Logs:I Beseech Thee

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I Beseech Thee

Characters: Ashton,Caelan,Ian
Date: 2020-05-17
Summary: Caelan approaches the Spring Monarch to swear himself to the Freehold

Gotta keep the temperature there," Ian indicates a specific spot on the stove dial. "Not much higher. Butter has a low smoke point and it'll turn brown and start to burn off. It's still delicious but it's definitely a different flavor. Harder to clean the pot too." It's probably time to flip the first sandwich, so Ian sets about doing that, and the golden brown side of the bread is exposed. "I like staying up late because honestly, it just feels better. Also it's hard to stop screwing around on the internet." An impish grin flashes over. He and Ashton are in the kitchen, which is currently also host to a horde of cats, all munching their dinners from bowls set at the end of the bar on the floor. "Can't go to bars all that much. Stupid Fetch went and got famous, which is /hell/ on anything like a normal life." It smells like they're making grilled cheese sandwiches. ...It should probably be mentioned that Ian is in pale pink tartan swim trunks. He ditched the sandals at the door, so that's ... really it. So regal. Much majesty. The horns and wings do help him fail to look silly, though.

In contrast to Ian's swimwear, Ashton is adhering to a business casual dress code - button-up gray silk shirt, black jeans, and gray ankle-length dress boots. Considering the fatty scent of butter and cheese that's filling the kitchen, and all the cats rubbing by the guy's feet while they attack their own bowls of kibble, Ashton might be in for some serious laundry after this. "Good point. I could just fry up those eyes and melt some butter over them... Or hey! Could make some kind of miso butter or soy sauce butter combo too. Bet the savoriness will work." The Darkling's basically drooling at the thought. Thankfully, he's still capable of following along the more serious notes of their conversation. "What does your Fetch do? It kind of sucks that you can't go out because you might get recognized. My Fetch isn't famous at all. He pretty much just nags me and then nags his husband to tip me more for the stuff I send back."

Caelan came in looking determined. The young fairest having steeled himself towards some purpose though what has yet to be seen. Dressed at anachronistic and dapper as ever he stopped in front of a selection face screwed up slightly as he took a moment to fix his bow tie before giving a huff of satisfaction and made his way inside a hand in the air and finger pointed upwards as if he were about to say something grand and poignant. Though when he didn't see anyone right away and instead smelled the cooking of food he made his ways towards the kitchen. Opening the door and holding onto the door frame as he poked himself through it sideways to peer within. That single blue eye not covered with blonde hair spied the couple. "Oh, hello there! Your Highness, Ashton. I was hoping I'd run into you sooner or later! I well err, I guess I should do introductions first." He said finally walking into the kitchen and towards them as they cooked.

Twitch go Ian's wings at the address of a royal title and one can practically /see/ his spine stiffen up. The slightly spiked ridges there are more draconic than human, but since he's made of glass, the details aren't too obvious. "Hi there," he addresses Caelan, because it saves him from having /that/ conversation about his Fetch. "Just Ian, please. Season'll be over in just... five more weeks." A sigh rolls out and Ian looks back at the grilled cheese sandwiches, flips a second one over, then checks under a third. He's made four so far. "You hungry? Grilled cheese."

Ashton flashes Ian a pained look. -Caelan- identified the Spring King on first glance. Cats really are the devils of ultimate distraction to have prevented Ashton from picking up the fact with the same speed. Unless it's not Caelan's first time talking to Ian? A silver-eyed gaze twitches curiously between the two individuals, but Ashton doesn't voice his question, not being quite nosy enough for it to matter. "Hey, Caelan. His Majesty here is making an incredible set of grilled cheese sandwiches. Buttered bread and all. You should definitely give it a go. I bet one of these babies taste even better than your Fetch might," he greets his other recent new acquaintance with easy friendliness.

Caelan stopped once close enough and removed his hat. A somewhat bashful smile upon his pale white features as those serpentine eyes looked between the pair. Though at the mention of food his smile grew a little too wide as his expression instead more looked like hungry predator. That was always there, always lurking, and always hungry. "Oh but of course! It's why I endeavor to always look my best and be in proper attire. I never know when the next meal might strike me for I am am always hungry. Be it the fruit of knowledge, grilled cheese, or the enemies of our fair freehold!" He said then with a sharp toothed grin before taking a moment to wipe a bit of saliva off of the corner of his cheek with a dainty application of a hankie pulled from his pocket. Taking a moment to right himself in both mind and posture as he gave a little bow. "Caelan Goodrum, recently escape and all that. I was hoping to petition your court if you have the time to listen today?" He asked hopefully holding his hat against his chest with both hands now the hungry predator faded and replaced with hopeful innocence of a lost boy.

"Don't build me up too much," Ian grumbles to Ashton with a wry smile, "it's just grilled cheese." But he's popping that first sandwich out on a plate and nudging it out onto the counter where someone can grab it, whichever hungry predator feels like getting it first. A fifth sandwich is getting prepared a moment later and dropped into the frying pan, this one with some sliced black forest ham and provolone cheese. "I've got plenty of free time - just need to make sure the food doesn't burn." He glances over his shoulder and gives a nod towards the Spring Crown, which is hanging on the wall there. (+view Crown) "Put your hand on that when you swear. The oath is simple: Until Spring gives way to Summer, I agree not to bring harm deliberately to the Freehold, not to support the Gentry in any way, and to keep the Accords as best as I am able." A pause to let that sink in, then, "Put your glamour into the oath, and it will be sealed." He lifts the pan off the stove and turns to watch.

Just as Ashton suspected, there seem to be a serious talk coming up. Showing some consideration, the Darkling snags one of the grilled cheese sandwiches and flashes Ian a grateful smile for the food. Then, he uses two fingers from his free to mime strolling out to the backyard at the other two men. He'll munch on the free meal outside and give everyone else some privacy for now. And seconds later, accompanied by careful dancing around all the cats underfoot, Ashton's back out in sunlit yard.

Caelan's eyes grew wide. Even in the time of his durance he knew well the power of oaths. With some hesitation if only for reverence sake he made his way to the crown and recited the oath allowed, letting a bit of glamour flow through him and into the crown to seal his words with that of the other members of the freehold. With that done he approached the counter and looked down at the food and then back up to Ian, then to the food once more. It was a pattern that seemed to repeat itself until with a sudden hungry lunge he grasped a whole sandwich opened up with a wide mouthful and chomped it down almost instantly. A sort of placated calm seemed to take the young serpent-like Changeling before he spoke again. "Thank you, my hunger is a ever present thing. It's nice to sate it especially cooked by one such as yourself. I wanted to beseech the court for assistance. I only just arrived from Arcadia and find my life in disarray. I was wondering if the Crown to could find me a temporary place to live and perhaps employment of some sort while I acclimate?"

The oath-making is witnessed with the solemn seriousness of formal tradition, and then Ian nods acceptance as that last bit of glamour seals it. The sandwiches are getting scooped onto plates, and he just starts another round, because honestly, more sandwiches are never /bad/, though fresh /is/ best. "All right." A smile flashes over at Caelan. "Forgive me for not telling you any of this first, I've just witnessed so many oaths since the Crown sprouted that I sort of assume it's the first thing anyone wants with me." More sandwiches are coming!

"First, we are two separate organizations - the Freehold, and the Community Center. The Community Center will help you even if you're not a member of the Freehold, but we expect you to keep Hospitality here," Ian says, and begins moving to put the bread, cheese, and meat away now that the last few sandwiches are cooking. The butter can stay out, it'll get used up anyway. "The Freehold is only hosted here because I couldn't get the hang of Winter's idea, which was sort of a roving Freehold. Meet at somebody's house one week, meet at the library a different week... it just seemed like too much hassle, so I just parked it here." Back to the sandwiches he goes, to check if they're ready yet, wings shuffling and fidgeting behind him.

"What that means for you," Ian adds, "is that you're in the right place. This building is dedicated to helping the freshly returned find their way and return to the world. We've got little houses out back if you'd like some privacy, plus dorms if you prefer company. The staff is trained in helping people cope with the grief and loss that comes with the discovery that the world is no longer as you left it." A serious look is cast over. "It's all pretty informal, but it is a place to stay and something to do, for as long as you choose to join us."

Caelan listened with obvious interest in the monarchs rules. This was certainly a different speed of things, being offered something. Hospitality, a place to stay. So ever used to strings and unfair deals in the past but his senses and instincts didn't give him any reason to look for the strings attached to this. "I...I did. Well.. I did bad things, I hurt people. Damned them, watched them devoured or did it myself when my Keeper was generous. Are you sure you can offer a snake like me a place here?" He asked, he didn't want to hide what he was during his durance from the King. Something about this felt like a fresh start, one that owed confession for it felt the only way to leave that in the past. "You seem such a fair creature, kind and collected. I'm full of such anger and a taste for revenge and violence. Are we not too different?" That question almost hoping that he would be proven wrong. As he held his hat against in both hands, perhaps a nervous tick as he fiddled with the brim using his thumbs. Seeming strangely innocent from someone that just admitted to cannibalism.

The corner of Ian's mouth quirks up and he points out gently, "I'm a dragon. I have eaten people. My fetch sang thousands, maybe millions, into slumber so that my Keeper could take something precious from them - using /my/ voice." That still rankles, by the guttural little noise on the end of the words. He reaches over from where he is by the stove to offer his slightly talon-tipped hand. "We are all what they made us, but we are more than that." The words are quiet, fierce. "I am no mere decoration. You are no mere minion. Is that not true for you?"

Caelan thought o that for a moment. He sat his hat down nearby as he took the Monarchs outstretched hand into his own. Gazing down at it his head tilting forward before those yellow eyes one hidden behind a fringe of hair looked upwards at Ian. "The most shameful part ,is that part of me still desires it. Is that alright? If I channel those perverse and forbidden desires towards our enemies and those that wish to do us harm? Does that make these dark thoughts acceptable?" He asked hopefully. "I'm not sure I can change, the hunger has only grown since I escaped and now I feel like I don't have an outlet." As if by nervous twitch or to relieve some of that stress he released the taloned hand and instead took another sandwich and in a single bite swallowed it. No doubt fae magic drove this hunger. The boy so slender, lithe, and agile by nature didn't seem to gain a pound or make much progress on sating himself but temporarily each time he feasted.

Glass fingers, strangely pliable for glass, squeeze Caelan's in reply. Ian considers this for a moment, watching the man with no fear, no worry, just a deep sense of sober concern. "It's not my place to say whether it's acceptable or not. Acceptable is defined as what /you/ will accept." He reaches over with his free hand to take the sandwiches off the burner and turn off the stove, then turns more fully to face Caelan, never letting go of the other's hand. "Hunger is not a bad thing. It tells us of a need. It's a survival trait, a part of being alive - if you hunger, you remember to feed yourself and you don't starve. It starts as a good thing. It's the influence of the Gentry which takes it beyond that." Ian offers the other hand, reaching out to take Caelan's free hand to get the man's full attention. "Some of the Lost fight it by fighting Them. They fight back, hunt, and devour. Others reflected their hunger elsewhere. Elaborate meals, careful diets, eating disorders." His lips twist in a tiny frown. "I would rather see you be one of the ones who can accept and use your hunger than one of the ones who devours themselves, but that's not up to me."

Slowly those serpents eyes were joined by a slight smile that turned to a bashful grin. In that moment he was part the monster he was made with those sharp teeth and the void past his gullet that a whole human could fit within without discomfort. Though even with those monstrous fae details his bashful innocence seemed to shine through though his words a bit sharper then his youthful elegance put on. "I want to help fight them, to kill them. The turn the weapon that she made me into against them. Can I do that for you while you reign? I'd like to be a squire, to learn and improve." Violence seemed to be part of his nature, though somehow even as the words left him mouth they were gentle and delicate. So strange was the fairest that feasted, the voracious dandy that desired pleasure and violence in equal parts. Even so it seemed tempered not the unbridled rage of an ogre or the bestial force of a beast.

A small smile curls across Ian's mouth - yeah, he recognizes that urge. Sometimes he feels it himself. "You will want to speak with Odette, our dancer. She's the leader of the militia. Her number is on the bulletin board over there." He nods towards the front hall accordingly, and at last releases Caelan's hands - nothing too sudden, just gently freeing the man. "Are you familiar with cellphones?" That's a strange question to have to ask anyone, but it gets asked regularly around here.

Caelan closed his mouth and bit his bottom lip slightly a bit of a blush to those pale cheeks as he nodded. He felt a bit embarrassed no doubt from bearing his feelings like that. But something about Ian made him feel comfortable doing so. Maybe it was the regal benevolence of a monarch. "I.. I probably made things a bit more personal than usual for your oaths, huh? Sorry about that." At the mention of a Militia he nodded. "Oh sure I'll uhh do that. Is there anything I can do around here to help out since you all are giving me a place to live? I never had a real job before unless you count lying to people and taking them for all they're worth." Though o the topic of cellphones he laughed. "They're a lot more fancy now, I was taken around two-thousand and five so we had them!" He said with a gentle child-like laugh. It seemed airing his concerns lifted a weight off of him. For a change things were looking up for the young Changeling.

"Cool," Ian says with a grin. "I had to figure them out when I got here. We had them but I was young when I was taken, so I didn't have one." He settles his back on the counter next to the stove and curls his wings forward to wrap around his shoulders and sort of frame his face - they're too damn tall to fold at his chest, unfortunately. "So, rules of the house: the cats are for petting, don't hurt them and if they're bothering you, please let the staff know so we can keep them away from you. Some of them are probably as voracious as you are. Some of them don't make friends easily - Charlie lives under that lounge chair there, he takes care of the kittens." Ian points it out. "Just avoid him and he'll be polite to you - he's fairly feral. Hmm... clean up your own messes, don't be afraid to ask for help, use the buddy system if you're not sure where you're going or worry you're going to get in trouble... pretty standard stuff." Summer camp, but for Lost. Ian points at a hallway leading off into the building, "That's where my room is, it's the door marked Private. Feel free to come get me if you need me. I will kill the fuck out of anything that tries to get in here that shouldn't, and I will gladly hold it still for you to eat." For a moment, his grin is rather sharp.

Caelan flipped his hat back upon his head and did a little spin before hopping into the air landing on one hand as the other held his hat in place, clapping his shoes together in the air once and then landing once more onto his feet as he offered a bow. The whole ritual likely some form of respect in the swampy land he lived during his time in Arcadia, hold habits are hard to break. "Well thank you, can I do something around here to help out? Maybe rake leaves, mow the lawn, clean your alliances? I'm no brownie but even I did chores as a kid! I'd hate make anyone think I'm above that kinda work!" He said with a tone that suggested that was a common assumption in the past given his looks.

"Clean my-- no please." Ian is watching Caelan with concerned amusement now. "No cleaning people without permission, that sounds unsanitary. Or dangerous. Or maybe hilarious, but I don't want to be responsible for the consequences." See? The world is still weird. "I will say, we give out money and equipment to anyone who needs it, within reason, so if you feel like you need it, go grab it." Hmm. Chores. "There's always something to do, but you want something specific that's yours, don't you." This is going to take some thought. He taps his lower lip with a click, and stops immediately because ugh, glass on glass.

It's at this point that the backdoor cracks open and a head pokes in. Ashton's pale face contrasts sharply with that of the hue of the door, making it impossible to hide without an active effort if anyone spots. him. In fact, he's not even trying to avoid attention, since he speaks almost immediately after his head makes its reappearance. "Great sandwich. It really satisfied my grilled cheese craving. Should I bring the plate back in now...?" A translucent brow lifts over his left eye as he allows the question to slowly trail off. The answer will be his cue for entering the area or ducking back out again.

Caelan looked over and gave a smile as Ashton returned. Whatever transpired while he was away seemed to of left the young Blonde in good spirits. "Oh, well take your time. But you should know that it is very likely in the coming days I will be looking upon you with a hopeful and somewhat needy expression as I search for validation for all the charity you've bestowed on me." He said jokingly though it certainly wasn't far from the reality what would follow. Though he suddenly have a thoughtful look. "Wait did I say alliances? I meant appliances! Oh dear did I feel your head with thoughts of bath houses and scrub brushes?" He asked with a little giggle.

"Come on in, Ashton," Ian says easily, and nudges over the plate of sandwiches - then turns to the stove to get the rest and pile on more. There are now probably about five remaining, some of them with ham and cheese, not just cheese - and somehow he suspects they'll all get eaten. He scoops one up and bites down to give himself a moment to think. While his mouth's closed, one can't see what he's chewing, but things get dicier when he opens it to take another bite. The perils of being glass, probably. "Naah, more like assassinations," he comments between those bites. "My mind goes to weird places. It's the dragon side." Chomp. "Mmnh." Food. A leggy young cat comes scrambling through the kitchen, chased by a larger orange tomcat, and Ian just leans out of the way. "We need a doctor," he remembers suddenly. "Our last one just went off to medical school. Um." He's still thinking about things Caelan can do, since the maintenance is mostly handled by the CCC's staff.

Caelan laughed a little bit. "Well you could always annoy the other seasons and create something silly that your dragon mind does go to. Who knows maybe if I'm made your royal Assassin the Wyrd will find a way to make it interesting for us both." He joked. "Well think of on it! I'm going to go and check those cottages you talked about and see if I can't settle in a little bit! A lot's happened today." He said mostly to himself than anyone else as he does another little pirouette before heading towards the door and Ashton. "See you soon I'm sure. All sworn in now, I'm a freehold member." He said wiggling his fingertip in a gesture of the magic of such an oath as he made his way out humming gently to himself though loud enough to hear.