Logs:More Questions Than Answers

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More Questions Than Answers


Characters: Jacob, Mingzhu, Eva, Ian, Molly
Date: 2020-05-16
Summary: Some Lost meet at the Community Center to exchange information.
Disclaimers:

Jacob has taken over the CCC. Well, not really, but he's currently the only one present. He's lounging on one of the sofas, having plucked a book from one of the shelves and helped himself to some lemonade. His feet are kicked up on a foot rest, the book open in his lap, as he peruses the pages absently. He wears a look of thoughtfulness, as if he's only half paying attention to the words he's reading.

He's dressed in his usual charcoal suit, this time with a pale green shirt. The jacket's draped over the back of the couch and the top button is unbuttoned. His hair is its usual mop of dark curls, and his three day beard has been trimmed. He'd have texted Mingzhu earlier, letting him know he was headed down to share the information he'd learn, and she could come meet him as well.

Into the CCC comes a Mingzhu - surprisingly, not in super bright colours, but shades of black, white and grey today. It goes well with her mien, her charcoal grey skin and white hair almost accessorising the outfit. "Morning, Jacob," she greets the other Fairest with a raised hand, moving towards the kitchen area to sort herself out some coffee. She does deposit her laptop bag on one of the sofas near his, claiming the seat for herself once she's done with making drinks.

'French Girls Do It Better' is the message on Molly's tank top. Another message is 'someone is careless with cigarettes' writ in the burn mark along the hem. Below, she wears skinny black jeans with artfully ripped knees, and heavily scuffed red Converses. Plus leather cuffs and bangles and tattoos that she may not ragret, but won't win any prizes either. Like, skulls and wings and stick and poke daggers. She swings in, stretching, showing off the faintly feathery quills along the outside of her arms, then rakes her clawed fingers through her hair as she looks around, cutting a path straight for the kitchen area. "Hey y'all."

Jacob looks up as Mingzhu enters and smiles. He closes the book and sets it aside, standing and heading towards the kitchen to join her. He gives her a quick kiss to the cheek, then holds up his glass of lemonade. "They stock the good stuff here." He grins at her, then heads back to his seat and flops back down into it, moving the book to make room.

"You remember the other night, I said I had some information about that door of yours? Well, I did a little checking around local doors and I found absolutely nothing. /But/. I talked to some of the local hobs and I did find out soemthing rather interesting." As Molly enters, he looks over at her, those dark, depthless eyes taking in the newcomer. He smiles, "Morning. It's still morning, isn't it?" Time always confuses him a bit, unlike the Telluric.

"Maybe." Mingzhu doesn't volunteer the time, taking and squeezing Jacob's hand briefly when he gives that cheek-peck, then finishing up making her coffee and heading over to sit down next to her laptop case. "Hey," she adds as Molly enters, then nods to Jacob's words. "Okay. The local hobs had some info for you?" she prompts, setting her coffee on the coffee table for now, until it is cool enough to drink.

Is it still morning? Molly cocks her head to look at Jacob. Then she cocks her head again to look at the refrigerator door in front of her, one claw gripping the handle. Then she shifts, digs into a pocket and gets out her phone. Her nose crooks. "It's always morning somewhere," she declares in an accent that might sound local to non-locals or linguists. It's close enough. Pulling the refrigerator door open, she gets out a Coke, pops it open, takes a sip. "Are these hobs from Tumbledown?"

Jacob nods to Mingzhu. He's drawing out his revelation, of course, as some Fairest are prone to do. Drama and all. When Molly speaks, however, he looks over, somewhat surprised. "They weren't, but they were surprised that I /wasn't/ from Tumbledown. They believed all Lost to come from the market, said that they always had for as long as they remembered. Until recently. They've been seeing more and more out of Tumbledown, which they find quite curious." He leans back in his seat, taking a sip of his lemonade. "They, of course, didn't know much about ancient oaths or omens. However... they knew of someone who just might know. And to find her, we need to go to Tumbledown."

"Tumbledown?" Yes, Mingzhu is the Lost in the room who hasn't done any Hedge exploring. It's not really her 'thing', so she's a little behind perhaps on the local landmarks and locations in the New Orleans Hedge. Curling her feet up under herself, she settles comfortably, taking her laptop out of the bag and opening it on her lap, powering it up and also leaving space by moving the bag, for someone else (Molly) to sit if they were so inclined. "Go on/"

Molly nods, head tilting slightly between two sips of coke. She hikes up the tank top just so she can lightly scratch her side aas she wanders closer. "Yeah, I heard something like that, too," she corroborates the story, lifting her coke, then takes a seat. On a table. One leg dangling down beneath her, the other pulled up, foot right on the edge of the table. "I mean, I didn't get any of that about - uh - whatever omens or whatever," she gestures in Jacob's direction with a small shrug.

Jacob nods to Mingzhu, "There's a market there. I haven't actually been to it yet, myself. I've been so busy with... other places. But I think we need to make a trip there." He looks over at Molly and nods again. "Ghostmother is who we need to find. The hobs said that if anyone knows about an ancient oath that's been broken, or who might know about this omen, it'd be her. So, we simply find her and see what she knows." Simple, right?

He takes another sip of his lemonade, glancing over at Mingzhu and her laptop, then back to Molly. "That's it. It's not a lot, but it's a lead."

There's a thoughtful nod from the Telluric, and Mingzhu glances down to her laptop, typing something into some programme or other. Maybe related to the conversation, maybe not. "Do we know if the Freehold has anyone who is especially good at dealing with hobs?" she wonders aloud, reaching now for her coffee and taking a cautious sip to test the temperature, then setting it down again. Maybe it needs a few more minutes.

"Uh. Never heard about any omens," Molly says with another curious tilt of her head. Her eyes don't move much, staring fixedly at Jacob for a second, thinking. Her head moves, though, pivoting to look at Mingzhu a moment later, while pressing the cold can to the side of her neck. "Just heard about Tumbledown from this little mushroom farming fellow, not really my area of expertise. Ain't got one, but if I did that wouldn't be it."

Jacob shakes his head at Mingzhu. "Not right off hand. We can surely ask around. Form a group and go find this Ghostmother." Again, he makes it sound so simple. What could possibly go wrong? In the Hedge. While talking to someone called the 'Ghostmother'. He looks back at Molly and replies, "There was an omen about an ancient door. Possibly a broken oath. We're trying to find out what it's all about. Before whatever's on the other side decides to come out and play." He lifts an eyebrow at the mushroom farming bit. "Little mushroom farming fellow?" His own accent is decidedly not local, being British and all.

"Omens brought me to New Orleans. The note from the King about strange doors and not going into the Hedge alone is because of those," Mingzhu summarises briefly for Molly. "An old oath has been broken, and it relates to a strange door that I'm fairly sure is a hedge gate. Something is being set free, or released. Not sure if that's good or bad yet. Hence the investigation into the potential nature of the old oaths of this area."

"Cool." Molly runs her fingers through her feathered hair again, mouth pinched and tugged off to one side while she considers this talk of omens and ancient doors. She doesn't seem to like it. "Yeah, never heard of that either. Someone should look into it though." She agrees with that, at least, turning her head to briefly check the exits. The can of soda is set aside, right behind her, while she shifts in her seat, now pulling both of her legs up, knees to her chest, arms draped around them. "Yeah, we were looking for hedge fruit and ran into this little hob guy. He was weirded out we ain't from Tumbledown, too."

Jacob nods as Mingzhu explains the omen and the oath. He falls quiet for a moment, sipping on his lemonade and lost in thought. When Molly talks about the mushroom hob, he looks over at her. "Hmmm. Well, it's definitely time for a trip to Tumbledown. I'll talk to Ian. Maybe he knows who's the best with dealing with hobs. We'll form a group and we'll go talk to Ghostmother. It's all I have to go on at the moment."

"If I wouldn't be slowing the group down, I would like to be part of that as well," Mingzhu notes, brows raising slightly at Molly's response, before she adds, "I guess the hobs aren't used to there being Lost in New Orleans. It's an adjustment for them as much as it is for the rest of us and the other members of the Accord."

Molly frees one hand to scratch lightly at the edge of the table. She stares off into the distance for a while, a blank stare at nothing in particular, then cocks her head and fixes her eyes curiously on Jacob. Twisting, she grabs the soda from behind herself, then wonders out loud. "So is that, like, Ghostmother as in she's a mother who's also a ghost? Or as in she's the mother of a bunch of ghosts?"

Jacob looks over at Mingzhu and smiles. "I think you /should/ be a part. You are more familiar with the omen than anyone else. You saw it, yourself. That might be important. I should be there, as well. I understand doors better than most." It's not a brag - his words are matter of fact. "I'm sure Ian can recommend others, as well." Because they can't be going into the Hedge alone. Although... how /did/ Jacob talk to those hobs?

He looks back at Molly as she speaks, lifting an eyebrow. "Hmm. I assumed the mother of ghosts, but I suppose it could be either way. Or perhaps it has nothing to do with ghosts at all." He looks back at Mingzhu. "That's a good point. It's too bad the hobs don't know /why/ there were no Lost in New Orleans."

Ian emerges from his cave - yeah, he ought to go out more, but terminal shyness and enough people to take a small shred of glamour from here - the staff are available for a reason! - mean he really doesn't. He is, fortunately, dressed, and actually looking pretty well put together, with a sleeveless, high-collared grey sweater and designer jeans you'd /have/ to be glass to fit into. Per usual, he's got his oversized phone in his hand and seems to be heading towards the kitchen for coffee. This is getting to be a bit routine.

Eva slips in; she's dressed in a rather subdued dusky lavender today, by way of one of her endless supply of pencil dresses, and black heels that match black lace gloves. She doesn't have a parasol today, perhaps due to her hands being full with a sketchbook and a small pencil case and from having come a relatively short distance from one of the small houses out back. She smiles warmly as she spies the collected Lost, moving over towards an open seat as she listens, clearly finding the conversation interesting.

"Nobody seems to know," Mingzhu acknowledges to Jacob's point, then lifts a hand in greeting as Ian emerges from his cave. "Hey," she chirps, informally, then looks back to Molly and Jacob. "Who would you suggest to go on this little trip?" she enquires, then looks back as Eva enters, tossing a smile her way.

Molly is in red Converses, torn black jeans, and a white tank top proclaiming 'French Girls Do It Better'. She's sitting on a table. Right on the table's edge, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her feet braced against the edge of the table. Sipping on a Coke, head tilted over to the side with a little jerky motions while she watches Jacob and Mingzhu. "What, like, the Holy Ghost? That's not a really a ghost either." A hand comes up, black talons wiggling vaguely in a wave as more people arrive. "I don't know anything about doors, omens or hobs. I just fight."

Jacob looks up as Ian enters and grins, "Speak of the devil. Ian, I was just telling Mingzhu and..." he glances at Molly, realizing he doesn't actually know her name, "the French girl," he looks back at Ian, "about how I talked to some hobs and they didn't know anything about the door or omens or ancient oaths, but they did tell me of someone who might. A person called Ghostmother. We'll find her at the Tumbledown market. We're thinking of making a trip. Me, for my knack with doors. Mingzhu, since she saw the omen. And whoever else wishes to join. Do you know of anyone who's particularly good with hobs?"

As Eva enters, he looks over and smiles. "Ah, another person I've been meaning to talk to. Unrelated. We need to get those measurements taken sometime soon." He's wearing his usual silken charcoal suit with a pale green shirt, although the jacket's currently draped across the back of the couch he sits on with Mingzhu. When Molly speaks, he shrugs. "I don't know why she's named Ghostmother. I just know we need to find her."

Ian breaks into a quick grin - there are people he recognizes, and no one's said the dreaded title yet - and crooks his glass fingers in a wave, before veering into the kitchen. "Anybody want anything? I figured out the machine last night!" While staying up until 5 in the morning, thank you very much. ...There's a reason Ian gets up this late sometimes. The sweater he wears, it should be mentioned, is backless, because the damn wings no longer fit under clothing. They're definitely bigger than he is. To Jacob he adds, "Sounds creepy. Makes me think all her kids died. Not good. But hobs choose strange names." He begins working the machine. "I know a few hobs. None of them owe me favors though, so that gets awkward."

"What sort of trip?" Eva finally asks as she crosses her ankles, setting the sketchbook on her lap, her oddly colored eyes darting from person to person inquisitively. "Hedge? Or is someone poking at ghosts?" There's a twinkle to her gaze for a moment, lips quirking in a smile. "I've heard they poke back." Jacob's initial statement is met with another thoughtful look, then she grins at the remark about measurements. "We do. Then I can finalize the design. And yes, I agree, the lack of Lost in the area is...odd. Although speaking of doors, I did happen to talk with someone who mentioned that there's a dormant Hedgeway that was locked to them the same way it would be to a mortal. Perhaps that means it's older. Or perhaps someone is just creating trouble." She wrinkles her nose.

"I ain't French," Molly says, tank top proclaiming the merits of French girls notwithstanding. "Name's Molly, though," she adds with a small grin from behind her soda can. "Yeah, you could read Ghostmother a bunch of different ways, right? Guess you can ask around, first. 'Cause if she's Ghostmother because she created a bunch of ghosts? Like, killed people and poof ghost babies? Then that's bad," she offers this piece of sage advice with a claw tapping lightly at the side of her head.

Jacob nods towards Ian, "Do you know of anybody who might? Or who's savvy with hobs? And what machine?" When eva speaks, he looks over towards her. "Hedge. At the Tumbledown market. Some hobs I talked to said the Ghostmother might know of an ancient oath or something like that. So we're putting together a group to go to the market and find her." He grows curious as she continues, "A dormant Hedgeway? Who is it who mentioned it? Would they be able to take me to it? Doors are... kind of my thing." He looks back at Molly and grins, "Molly, alright." He shrugs at her words. "Well, there's only one way to find out."

"If you could get a photo of the door, that would be useful to see," Mingzhu asides to Eva, tucking her laptop away and sliding to her feet, then taking her half-finished coffee to the kitchen to wash out the mug. "I've got a work call shortly, so I need to step out. Jacob, can you let me know whatever is agreed about the makeup of that troupe, please?"

Ian begins pouring himself something intensely caffeinated, slightly bitter, and very creamy. "Feels wrong that I don't know the answer to that, but off the top of my head, I don't, sorry Jacob." Milk froths messily in a little cup, then he dumps it all into his coffee mug and grabs a rag to clean it up. Youtube videos: they're very educational. "Bye Mingzhu, have fun at work!" he calls after her.

Jacob nods towards Eva, "Excellent. I'll go with you." When Mingzhu takes her leave, he smiles at her, "I'll see you later." He looks back at the others. "I ought to be going, as well. I just wanted to share that information with people, and see about getting a group together. Ian, let me know if you stumble across anyone particularly good with hobs. If not, I can do my best."

"I will," Ian says seriously, and wanders back out with the coffee cup held close, fingers clicking on the ceramic. "Slip might know someone too, if you see her. Just keep looking around. But I'll keep an eye out." He heads towards an unoccupied couch and seats himself, spreading his wings out behind it, out of the way.

Molly raises a hand, waves two fingers as Mingzhu walks out, gaze tracking the Telluric's departure for a few seconds longer before she refocuses on the room around her. She shifts, leans her weight on a hand behind herself, talons splayed out. "Yeah, just say something if you need any extra... militia or whatever," she volunteers, before digging back inside her pocket for her phone, carefully scrolling through it with her trimmed claws. "Hopefully you just need thinking power and not muscle, though."

Eva smiles at Jacob's offer. "Thank you." She tilts her head as he excuses himself, smiling again. "Well, then I shall see you tomorrow. Be well." She glances back towards the other two, grinning a bit at Molly's offer. "Both can be quite useful, depending on the situation. Better together, though." Ian is offered a warm nod, even as she finally settles back on the couch a bit, setting the pencil case to one side and opening the sketchbook, carefully leafing through pages.

Jacob nods to Ian, "I'll talk to her. I'll let you know when we head in." As omlly speads, he looks back at her. "It might be good to have some muscle, to be honest. The Hedge is unpredictable at best." Then, to Eva, "Tomorrow." He finishes off his lemonade, depositing the glass in the dishwasher, then waves and heads out.