Seaside

[quillpleasant]

Fortress Bay

One of the weirdest parts about having such a good sense of smell is how odors that would simply be foul to humans are instead very interesting. There's layers to them, a physicality that brings far more information than simply 'bad' or 'good'. And so Lenny is quite unbothered by the puddles of green algae littering the beach. It's actually a nice break from the gasoline and bleach of the city.

They cut a rather strange figure, walking barefoot through the sand. Dressed in a shabby black suit coat, with a bird's nest of dark hair chased through with white, Lenny doesn't exactly look like the heroic type. Their yellow eyes and clawlike fingernails might actually come off as a little sinister. But they have heard that there's need of help here, and at the worst the fisherfolk will probably offer some food and a roof while they're looking into... whatever's going on here.

Burying their hands in their jacket pockets, Lenny cuts away from the beach, heading into town. Sharp eyes glance around, trying to figure out if there's someone they can ask for directions. Some high society lady in a carriage and a guy with a dog. Nothing too out of the ordinary on first glance.

[Rebonack]

[Fortress Bay]

All these travelers have their own reasons for being here, don't they?

Their own justifications to be in this strange little town beset as it is by uncanny weather.

But we all know the real reason they're here.

A story is unfolding, the the stage needs to be set.

For the green haired man and his dog, they won't find any mayor. This isn't that sort of little town. They will, however, find a village elder tucked away in the village long-house with several other older towns people discussing what the portents in the sky could mean. When the dog and his man arrive the elder looks up, examining him with watery old eyes. "Peace, stranger. What tidings do you bring to these days of ill-weather?"

The woman traveling for business will find the print shop she sought, and a print shop it is without question. They're running a moveable type printing press and binding books by hand. They're a bit distant from the larger cities that tend to have a press, but the little shop here mostly prints single pages for the locals and does custom books for richer clients who desire something hand-made rather than churned out by some tree-devouring factory in Skyside. She'll be approached by a man in an apron cleaning his ink-stained hands on a rag. "I would bid you a good day, Miss Sahn, but the days of late have scarcely been good ones. I hope the strange weather doesn't change your mind."

As for the streets of the village, there isn't much activity. Every now and again a dollop of sludgy water the size of a sheep's head comes hurtling out of the sky and splats noisomely in the streets, spilling algal gunk everywhere. No one really wants to be caught out in something like that.

There is, however, another stranger heading into town. A simple tunic and leggings along with sturdy leather boots and flexable black gloves and a heavy cloak to keep out the weather and keep in the warmth. A wide brimmed hat, likewise, to shed rain. A well maintained iron shield hangs off a distinctly modern looking body pack along with the odds and ins of a traveler. Bouncing at his hip is a sheathed side-sword. And bouncing behind him is a tail that looks like it ought to belong to a leopard. Akin to the ears peeking out under the brim of his hat. Though maybe what stands out the most is the shiny chrome rifle with the polished wood stock he's carrying. The weapon has no barrel to speak of, just a lens like a dead black eye.

[quillpleasant]

Fortress Bay

Lenny's ears twitch as she catches sight of the mysterious stranger. Armed to the teeth, and clearly a well seasoned adventurer of some kind. The tail is intriguing too. This must be another person answering the summons for help, and by the looks of it, he's a good deal more prepared than Lenny is.

So maybe she can tag along, and partake in some of the rewards after he does the heavy lifting. Worth a shot. Shame is for those who know where their next meal is coming from.

Running a hand through her tangled hair in a futile attempt to neaten it, she waves and hurries over, sloshing through the algal muck that litters the street.

"Hey, cool guy with a cool hat! You here about the weather too? We could compare notes," she calls in greeting, her voice a little scratchy from disuse.

[Reinholdt]

[Fortress Bay]

Let it never be said that Leah doesn't get out of the house.

Lest she hear you and scratch you for it.

To be fair, the modestly dressed catgirl was called to this place. Not in the traditional sense of receiving a summons for help. Not even in the usual supernatural sense in which she was attracted to some unknown quality. Oh no, quite the opposite in fact. Something about this place utterly repulses her. Makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her tail fur get more poofy than usual. Leah could sense long before she got here that she would hate here. That something was wrong and unclean. The sensible action would be to stay away.

The stubborn one would be to come here in order to rectify the situation. To cleanse and purify the problem so that it'd stop bugging her. After all, if it could bother her in a whole city over, it's not going to stop until someone deals with it.

At the very least, the blue furred, pink eyed catgirl had the foresight to bring an umbrella as she approaches the village on foot. A particularly keen observer would note that even the rain that slipped under the protective covering did not seem to get Leah dirty. A little wet perhaps, but nothing like the stinking green smears that assail others. Noticing this probably draws ones attention to how she's not dirty in the slightest. Her shoes even seem devoid of mud or sand despite walking here and her dress is as immaculate as it is conservative.

Leah knows that if anyone knows anything about the weather in these parts, it would be the local sailors, whom she chooses to seek out first.

[Shadowcaller]

[Fortress Bay]

The woman traveling for business will find the print shop she sought, and a print shop it is without question. They're running a moveable type printing press and binding books by hand. They're a bit distant from the larger cities that tend to have a press, but the little shop here mostly prints single pages for the locals and does custom books for richer clients who desire something hand-made rather than churned out by some tree-devouring factory in Skyside. She'll be approached by a man in an apron cleaning his ink-stained hands on a rag. "I would bid you a good day, Miss Sahn, but the days of late have scarcely been good ones. I hope the strange weather doesn't change your mind."

As for the streets of the village, there isn't much activity. Every now and again a dollop of sludgy water the size of a sheep's head comes hurtling out of the sky and splats noisomely in the streets, spilling algal gunk everywhere. No one really wants to be caught out in something like that.

There is, however, another stranger heading into town. A simple tunic and leggings along with sturdy leather boots and flexable black gloves and a heavy cloak to keep out the weather and keep in the warmth. A wide brimmed hat, likewise, to shed rain. A well maintained iron shield hangs off a distinctly modern looking body pack along with the odds and ins of a traveler. Bouncing at his hip is a sheathed side-sword. And bouncing behind him is a tail that looks like it ought to belong to a leopard. Akin to the ears peeking out under the brim of his hat. Though maybe what stands out the most is the shiny chrome rifle with the polished wood stock he's carrying. The weapon has no barrel to speak of, just a lens like a dead black eye.

[Fortress Bay]

"I bid you a strange day then, sir." Lady Sahn replies with a small smile. "Since I'd be lying if I said it hadn't caught my eye. But judging by how few people are out and about it's not a common occurrence around here, is it?" The lady inquires as she glances out a nearby window or at the door if there are none in here.
"Any idea what's wrong?"

[Morty]

[Bird-Hunting]

"Special enough for me to take care with who I bless it with." Havsken turns their head so only one of their eyes is looking at Krayger. "It is not Exaltation, of course. I don't think I could survive granting Exaltation if I petitioned the Sun for it. But it has a fair share of my power. Most of it is the ability to change shape. Any other gifts you might receive will be minor."

[Rebonack]

[Fortress Bay]

Out in the streets, Lenny's approach doesn't go unnoticed. One of those feline ears swivel toward her almost immediately. After all, how many other people are skulking around the muck outside right now, let alone people wearing what is admittedly a really cool hat?

The drifter, was kneeling down near one of the pools, thinking. The smell is a strange one, certainly. There's something to it. Not really like the sea at all. Not that subtle stench of brackish water, salt, and mud. More like a stagnant pond. His trek had pulled him in this direction and after dodging a few 'raindrops' he had decided to turn into the nearby village.

That's what happens when you get lost looking for something else, see? You find someone who knows where you are and seek directions. No shame in that. And who knows, you might find someone else who needs help?

That looks to be what's happening today.

"Here because of the weather, yes. Less about it," the drifter says, rising to face Lenny. A mutant? Looks to be. A mirthful expression tugs at the edges of his mouth considering at he is the idea of trying to do something about the weather. "Are the villagers hoping someone can do something about-"

A distant whistling and a growing shadow are the warnings our heroes get of impending doom. The drifter hops aside just in time to avoid a direct hit from an over-sized blob of scummy water. That does little to protect him when it bursts, spraying him with slime. Thankfully he had the good sense of grabbing the hem of his cloak to ward off the worst of it.

"-this?" he finishes, shaking out his cloak by way of indication. "I can understand why, but I'm at a loss what a few drifters might be able to do about the weather."

Leah may have some trouble finding the sailors, at least initially. A steep set of stairs cut into the basalt leads down to the sheltered bay proper and like it's name suggests it's a veritable fortress. Piers have been erected in the water and small boats moored to them, but the slime-stained vessels don't seem terribly busy. There aren't really any sailors down here; they're all huddled in their homes against the uncanny weather. But there appears to be one exception. A grizzled man looks to be preparing his boat to set out while a woman on the docks nearby is pleading with him not to go.

"This is madness, Henry. The Thraon brothers set out into this accursed storm and vanished-"
"Willis and Dave are both drunkards and idiots. They were probably lost of their own accord."

Lady Sahn will, gazing out the window, get a good view of Lenny and the drifter getting splashed by an exploding 'raindrop' further down the village's one and only main road. Usually rain doesn't work that way.

"Not normally, no. The uncanny weather's got the sailors all nervous; you know how sailors are. There's probably nothing to it. Sometimes strange things happen. Why, just last year the sea lit up with ghostly blue light and it turned out it was just an unusual algal bloom. Given some time I'm sure the townsfolk will gather their courage and get back to work. Or the clouds may roll off just as quickly as they rolled in. It's probably nothing to worry about," the printer says. "Now then, I believe we have some business to discuss?"

[Keeper]

Port Valdez Cave

Well that's certainly an explanation.
"Um. How do you know that they're evil alternate versions of you if they're going on adventures and stuff? That sounds pretty not-evil to me."
Unless they're EVIL adventures. Like finding a legendary puppy to kick.

Bird Hunting

Krayger returns the expression. Not intentionally. He simply can't help himself.
"Why would you- give me this? I have no- loyalty to you. But you make me - what did Mist call- your Herald?" That is perhaps not the right word, but the intent is there. A blessed mortal, made perhaps a little less mortal. An extension of the god's power, but not necessarily their will.
"How much is- fair? You have made- yourself lesser?" The idea of having any sizeable amount of a god's power is a rather worrying thing even if its primary purpose is the "little" thing of becoming a bird. And somehow this being he's never met would sacrifice their power for his sake?
"This is about- Askeladd isn't it?"

[[brackets lover]]

[Fortress Bay]

"None, as of yet," the man replies, "We were sent on behalf of the Wizard's guild to conduct preliminary investigations. More specifically, the dog was sent. Since my superiors think I have nothing better to do than to look after an impudent hound, they bid me go and represent him." He pauses, growling for a second before continuing, "Before we begin, however, I would ask if you have any means by which to pay for our services. Not that we'll ask anything of you out of hand. I simply mean to clarify that we do not intend to work this case pro bono."

Jon, of course, has left the man's side upon smelling two strange individuals. The man sighs in response, keeping his focus on the elders. Jon, however, sprints in pursuit of Lenny and the drifter. He trots up between them, chasing his tail for a second before putting his attention solely on Lenny. "Whine (hi)"

[Rebonack]

[Fortress Bay]

The elder seems...

Incredulous.

At the suggestion that the dog is, in fact, the one to be doing the work here. What exactly would a dog do?

None the less, the elder is forced to admit, "We're a small fishing village, we have little in the way to offer for payment. We could scrounge together some money. Or maybe you wizard types would be more interested in some of the baubles and trinkets that have been found in the lava tubes over the years?"

They might have magical artifacts!

That counts as payment, right?

[Shadowcaller]

[Fortress Bay]

Her eyebrows are certainly raised at the rain's behavior. That seemed more than just sailor's tales.
"This seems more dangerous than algae blooming, and that can be pretty disastrous on its own." At least if you drank or swam in the water. "Since considering that I've expressed interest in purchasing your establishment, it seems to be in my interests that it still stands after we've completed the transaction. The nexus can be fickle after all. No doubt you've heard of how strange events like this can cause entire villages, if not towns, to disappear." She certainly had.

[Rebonack]

[Fortress Bay]

The printer balks at that suggestion!

Balks!

"Surely not! A bit of strange rain couldn't possibly be a threat to the whole village," he replies, utterly incredulous.

As if in response, there's a rumble from the sky overhead, the clouds steadily growing a darker shade of sickly green.

Not a good sign, certainly.

"Well, maybe. But what could be done about the weather? It isn't as if someone could just go up there and shoo the clouds away."

Clearly he hasn't ever met a pegasus pony before.

[Shadowcaller]

[Fortress Bay]

"Don't say that. Strange situations has a way of drawing equally strange people out." Perhaps even cloud kicking pony's.
"But until the situation has been resolved you understand that it would be quite the risk to make a purchase, no? Considering that the situation seems to worsen as we speak." Lady Sahn pauses for a moment, considering.

"In fact, has someone taken it upon themselves to hire people to deal with this problem? Since I feel we could make that part of our deal. If nothing else then at least to ensure that the weather doesn't chase our customers away."

[Morty]

[Bird Hunting]

"Hah. No, do not fear. This blessing doesn't diminish me the way Exaltation would. It's a precious gift, but still a gift." Something like a laugh issues from the raven-god. "As I said, I am glad he's alive. But mortals who truck with Exalted are exposed to the trouble that follows them. I want to help, if I can."

[Keeper]

Bird Hunting

"He would be- glad to have- a friend from- his home. I think.
It sounds like- you're saying- my luck will- get even worse? Ugh." The raven sighs to the larger, divine raven.
He perks up though, looking up at the god with a tilted expression.
"And how are- you talking like- that?"
Naturally, that's because Havsken is speaking magically while Krayger is actually speaking with his raven's voice. It's much harder.

[quillpleasant]

► SHOW SPOILER

[Fortress Bay]

Out in the streets, Lenny's approach doesn't go unnoticed. One of those feline ears swivel toward her almost immediately. After all, how many other people are skulking around the muck outside right now, let alone people wearing what is admittedly a really cool hat?

The drifter, was kneeling down near one of the pools, thinking. The smell is a strange one, certainly. There's something to it. Not really like the sea at all. Not that subtle stench of brackish water, salt, and mud. More like a stagnant pond. His trek had pulled him in this direction and after dodging a few 'raindrops' he had decided to turn into the nearby village.

That's what happens when you get lost looking for something else, see? You find someone who knows where you are and seek directions. No shame in that. And who knows, you might find someone else who needs help?

That looks to be what's happening today.

"Here because of the weather, yes. Less about it," the drifter says, rising to face Lenny. A mutant? Looks to be. A mirthful expression tugs at the edges of his mouth considering at he is the idea of trying to do something about the weather. "Are the villagers hoping someone can do something about-"

A distant whistling and a growing shadow are the warnings our heroes get of impending doom. The drifter hops aside just in time to avoid a direct hit from an over-sized blob of scummy water. That does little to protect him when it bursts, spraying him with slime. Thankfully he had the good sense of grabbing the hem of his cloak to ward off the worst of it.

"-this?" he finishes, shaking out his cloak by way of indication. "I can understand why, but I'm at a loss what a few drifters might be able to do about the weather."

► SHOW SPOILER

[Fortress Bay]
Jon, of course, has left the man's side upon smelling two strange individuals. The man sighs in response, keeping his focus on the elders. Jon, however, sprints in pursuit of Lenny and the drifter. He trots up between them, chasing his tail for a second before putting his attention solely on Lenny. "Whine (hi)"

Fortress Bay

Lenny seems utterly unperturbed about the falling slime. He's been living in the wilderness for months, mainly eating raw birds and garbage. A little algal scum isn't going to bother him that much. He pokes at the blobby stuff gingerly with a toe.

This drifter seems a little incongruous here- as much as anything can be in the Nexus. If he's truly just a random wanderer, then his excessive amount of weaponry is a little suspect. Maybe a mercenary of some kind? Lenny sniffs, trying to gain any information from his scent.

"Yea, that's what I hear. And you know, you'd be surprised. Weather like this isn't natural. I'd be willing to bet there's a cause- some sort of curse, or maybe an evil magician. And I've gotten quite good at dealing with the latter." He grins, exposing abnormally long canine teeth.

"You look pretty handy in a fight yourself, assuming you know how to use all those. What are you- oh hi doggy!" Lenny has just noticed Jon, and his dark eye brighten at the friendly hound. In an instant he's dropped to all fours, ignoring the muddy street squelching between his fingers.

He sniffs, body wiggling in a nonthreatening manner, before responding in his own doglike whine. ("Hello. I'm not dangerous. We can be friends!")

[Rebonack]

[Fortress Bay]

"Thus far the village has been distant enough that we've been spared the oddest," the printer replies to Lady Sahn. "But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that hasn't lasted forever. The village elders put out a request to aid to the cities. Those bulletins usually draw the stranger sorts, or so I've been told."

This he speaks as he gazes out the window toward the barefoot person in a shabby suit posturing at a dog and the drifter in a weather beaten burnoose.

"Not to be presumptuous, miss, but what would you hope to do about the weather? Typically weather is something folk need to endure and little more."

Speaking of oddities in the street, there are definitely some interesting smells going on for Lenny and Jon to notice.

First?

Aside from the obvious algal overtones the drop of 'rain' that just landed nearby has a faint whiff of frog to it.

Which is odd.

As for the drifter, he doesn't quite smell like a human. Or a cat. Or really a mixture of both. But whatever it is that he smells like there's an odd whiff of ozone to him that's unmistakable. A heavy, damp sort of smell. Like the smell of the air right before a lightning storm. Also his boots smell neat! They're boots that have mucked their way through all sorts of interesting things.

"A magician, huh?" the drifter replies, doing his best not to look too amused as the talk of evil wizards. He's met two of those since he started his travels here, but the idea still tickles him to no end. "I know how to use everything I carry. Maybe not the best, out there, but I can hold off a pack of hyena-kin snapping at your heels if I need to. Doubt we'll meet any here. Hope not. The smell is something of an experience."

But then DOG!

And lots of dog gesturing and posturing and wagging and...

Things.

"Um..."

At least the drifter's tail isn't poofing up at the sight of all these dogs.

[Reinholdt]

[Fortress Bay]

"Excuse me, good sir and madam," Leah says after gingerly navigating the steep set of wet stairs. Even on the best of days that path seems exceptionally hazardous. It was certainly uncomfortable traversing.

Probably not as bad as traversing the ocean in this weather though. Sailors, in Leah's mind, are madmen and women. Whyever would anyone deign to leave the safety of solid earth beneath one's feet? The fish? Well... the fish is actually a pretty good reason, but there are river fish so it's not a great reason. No. No, people belonged on solid ground! And away from water.

"This weather is absolutely atrocious. When did it start? Did someone forget to sacrifice a virgin or something?" Leah gives a light, forced laugh at her own joke. Her attempt to connect with the well known dirtiness of the profession. But even this much causes her to blush lightly.

[Shadowcaller]

[Fortress Bay]

"The weather itself? Probably not much. The consequences of it? A lot more. This is after all, by your own admission, not typical weather so the typical means of enduring it are probably not going to be viable. I'm looking to hire people to help the town endure whatever comes out of those clouds."

Her gaze goes to the same dog and drifter. She had been right, strange weather really brought out strange people.

"And the sooner I hire them the less damage is going to be done I think. So while I hate to rush a deal it seems like we've been put under pressure to finish this deal. Perhaps we can agree on the final sum after all my expenditures have been accounted for? Does that sound fair?"

[Rebonack]

[Fortress Bay]

Leah manages to catch the attention of the fisherman and wife without too much trouble. Her question is a reasonable one, surely. And her joke is...

Not...

Great.

It gets a puzzled look from the woman and a snort of a laugh from a man.

"So folk are responding to the summons the elders sent out, are they?" Henry says, looking Leah up and down. Not any sort of lurid staring, no. More trying to gauge how a cat eared woman is going to help with the weather. "It's a waste of time. You can't solve the weather with a sword. We just need to knuckle under and get the work done."

"It was three days ago, it just rolled in," Harriet says, actually answering the question. "And the children have been complaining of nightmares ever since it started. Nightmares of frogs."

How exactly would frogs be nightmare material?

Lady Sahn's proposal is met with some beard chewing. "That's... well, that's reasonable I suppose. The town wouldn't run very well if we're all neck deep in slime. I'm still not sure what can even be done about the weather, but I'll assume you know what you're doing."

He just makes books!

It isn't his job to know how uncanny weather works.

[[brackets lover]]

[Fortress Bay]

The man strokes his beard, beaming curiously, "Sounds promising enough. We'll work out the finer details at the conclusion of this tale. Now then, what can you tell me of the weather cycle prior to its current state? Every last detail, down to the very shape of the clouds, would aid us."

----------

Jon's tail wags as Lenny gets down to greet him. ("Yes! Be friends!") he responds, tilting his head after, ("Are two-person, right? Know other two-people speak dog and human.") He pauses, sniffing upwards. ("Will help look for weather cause?")

[Reinholdt]

[Fortress Bay]

"Do I look like I have a sword?" Leah asks. Not only does she not look like she has a sword, but she also definitely does not have a sword for all factual purposes. The man still has a point admittedly. Rachel and Sarah would have a much better chance at handling weather related phenomenon than Leah does.

Frogs are incredibly gross and easy to imagine as nightmare material. Leah shudders at the mere thought of them. "All of the children or just some of them?" If it's just a few, they may be closer to the epicenter of the cause.

Also frogs suggest a decidedly different area than the ocean. Usually a creek or something. "Is there a river that runs into the ocean near here?" Some form of estuary.

[Morty]

[Bird Hunting]

"Luck? Best not to talk about luck. Make your own luck, rather. And I can help you." Havsken laughs again. "A beak isn't made to form words. You need to focus more on your thoughts and less on your physical sounds."

[Keeper]

Bird Hunting

Krayger sits there on the branch for a bit, eyes closed. After a minute he speaks more clearly.
"Does that work better?" he asks. His voice sounds much more like himself, which is in a way also funny, coming out of the mouth of an otherwise mostly normal bird.
"...and is there anything else that I need to know for proper...bird-ing? Ugh." This really is a situation he's gotten himself into isn't it? Asking a god to give him lessons on how to do otherwise normal things like they're his father.

[Shadowcaller]

[Fortress Bay]

Lady Sahn's proposal is met with some beard chewing. "That's... well, that's reasonable I suppose. The town wouldn't run very well if we're all neck deep in slime. I'm still not sure what can even be done about the weather, but I'll assume you know what you're doing."

He just makes books!

It isn't his job to know how uncanny weather works.

[Fortress Bay]

"It wouldn't be the first time I hired people to deal with strange situations. But one question then, where can I find these elders? Considering that they're offering their own reward." The lady inquires.

[Ironsmith]

Butterfly Bay

Henry sits idly in his chair, gently kicking his feet in that slightly childish way he has sometimes. But he can't help that he got the chair sized for CB.
He waits a good five minutes for Owena to finish getting rid of the teeth marks before he pipes up.
"You know, despite the almost-mauling, I could think of much worse ways to spend an end-of-Thanksmas night than sitting by the fire with you." he tells Owena quietly, his eye-lights flicking back to the package she mostly left forgotten behind her.

[Butterfly Bay]

Owena smirks and gives Henry a playful boop on the snoot. "That almost sounded like flattery." She teases, visibly fighting back a giggle.

...

"...But... really. Yeah." She adds, leaning in a little against her boyfriend. "...This is really nice."

...

She knows she promised she'd report the ghost-fish-thing, and she's still going to, but... she can spare thirty seconds to cuddle up with her boyfriend properly, right?

Right.

The present, meanwhile, still sits where it is, unopened. Absum only knows if Owena's actually thought about it that much.

Magtok accepts the (tangelo? mandarin orange? tangerine?) small orange citrus fruit he can't quite identify, tosses it into the air with a raised eyebrow, his thumb digging into its skin when he catches the itty-bitty little thing on its way down.

"Understandable. I can't pretend I don't look incredibly suspicious at all times," the supervillain shrugs off the apology, sidling past Euphoria and dropping off the peel of that fruit in the nearest garbage can as he moves for the door.

"Oh, if you happen to see Ilpholin, tell her I said hi. She has a thing for murdering demons, and if you act like you know me, It might confuse and upset her long enough to escape with your lives. Or it could give you an opening to kill her before she kills you, whichever," The cyborg remarks on his way out. He doesn't sound like either outcome will make much of a difference to him. Really, there's no positive outcome to any of this devil business, and he's been burned by that fire too many times to stick his hand in and risk feeling any sort of way for any of the people involved. If they live, great. If they die, oh well. Same goes for Ilpholin. You can't let yourself get emotionally invested in anyone committed to a roaring rampage of revenge, or their potential victims. Better to conserve your energy and empathy for people who will still be here tomorrow.

[Butterfly Bay - Great Writers Steal]

Kate winces at the mention of Ilpholin... but she has to admit, that's probably not actually terrible advice. At the very least it's likely to be more effective than "oh no please don't kill me". She's pretty sure Ilpholin won't listen to that.

...And speaking of begging for her life...

"...I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Euphoria gives a small, pointed nod. They've got a lot to talk about.

[Keeper]

Butterfly Bay

Henry makes no attempt to hide how much he enjoys Owena giving him nose-boops and physical attention. He's a very cuddly shark. Comes with being an ex-half-hobbit.

"Well, I'd like you to have this, Owena. Me and my sisters made it for you. Happy Thanksmas." Henry smiles, looking immensely proud of himself.
Maybe proud of himself enough for him to insist she open it.

[Ironsmith]

[Butterfly Bay]

Owena's expression fades just a little as her attention is drawn back to the present. He probably is going to insist she open it, isn't he? And by that point she'll have been just a bit rude. No sense in marring the moment any further.

"...Wait here just a minute." Owena says quietly, standing up. She begins picking her way across the room, gingerly stepping around the chair and heading toward the stairs. It takes her longer to get there than it seems like it should; her pace is slow and careful, like she's worried she'll step on a floorboard and wake her uncle or boss (despite the fact that both of them are almost certainly out right now).

And with as still as the house is, her footsteps can be heard upstairs, just as quiet and deliberate but impossible to miss with nothing else happening to distract from them.

Then, the sound of a heavy lid being lifted, with an audible thunk of shifting weight, and then another thunk of it closing again.

Footsteps back to the stairs.

A deep, heavy sigh.

And then she returns, coming back down the stairs holding a large, flat box, wrapped up in a simple red bow.

"...I, um... got you something, too." Owena says with a small smile.

[Keeper]

Butterfly Bay

Henry can’t help but blink. Does Owena have a sarcophagus up there or something?
…she wouldn’t actually have one, would she? That’s a dumb vampire stereotype.

”…is something wrong, Owena? You seem…less happy than most people are when they get a Thanksmas present.” She almost looked like his present killed the mood. He didn’t do something wrong, did he?

[Ironsmith]

[Butterfly Bay]

"...That obvious, huh?" Owena gives Henry an apologetic smile. "It's not you, I promise. It's... more of a cultural thing. Personal, even, I guess." Her thumbs flick over the edge of the present, idly picking at the wrapping. "...My family celebrates Thanksmas a little differently from the rest of the Nexus. The mood's a bit more... you know. Serious." She runs her nail along the paper, leaving a tiny, narrow furrow where it'll tear more easily if she gives it a tug.

"...And the, um, context of giving a present is kind of different." She continues. "And so are the expectations. It's all a bit nerve-racking for a first time." Owena looks up at Henry and curls her fingers around the edge of the present. "...Why don't we go together? So we're both just a little distracted. Okay?"

If she gets the assent, she'll ready herself to open her present. "...On three. One, two..."

► Owenas Present To Henry

The box contains a silk shirt, in Henry's size, with puffy sleeves and a fancy ruffled pattern around the neckline and wrists. There's still a tag attached to it, indicating three things; that it was a product of Talman's Tailory, that it was made from 100% ethically sourced Phase Spider silk, and that it should be hand washed in cold water with light detergent.