well, to cement them in her memory. Neither one ring in her mind so far as she could tell. And she'd been made to memorize a fair number of the mortals who's arcane knowledge brought them in contact with her lady.

"Well met yourself as well, Monsieur Balthazar." She dips her head, a bit of a smile playing about her lips. "And a very fine shop you have here." It was a warmer, more admiring glance that she gave to the bookshelves. Ah, what knowledge, which legends and what history that she could learn if she only had the time!

"We are alone now, but for how long I wonder? I think perhaps that someplace less public would be preferred. And an offer of tea is appreciated; I gladly accept your hospitality." Shrugging her shoulders, shifting her pack-weight once more, Mara waited to follow him to this more private area, and more importantly? Toward where the tea was.