|Characters:||Peter, Lilium, and Wesson|
|Summary:||Wesson hunts down Peter and Lilium for her last part of the investigation.|
|Disclaimers:||Beware of jovial Changelings and fancy tiaras.|
It seems the doorman is used to these particular occupants receiving strange visitors, as he doesn't protest a bit, instead smiling and tipping his hat when Wesson enters the elevator.
Alerted by the elevator's *ding*, Peter quickly rushes to get his robe on and open his briefcase.
And so there he is, amidst the smell of coffee and bacon in early morning, holding onto a tiny tinsel tiara when the elevator opens. An aura of severe wrongness surrounds him, the Wyrd marking him as an Oathbreaker.
With an obvious mixture of fear and aggression, the man in the white terrycloth robe asks, "To whom this honor do I owe? Be you friend of mine, or else, then... foe?"
Allowing her into the elevator, Wesson finds herself alone as she rides up, thankfully. Her eyes slide shut as she invokes her Sight of Truth and Lies, the fire that lines her veins glow ever so faintly as they rush up her body to her hair. When the elevator dings open, she finally opens her eyes to peer inside. The fire within her is bright and alert as she steps in to be greeted by Peter...and a tiara? His aggression mixed with terrycloth and tiara is enough to give the Elemental a pause, nearly missing what he said before she cocks her head to the side. "Well, I'm no princess that's for sure. I am neither friend nor foe. I am a stranger sent to find the truth, about you." Her nose twitches at the sight of the aura with a definite look unease etching across her features. "Its up to you to decide my status."
"Lilium! We have company!" Peter shouts, still a little wary. Relaxing a fraction and tightening his robe, he gestures to Wesson to come on in. "Searching for me? Are you a member of the Freehold here?" The fact that he doesn't seem to recognize her actually puts him at more ease, and he moves to sit in the leather chair facing the elevator. Notably, he hasn't invited this new person in. "I am Peter, the uh... Peter Vorhman."
It's very probable that the pancakes are Lilium's doing. She has drying pancake batter on a literal couture princess dress that she's wearing around barefoot. The strains of "Shoop Shoop (It's in His Kiss)" bleed out of a cavernous suite that looks like the inside of a piece of gum it's so pink, when she comes out, humming and singing along, "Is it in his arms? Oh no, that's not the waaaay, you're not listening to what I-" Oh good, a tense living room standoff. This never happens. She blinks a couple times, as Peter's shouting lines up almost to the moment with her stepping back out. She lifts an arm to rub her face, and smears drying batter across one cheek, looking between Peter and Wesson in bemusement, her silver brows drawing inward and upward. "Hello?" she then offers, warily.
As Peter calls out to Lilium, Wesson's eyebrows pop up even further as she stands straighter. "She's here too? Fan-fucking-tastic," and she says that with all honesty and truth. "Yea, on behalf of someone else,” she continues as she finally steps further into the apartment. Her fiery eyes wander about the place in silent amazement at all that greets her. "Fuck, my apartment is the size of your foyer," Wesson's voice is deep and husky, probably thanks to her metal and fire nature. "Wesson," she returns towards Peter with a nod. "Wesson Smith." As Lilium walks out of the pink kitchen, Wesson turns to regard her as well as she offers her another nod in greeting, "Lilium, I presume? I've been looking for the both of you."
Peter eyes Wesson with a surge in suspicion when she mentions her interest in Lilium. He takes his plate of bacon, literally a mound of bacon, off the coffee table and sets it in his lap.
With an overdramatic sigh of frustration, he says in a smooth, soft voice, "We don't usually get guests. And to be clear, you're not a Guest, as per the Accords." He gestures with a strip of pork to the other seats, "Make yourself comfortable, have some coffee. Ask your questions."
With that tiara still clutched greedily in hand, the Oathbreaker tells Lilium, in a much kinder, almost condescendingly gentle tone, "I believe she's here from the Queen. Everything is okay, little love."
At the offer to sit down, Wesson moves to take a seat as well, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. She regards both of them with her fiery eyes but doesn't seem to have much aggression in her, simply wariness and alertness. "Not the Queen," she tells them finally though the thought appears to amuse her slightly; her expression is still neutral and her voice deadpan. At the offer of pancakes Wesson shakes her head at Lilium with a quick, "No thank you. Mind if I smoke though?" At least she is polite enough to ask rather than assume. She then regards the both of them curiously. "This is a small favor I am doing for someone, and well, I felt compelled to be thorough. I heard you both encountered a man by the name of Roland, he owns a strip club called Bottom's Up. Have you met him?"
All of the tension from Peter dissolves at the name of Roland, and just laughs. "Oh! That's all this is about. You may smoke if Lilium doesn't mind." He spares her a glance while crunching down on some bacon. "Please, carry on." He sets the tinsel tiara back into the briefcase and clicks it closed.
"Oh... I don't care. I mean... if it's like... cigarettes or pot or something. If it's like just... randomly smoking... I think over a certain volume and the neighbors might get weird, but that's on them." Lilium frowns gently at the mention of Roland by Wesson and she asks, "I did, yeah. Why?" Where that seems just fine to Peter and he seems relieved, this actually puts the elfin looking Fairest on alert, making her move in a stilted, wary fashion, like a deer in headlights. "Why do you ask?" One ear twitches.
Rather loud still as it echoes, oldies verging on classic rock continue rolling on, from Cher into Tina Turner's Proud Mary.
As he puts his tiara away, Wesson narrows her eyes in curiosity before she leans back to fold her arms. "Yea, I suppose it is rather abrupt how I came to find you. I just figure Changelings first before...whatever he is." She glances towards Lilium at that, apparently regarding her as the Changelings first for some reason. As Lilium agrees to let her smoke, Wesson raises her pack at her in salute before pulling one out to place between her lips. She lights up her cigarette with a lighter then quickly pockets both. "Do you know anything about him? Is he part of the Accord or what? He seems to recognize me without *seeing* me. He is also incredibly gifted with a gun, so he doesn't strike me as...normal. He also name dropped the both of you."
Finishing off the plate of bacon with that slaughterhouse of a mouth, Peter shakes his head. "I think he was in the military. FBI, CIA, maybe something even more special. I know he's magically inept." Peter laughs, "I mean, he has this vault of a bedroom that he thinks is secure but I could get in like that." When he snaps his fingers, his ivory talons click together instead.
All Lilium does is shrug. "I met him briefly. I didn't ever see a gun but would believe it. People love to shoot their guns." The elfin woman wanders into the kitchen to pile an absurd, Dr. Seuss looking pile of pancakes slowly onto a plate, buttering each one by smearing it across a stick of butter on the counter. "He seemed pretty terrified when I met him. I want to believe if he knew shit about shit, he would not have looked so freaked out when I revealed myself." She starts to squeeze syrup over the pancakes, the maple flavored deliciousness oozing thickly out over the pancakes. "I'm not sure why he would fuck with the Accords and not have any idea things like me existed, but it's genuinely hard to say."
Peter interjects, "He's not accorded."
As Peter describes the vault and how easy it is to bypass, Wesson lets out a snort of amusement before she takes a drag from her cigarette. She blows the smoke away from both Draconics. "He strikes me as a man who is focused on the physical more than the intangible, but he isn't entirely harmless, I don't think." As Lilium mentions him being scared of her, Wesson pops her eyebrows upwards once more. "He was a cocky bastard with me, but I suppose I bring that out in people." She leans forward towards the two, and when Peter mentions he is not Accorded, Wesson drops her head in dulled amusement. "Figures," she snorts out before lifting her heaed back up to look at them again. "Well, since that's the case and he is a rogue agent, I think its my duty to mention. He asked me for a favor, to look into both of you and your standing amongst the Freehold. You guys had an agreement or something? I'm not sure. But he is sniffing around."
"Oh," Lilium says, before laughing and closing her eyes, "I don't know as I actually strictly have a standing with the Freehold. Doesn't it require another pledge with the changing of seasons? I haven't interacted to speak of with anyone else like us but Peter and Way who escaped with Peter and I... since like December or so? I mean, you'd be the first, if I recall right... and that's not a guarantee." She walks back around and settles on the couch, indian style, leaving the big plate of pancakes in the center of her folded legs. "Sometimes what tenuous grasp I have on reality seems to just..." she rolls her hand and makes a sound like "Fwoooop." She rolls one of the pancakes up like a very sticky burrito and bites into it with gusto, dripping syrup all over, part of the reason she's leaning over the plate. "I mean, it's probably not great, but then... I got no reason to fuck with any of 'em, other than like... A few people from the Autumn court like Sheena and Nat. And Gretchen." She frowns at the pancakes, "I miss Gretchen. She was like a cat, only affectionate when food was needed. It was great." She licks syrup from her fingers, and hums along with the music, looking over a shoulder in anticipation when it seems like another song might start soon.
Peter nods, "I'm to do him a couple of favors, in exchange for getting glamour from his customers. Nothing drastic." He checks his watch impatiently, "I've got work soon, so I'll answer any questions quickly."
"I've broken my Oath to the Freehold, but am currently in the process of make amends. I've merely got to acquire some specific hedgefruits from the Hedge, and that's that. Most folks adore..." he hesitates, "Well, they adore Lilium. I'm lessss savory for some." He laughs like a Bond villain, lacing his sharp-clawed fingers together.
As Lilium talks about her experience with the Freehold, Wesson bobs her head in agreement as she shifts her cigarette to make sure it doesn't waft towards the eating Fairest. "Reality does have a tendency to slip away every now and then," she agrees. "I have met Sheena. I like her. But I have yet to meet others. I am not quite so new, but like you I tend to keep to myself, until now." She muses at that thought before looking towards Peter. As he mentions Oathbreaker, she lifts her cigarette towards him in agreement. "That is the other thing I wanted to ask. I found out about your status, and your means to amend it. I have to meet Roland soon to give him my report. Do you want me to mention your Oathbreaker status? Now that I know he isn't Accorded, I don't need to make sure he isn't lying when I ask him. If you don't want me to say anything then I will give him a bland answer."
Peter purses his lips, then shakes his head. "No, actually, you can tell him whatever you like. He's not a threat, merely potential, and I don't actually Need anything he offers, soooo..." The Author shrugs and rises, moving towards the elevator, "I have a guest who cleans suits!"
And without notice, the elevator opens to reveal a wrinkled, withered elven creature standing about three feet high and wearing a butler's out. Grumpily, it looks up at Peter and hisses, "Wheres is its, Lords?"
As if this is an everyday occurrence, Peter simply points to one of the bedrooms. The hobgoblin waddles off in that direction, shooting baleful glares at both Lilium and Wesson on it's way. With a nonchalant laugh, Peter says, "Just ignore xim, xe prefers it." He lets the elevator close and walks closer to Wesson, "Is there anything else we can offer?"
"She's the only girl I ever thought was particularly appealing for something other than a friend," Lilium says, guileless as she tucks into the pancakes with a lingering enthusiasm and enjoyment from the chocolate chip to the strawberry to the blueberry and back again. "Is there anything I can do to help you personally?" she offers Wesson, reaching aside when leaning over, aiming to steal one of the slices of Peter's handful of still untouched bacon. "I think I would rather not mess with him if he's going to drag me into shit so quickly," she says of Roland, pausing to look down at the sticky, sticky mess. "Oh, I got syrup on my dress!" she exclaims, frowning down at the fabric with a look of powerful irritation at the plate of food. She dips the piece of bacon in the syrup and gets it, too, just absolutely sopping and sticky. Leaving a trail of occasional syrup droplets on her way into the kitchen for a damp rag. Great, something else for the probable goblin cleaning crew.
At Peter's words, Wesson gives him a curt nod, "That works for me, makes it seem like valuable information. I just wanted to give you a heads up in case he proves to be more troublesome than he is worth," she offers. At the sight of the hobgoblin, she peers curiously as the creature heads towards the bedroom. She then turns back to Lilium. "The Freehold comes first." At Lilium's offer, then exclamation over her dress, the Elemental quickly puts out her cigarette against her boot before tucking the stub into her back pocket. "Your hospitality is more than enough. In fact, if you require anything of me, well, I'm not half bad with a weapon and I tend to do a good job in tracking people down. Just let me know-.." And there Lilium goes. Rising up to her feet, she seems far too amused by the duo as she gathers her jacket to get ready to head out. "That's all I needed. Thank you for your time," she offers Peter as he stands by her. "I'll see myself out. Just remember me if you need anything."Peter nods graciously, pressing the 'open' button for the elevator for Wesson, "Please feel free to stop by anytime. And remember," he leans in to whisper, expression turning briefly vicious, "Never. Upset. My Little Love." And just like that he's back to good charm, stepping away from the open doors.