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Walk through the passage under City Hall, take a left down a side hallway and knock on the door marked Private with the knock that Buidhe taught every Autumn upon Oathing in. Open the door and step into the Hollow.
The Autumn Hollow goes through all of the seasons normally, a small and strange little village. There are small cottages made by the Court members, and every Autumn can claim a cottage if they like. A few are larger, where motleys have merged their cottages together to make slightly larger spaces for themselves. There's a Ritual Hall shaped like a longhouse in the center of the Hollow, and some of the Autumns sleep there until they claim their own space.
It is in the Ritual Hall where a strange old phone carved of bone hangs on the wall.
Tonight, the Witch of the Bitter Wind is working on cleaning the Ritual Hall. Alexis, a short woman wearing a heavy plum dress and a pair of black leather gloves as well as a top hat embroidered with a thousand tiny silver skulls, sits in a wooden chair, cleaning a pile of briarwolf bones and talons. She has a little pot of some sort of ointment and is rubbing the bones with a cloth, humming to herself. It's weird hearing someone make VNV Nation's 'Illusion' kind of sound like a cheerful working song, but that's what she's doing.
Mearcstapa arrives dressed as a Mearcstapa usually does, a bit of a smile on his face. "Care for some help with this?" There's something between a nod in greeting and a bow; it's polite regardless of which you classify it as, and he moves to join her.
"I'm always happy for help with cleaning up these old bones," Alexis answers, flashing a bright smile up to Mearcstapa. She produces another cleaning rag from within her pockets, scoots the pot of ointment closer to him, and shifts the pile of bones so he can easily reach them. There's at least an entire briarwolf here, and two skulls, each of them looks to have been converted into a sort of a hat. A hood? A ritual sort of something. "Have a seat. I've heard of you, but we haven't met yet. I'm Alexis Sobel, and you have a unique look about you, Mearcstapa."
Her smile crinkles her cheeks, which causes the inked words sliding across her face to crumple as if someone was balling up newsprint.
"Oh dear. I'm afraid to ask what you've heard, because there's a risk of it being a woefully mixed bag." He pauses to reach into his bag, pulling out the first aid kit and putting on a pair of latex gloves before he gets to work. "Though I really ought to have checked in before, given I'm one of your Twilit Pages."
Laughter from Alexis, as she continues to carefully grease the old skull with its leather drape at the back. There's love in the way the Elemental looks after these artifacts. She seems to be fondling the bones, almost, despite the leather gloves. "If I told you, then you wouldn't worry about it, and your worrying about it will cause you to try harder. Fear makes a good teacher in many situations." Her smile goes back to its usual low-key present status. "You should have, but now you're here, and can fill me in on what you've learned since you came here from Chicago."
"Ah. I'm actually here to report and to ask you questions, but if you want more of a general rundown on what I've learned, I've been acquainting myself with the local caucus of vampires, and teasing information out of them, as well as beginning to settle myself among the mortal population. I have dipped my toe into local social dynamics among those not Lost, at the Museum of Art protests recently, which I helped steer away from becoming a riot. With a lot of help, of course. "
He begins to apply the ointment to some of the talons, working slowly and carefully, with the same attention he'd give to dismantling a lock and removing the pins and springs from inside, very detail-oriented.
"And I suppose I have also learned about myself, and what I'm looking for out of my life, some."
"Both is good," Alexis assures Mearcstapa, working the ointment into the cracks of the briarwolf's teeth with careful fingers. "I saw those protests on Action News," she agrees, as a flash of LOREM IPSUM in headline font slides across her cheek, disappearing into her hairline. "Of course. One can't do that sort of thing entirely on one's own."
A little nod of her head. "Have you, then?" It's a prompting thing.
"Well. Some. Right now, I'm really...examining my need for transparency in relationships, in general, trying to work out what's safe for me. But that's...it's not really important, not the sort of thing I should be seeking your advice on." There's a ton of sheepishness there, as his freckles shift toward the red slowly.
She gestures expansively with one hand. "I suppose not, if you think you shouldn't. But. That's entirely up to you," Alexis laughs, turning the skull in her hands and examining it with a very critical eye. "Transparency in relationships. That can be tough, with us. But ... what can I help you with?"
"Have you listened to the radio lately?" He's looking at what he's working on, not at her, making sure the talon is perfectly polished before moving on to the next.
"I listen to the radio a lot," Alexis answers mildly. "But I have a feeling you're about to bring up something very specific on the radio." Both of her eyebrows arch up, and a series of Morse code dots and dashes slide along her jawline.
"Encoded messages on Radio Free Fae, very recently?" He glances side-long in time to see the Morse. (Is it worth rolling to decode?)
The message sliding across Alexis' face reads the right to dream is the right to die, which would tend to imply that, before she even opens her mouth, she has heard these broadcasts. "Mmmhmm," the Witch answers, and her cheeriness fades. "Someone's been up to absolutely no good. What do you make of it?"
"Someone's been up to no good. I was part of a meeting with Ari shortly after the message went out, and was assigned the task of looking into the logistics of how the signal could be hijacked. Which is why I'm here to report and ask questions." He wrinkles his nose, his freckles normalize and then move a little past 50/50 to more green. "I figured if anyone would be able to help me work out how someone would even begin to attempt a man-in-the-middle attack on a token, you'd be it."
Her lips press together, and Alexis sets down the skull on the table next to her. "Well." She picks up a femur, and daubs up a bit more ointment, rubbing it along the length of the bone. "You are in luck. I used to date a DJ when I lived in Nashville. Long time ago, and DJs are sworn to silence, they can't tell anyone except the Crown that they even are DJs, but... "
"... I was nosier than she was good at keeping secrets, and she left the broadcast Token in our apartment while I was sleeping." A little wince. "I was twenty, and not very respectful. Anyway." She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Here's the thing: I don't think you can."
There's a flicker of red that runs across his freckles, before he returns to green. "What were you able to figure out about how the Token worked?" His eyes squint slightly as he continues to polish talons, trying to work out what possibilities this leaves.
A little roll of her shoulders, and she turns the femur in her hand. "It's fucking faerie magic, is what it is," Alexis answers drily, examining one joint end of the bone. "Which leaves us with not a lot of options. Something about the token disguises the voice, and it doesn't so much broadcast as simply arrive at the activated radios listened to by Lost. Which -- no -- doesn't make any sense, but see my first statement." A heavy sigh. "That doesn't leave us a lot of options. We aren't the only city on the planet, but."
"Would another DJ token from another city work on our radios? Do you think someone with sufficient familiarity could make another attuned token for our city?" He traces the inside curve of the talon thoughtfully. "Because Occam's razor is shaving some very interesting patterns here."
Her head shakes slightly. "That I don't know. I don't know if they're attuned to the city, I don't know if ... " Alexis frowns a little, and newsprint type skitters across her nose, and she sits still for a moment, thinking. "They may just be generic tokens and based on proximity, for all we know."
"What do you see the razor cutting, Mearcstapa?"
"We don't know that there is another city that has lost such a token. We don't know that anyone other than a DJ has gotten their hand on such a token." He sets the talon down, humming softly. "The other question I suppose I have is a matter of potency. If the second one cutting in after the first was stronger, breaking into the first DJ's broadcast like that."
Alexis sets down the thighbone, and turns her dark eyes to Mearcstapa in silence. "What do you think?" Possibly she has the answer, but she's asking him first.
He takes a deep breath. "I think someone familiar with the token would be significantly more likely to have the capacity to 'butt in'. It might have been...a struggle, over control of the 'signal'. Which means, to borrow a trope from horror movies, the call is coming from inside the house, most likely."
Her ink-dark eyes close for a moment and open again. "That's what I'm afraid of, too," Alexis answers quietly; she picks up another bone. "Now the question is, Twilit Page Mearcstapa, what do you plan to do about it?" The rib bone in her hands is carefully attended.
"Nothing alone, nothing immediate, and nothing stupid. There's someone coordinating efforts and investigations who I'll be reporting to, so the information we've discussed gets to the proper hands. This is already a situation that's on the verge of a clusterfuck, please pardon my language, and I don't want to go rogue in the middle of it." He smiles slightly. "If you have specific directives, though...?"
She takes a deep breath in. "Nothing you haven't already said. Don't do anything stupid, don't do anything alone, don't rush off into a fight. If this is anyone who's been here long enough to fit the description we've been discussing, they are, like the Wu-Tang Clan, nothing to fuck with. And running off half-cocked might give them the opportunity to get the fuck out of Dodge, taking the token with them." Rubbing the rib bone with ointment, Alexis holds it up to the light, consideringly. "Follow Winter's directions so long as they make sense. If they ever stop making sense, follow what your fear tells you. And keep me in the loop. You don't have to come seek me out, leaving a note would be lovely."
"And don't let this consume you. Make sure you take a breath or three."
"Of course. This is hardly the only matter on my plate." He lets out a humorless laugh, then pauses. "I...am curious about something, though, that isn't exactly within the purview of Winter drama."
"Don't let work consume you," Alexis corrects, pointing the bone toward but not at Mearcstapa. "What is it?"
His freckles redden slightly, and he acknowledges the order with a nod. "Is there a reason the court doesn't currently have a Scrivener? I served as the assistant to one in Chicago, and had hoped to slot myself into the Freehold here in a similar way, but it's hard to assist an empty chair."
"No one's stepped up since the last one left," Alexis offers with a wry twist of her lips and a subtle roll of her shoulders. "People die, people move on, and if no one steps up, then we're left with an empty spot. It's -- unfortunate, because I'd much prefer to keep that sort of thing in-house for us... "
"I...would like to know what it would be necessary for me to work on, in order to fill the position." Beat. "Beside my work-life balance."
Her laughter is sharp and bright when Mearcstapa first comments on work-life balance. "I would say, from what little I have been able to pick up on from our conversations and the reports I have gotten," Alexis answers, "That you might work on your connection to our court, spend a little time getting acquainted with the local Goblin markets, and make sure that you're ready and able to step up with regards to the legal aspects of the job. I'm sure you had plenty of contacts in Chicago -- go do some glad-handing here and find the bureaucrats who can grease the squeaky wheels, as it were."
He nods thoughtfully. "I can definitely do that. Ask some of my friends in the police force for introductions to those who'd be worth knowing." It's clear he's already piecing together the puzzle. "Would the proper Done Thing be to let you know when I feel ready to take on the job, as someone who's currently a Twilit Page, or to go to Buidhe and offer myself up for the job?"
A sidelong flash of a smile, there, and she trades one bone for another, continuing her work. "You come talk to me. Good question. Generally speaking, you leave Buidhe alone to be an owl nine months out of the year, so he can deal with being a person for three of them."
"Understood. I'd like for our court to have someone in the role as soon as possible." He grabs a bone this time, perhaps one of the ribs, and goes back to actively polishing. "It also sort of surprises me that for a court as invested in social ties as Spring is, they don't have anything of the sort. You'd think they'd be the best at establishing the necessary connections."
"You would think," Alexis answers, rolling their shoulders. "Perhaps you could encourage one of your friends along that direction, hmm? I've thought that, but ... " She lets her voice trail off, and smiles primly. "It's not my business, and once you get far enough up the ladder, people tend to think you should pay attention to your own court more than anything."
Mearcstapa lets out a soft huff. "Has someone gotten snappy with you about that sort of thing? We're a Freehold, not a Hold of United Courts or something. Who's getting nasty about that?"
Another burst of laughter from Alexis. "Oh, it's just a sort of attitude that people get when you're at my level in Courts. 'Mind your own business, we're doing fine over here.' It's not that I don't understand, to a certain extent, why Spring doesn't necessarily want Autumn up its ass. We don't exactly have the same philosophy, do we?" Alexis doesn't seem to be bothered too much about it, whatever the truth of it is, whether she's playing it off for the younger Autumn or truly unconcerned.
"No, but. We're only as secure as our weakest link." He frowns. "You've given me a lot to think about, Alexis. Thank you for everything."
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