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They talked briefly at the Freehold Hollow about, you know, talking about whether or not they shared a Keeper. And so, Ziv has ordered sushi (their favorite -- they've ordered some tempura items to be Hanukkah-appropriate, too) and it has just arrived, so they've tucked it into the fridge to wait for her to arrive. The tea kettle is heating up, the pretty little tea set that they bought for proper tea is sitting out on the dining room table, and the Emotional Support Rabbi has been called and asked to come, too.
Ziv and Eko's house is a little cookie-cutter affordable house in Northeast, with a postage stamp of lawn and a little front porch with two rocking chairs on it. The electric menorah is lit in the window, and the menorah itself sits next to the tea set, with seven candles plus the shamash. Ziv is wearing comfy soft knit cotton house pants and a loose, comfortable shirt that matches, along with a pair of comfy blue socks with dreidels on them. It's too cold for Daisy Dukes and a pilfered tank top, alas, so they choose to look Super Comfy instead.
When Violette arrives it's in the back of an SUV that pulls up to the curb and lets her out. She steps out of the vehicle and heads toward the front door, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled over her head. The leather jacket that's on over the hoodie is familiar. Jeans and boots complete the ensemble. Other than the familiar aesthetic she doesn't look much like the Violette that Ziv has met before, mostly because her Mask is strengthened. That doesn't mean she might not be familiar, though. Over the past decade she's had plenty of media attention, both for her music career and her disappearance. That might be the reason for the hood.
She leaves the door open behind her, and a moment later the vehicle's driver gets out and comes around to close it, then goes to get back in the car and drive away. When she gets to the door she lifts a hand and knocks on it, about the same time her driver is heading off to park a couple of blocks away.
Ziv looks out the window to check on who's present outside, and then opens the door, offering a little lopsided smile. "I didn't know it was you," they laugh, a little wryly. Surely she gets that an awful lot.
"Come on inside. There's a hook right there for your coat, and a mat for your shoes. My primary partner is Japanese, we're a shoes-off house. If you need house slippers, I can get you a pair." Because of course they can. "The sushi is already here and in the fridge. Aaron should be here in a bit. He's a Mage, but -- he knows a lot about us. Both of his partners are Lost, and he's the Rabbi to our supernatural minyan."
Violette strikes a little bit of a pose at the response her appearance gets. One that says 'it's me!' Following that she steps inside, slips her leather jacket off but not the hoodie, and hangs the jacket up on a hook. She does pull the hood down, since once she's inside she doesn't have the same need to hide.
She does kind of fill up the room with her presence, though. It's a little hard to look away from her, whether it's purely an aesthetic attraction, something less tangible than that, or something more than that. It sure explains why she tends to hide herself when out in public.
Her hands start moving through some rapid signs, not joined with the whispering since she knows that Ziv can understands the signs alone. "Shoes off keeps things cleaner anyway. I get it. My house growing up wasn't shoes off, but once I started doing it I could not go back." She leans down to unlace her boots, which takes a few moments, and then she pulls them off. Somehow she makes it look like a show. Like people might pay just to watch her take her shoes off, and not just foot fetishists. It's not that she's trying to, that's just how it is.
"I love sushi, but I don't know much about mages," she signs, once her hands are free again.
They keep themself facing toward Violette -- they know she's going to use sign -- and know their own house well enough to be able to back into the kitchen without tripping on anything. It's a tidy little house, not overly full of stuff, but there's a big wrought-iron hamsa hanging on the wall. (They are symbols of protection, after all.) They grab the electric kettle as it clicks itself to off, pour the boiling water into the teapot, and then settle down at the table. "I figure we'll wait until Aaron is here to eat, if you don't mind."
A pause. "Well, they have their own groups and their own priorities, but really they're just people." Ziv answers in English and ASL. "Aaron is a really great person, very smart and thoughtful. He just also can punch through solid steel and turn his hands into magical glow-lights and text message with his brain."
Violette moves after Ziv toward the kitchen, tredding in feet wrapped in extremely fuzzy socks covered with dancing potatoes. The rest of her outfit is at least relatively serious, but her socks not so much. "I don't mind. It's your house, your rules," she signs in answer, before reaching for a chair at the table and pulling it out to seat herself. "That seems polite anyway," she adds.
"That doesn't really surprise me, either. That they're ultimately just people. You know, ultimately I don't know much about rabbis either. I guess it's..." she realizes she doesn't know the sign for this, and whispers aloud, "Hanukkah." Then back to signing. "Isn't it?" This comes with a glance toward the menorah. "I'm pretty sure most of what I know about Jewish people is really wrong."
"Well, if you were hungry, we could eat now. I have microwaveable edamame to go with the meal," explains Ziv, padding back into the kitchen and putting the electric kettle back on its stand. They keep turned so they can see her signing, and smile a little bit. "Yeah, I think it's generally more polite," they agree. "I'm glad you agree."
They return to their chair and tuck a foot under themself. "Hanukkah," they explain, bringing their hands up in front of themself, making the number 4 with each hand, thumbs in, palms out, in front of their chest, and then then bringing both hands out to their sides. "It is Hanukkah. And probably! But that's okay. Learning is a thing that we all do. We'll light the candles once he gets here, too."(edited)
Violette repeats the sign to help commit it to memory, nods with the gesture, and then lets the conversation continue. "What kind of tea are you making?" she asks. "And, yes, learning about other people and their views and perspectives is wonderful. It was one of the best aspects of my music career, in addition to just being able to perform, which I loved. I got to meet people, learn about their cultures, experience things I never imagined. Me, a nobody girl from a dirt poor mining town in the middle of nowhere? Nobody thought I was going anywhere, including me."
She stops and shakes her head. "I didn't come here to talk about myself, though. Sorry."
"I like a light green tea with dinner -- it's good for digestion and plus it's light and not overly sweet or flowery like jasmine," explains Ziv with a subtle smile as Violette repeats the sign. She got it right, so they nod to her in agreement, and repeat the sign back to her.
Ziv listens when Violette talks about herself, her path, the things she learned being a musician. Joyeux, yo. Plus, also, it's almost impossible to turn their attention away from her anyway.
"You did come here to talk about you, though, didn't you?" they gently prompt.
Violette glances away and lightly scratches one cheek with a neatly trimmed fingernail. Right up until she stops so she can continue signing. "I did, but I didn't." She turns back to Ziv. "I want to know about you, too. About the place you experienced. I know that can be a painful topic, but..." she trails off and seems to be trying to get her thoughts in order. "I don't to upset you by asking. I'm curious if we went to the same place, though."
There's a long silence, and Ziv -- who spends a lot of their time gently deflecting from talking about themself -- does so again by reaching for the teapot and pouring two delicate little cups of green tea. "Originally, I was not part of The City," they answer, after a long, long silence. "But at the end, yes."
In the depths of their glass bottle full of water body, little swarms of neon lights shimmer and cluster.
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" Violette asks after only hesitating a moment. "I'm sorry. I try to avoid making things about me. They're about me too often, and I'm always afraid people are going to think that I'm self-centered and conceited." Her head turns slightly and she doesn't quite conceal a wince, after which it takes a moment for her thoughts to coalesce again. "Especially now. But if it will make you more comfortable, rather than bother you, I can talk about my own experience."
"I don't talk about myself much," answers Ziv. "Most of my job is getting other people to talk about themselves as much as possible, which means decentering myself as much as I can. It's not something i'm used to." There's a wry little smile, there. Lo, for they are opposites in this, as in many things.
"The City had no place for me. I was ... something She won."
"Your job job, or do you mean being a Joyeux?" Violette asks with the motions of her hands. "The latter is my job too, but I'm not sure I'm the best at it. I'm trying. I want to be good at it. I hope I'll get better. Helping other people is one of the things I want most out of--" she trails off a second before finishing. "--my life now."
She glances at the tea, then at Ziv, and seems to ask permission with the raise of her brows.
There's also a short silence before she says more about what happened to her. When she does it's to sign, "she made me believe she loved me. Like she wanted to make her city a better place for me. I can't even make myself imagine being there and not feeling like the focus of her world, even though I know I wasn't. It's hard for me to guess what that might have been like for you."
They reach out to set one of the cups in front of her with a slightly abashed smile.
"I'm a cantorial student--that is, I am studying to become a cantor, who leads prayers at a synagogue. So my actual job-job is studying. I meant as a Joyeux," explains Ziv, curling their fingers around their small cup of tea. They go quiet, listening, and nod their head thoughtfully as she says that's what she wants out of her life now. A small sip, and then they set their cup aside so they can continue to sign.
"You stood in the light and I had the darkenss," they answer, and roll their shoulders, their lips twitching wearily as that wry smile skates back across their face.
"Like a priest?" asks Violette, because she doesn't know shit about Judaism. "How is that different than a Rabbi?" she looks like she's genuinely curious, at least. "And yes, I guess I did, but too much light and too much dark can both be dangerous, can't they?" She picks up the cup of tea and takes a sip, then puts it down again, because she can't sign to Ziv and hold the cup at the same time. "This is good."
A smile, and a little shake of their head. "No, not really. A rabbi is ... more like a priest. Rabbi means 'teacher,' though, so it's really... there's no role that's equivalent to a priest, exactly." Ziv picks up their cup, sips a little, puts it down again. "A cantor ... sings, and leads the communal prayers. A lot of Jewish synagogue life is ritual repetition of prayers together, and so someone leads that, and songs -- singing is a big thing in Reform, not in some other movements -- and so on."
And then Ziv sips more. "I suppose," they answer. "I can't judge, because I didn't experience that light, and you didn't experience my darkness. My river."
"Thank you."
Violetta nods like she understands, at least enough for now. "You like to sing too, then? Was it you that I heard singing along to my guitar? If it was, you're quite good." She picks up the tea and sips it again, this time for a little longer, leaving a bit more of a gap in the conversation, until she whispers loudly enough to carry across the table, "I love hot drinks. They help me relax. I have trouble doing that, sometimes."
She puts the cup down again after another sip, seems to pause to organize her thoughts before signing again, and then responds, "I didn't. I'm glad you got away, though. I wish I could have done something for more of us."
"I love to sing." answers Ziv, sitting back comfortably in their chair and letting their tea rest on the table. "Before-- before I was in The City, I was made as a Siren. We had pods. I don't remember much else, but I was -- at least -- with people, there." A little roll of their narrow shoulders, and they look down at their phone.
"I love tea, especially," comes their agreement. "The process of making it is ... " and they pause for words. "It's a ritual. Humans need ritual. It calms us."
They sit there for what probably feels like a long time, looking at her, in a sort of thoughtful quiet, after she answers them. "You aren't responsible for what She tricked you into doing, and I don't hate you."
Violette stills for a moment before she signs, "I love to sing too, but I can't any more. If I do, she will hear it, and know where I am. And it will let her into the minds of the people who hear it." This doesn't really scan with the way that these kinds of things usually work, but she seems utterly convinced that it's true. "That's why I can't let anyone hear my voice any more."
She picks up the tea and takes a drink, cradles the warm mug in her hands for a few seconds, and then puts it down so she can continue. "Rituals are good. I've had to develop a lot of new ones. I'm still trying to find ones that work for me, really."
Her eyes glance away before she answers the last part. "I should have known better."
Their eyes tell her when they're looking right at her, because if they're not making direct eye contact? Ziv's eyes are solid black, no pupil, no iris, just black sclera. When they make eye contact with her, though, their shockingly-white irises pop into visibility in their black eyes, like reflected hollow moons. "... that's not... usually how that works," Ziv reassures softly. "If there are other reasons you don't want to sing, that's okay. But ... even Helldivers have to have a thread, and when that thread is broken... " their voice trails off, and they shake their head.
"Finding rituals is hard." And then their shaggy-haired black head tilts to the side a little. "Known better than what?"
Violette's head shakes as she answers, "I know it's not normally, but we were close. Closer than I've ever been to someone else. She was always..." She stops her hands from moving, like someone who just realized she almost revealed a secret she shouldn't. "I used my voice to hurt people, for her. I should have known that's what I was doing, but I let her convince me I was helping them."
"If you want to be able to use your voice, we can always talk to Autumn. They're pretty competent here, from everything I've come to understand about them. So if you want them to, like, talk to you, and do the research, and see if you can sing without notifying her?" Ziv suggests, careful words, careful signs. They press their lips together a little, and stops signing when she does. "I cannot absolve you of what you did. Each person you hurt, in the way I believe, at least, has to ... forgive you. But I can help you move forward, if you want."
"They lie. It's what They do."(edited)
"The problem is that it's not my voice any more, really. It's hers. I became her voice, and it became me." Violette signs rapidly, a little agitated. "I don't think we can be separated again. They can't help me. Nobody..." her hands still. "Nobody can help me."
She lets out a sigh and looks away again. When her signing starts again there's a brief pause before she looks at Ziv. "I know that nobody can forgive me. I don't know if they should. Now I just want to be better. Even if I can't make amends, I can be better. I can make people's lives better."
They sit there for a very long time, just.. looking at her. "You are telling me two things which are essentially at odds with one another," the Siren points out, frowning thoughtfully and absently rubbing at their cheek with their fingertips. "You're saying 'nobody can help me' and in the next breath 'I want to be better.' Those two things are in diametric opposition to one another when you're in a situation like this. You can't heal from these things on your own. None of us can. So either you are incapable of being helped, or you are capable of being helped, and capable of being better. Those two things cannot exist together. So... I guess it's up to you to choose which one of those things is true."
During that period of silence Violette quietly sips her tea, though her face doesn't remain entirely still. If anything, it looks a little bit like someone who is overhearing an unpleasant conversation at the next table that they wish they could tune out, but can't; there's an occasional slight wince, she looks like she's a little uncomfortable, or her lips frown just a bit. When Ziv speaks up again she her attention comes back with a slight start.
"I guess I should say that they can't fix me," she answers after putting the cup down to free her hands. "I can use help moving forward, but I don't think there's any going back. That's why I'm in Spring, and not in Winter, in a lot of ways."
Those little motions of hers have them tipping their head the other direction, like a dog listening for a sound just out of human range. Ziv sips their tea. "I don't think it's going back to reclaim your voice. I think that's part of moving forward. Your voice was taken from you, at least inasmuch as you feel that you are unable to use it. And... I think it's fair to say your voice was -- is -- important to you. Which, you know, is something I understand."
"I won't beat this drum anymore, but -- just think about it, please. I don't think it's lost to you."
"I'll think about it, but I don't to put anybody in danger," Violette answers with graceful motions of her hands. "There are risks I don't want to take. I've hurt too many other people in the name of my own happiness. I've been finding other desires within me to pursue instead. Supporting and building up others. Helping them to find their voice. I'm finding joy in it." She'd clearly be lying if she said she was fine with this, but she does seem to have genuine enthusiasm for this course forward for herself, too.
Ziv and Violette sit at the dining table in the dining room of the little house that Eko and Ziv share. The eighth-night menorah is set up and ready to be lit, the sushi (including some tempurah, fried in oil!) is in the fridge waiting for Aaron to arrive, and the pair are talking while sipping a fragrant green tea.
"That makes perfect sense to me," agrees Ziv thoughtfully. "And it's really wonderful of you. That sounds like a significant investment of emotional energy." A pause. "I'm ... "
"Since I got back, I live out loud. I exist to be ... as queer, as Jewish, as trans, as I want to be, and to live visibly. It's a Spring thing for me. 'Here I am. If you want to live like me, if that's what you desire, then you can do it.'"
"Then we do have very similar perspectives," signs Violette with a smile that dimples her cheeks a little. "I appreciate that. I get a lot of pleasure from bolstering other people, and less from just pursuing my own interests." She makes a small wave of a hand, not a sign, just a brushing away. "I didn't become a performer to get rich, and I don't enjoy fame for my own sake. It's kind of annoying, actually. I did it because I love doing it, and because I wanted to be visible, existing as who I am, for other people to take as an example. That's what angers me most about having my voice taken from me."
And that's the point where Ziv raises their eyebrows, as if to say 'well I was just saying about your voice' but they don't press the point, instead just smiling a little bit and tipping their head to one side. "It's a good way to live. I mean, of course I'd think so, because that's how I live, but... " Their smile widens. "What can I do to help you settle in, other than introduce you to people from The City?"
"What can you tell me about what's happening in the city? For us?" Violette inquires after a pause to consider it. "Or with the other people who aren't quite human, or never where? Is there anything that you know of that people could use help with? I'd love to figure out how I can make myself useful."
Aaron's got his rabbi things to rabbi about, though not so much by the 8th night. Still, he arrives late and heads into the dining room directly, slipping out of his coat and hanging it on the back of his chair. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Can't keep the phone from ringing tonight. Hi, Ziv. And hello." The latter comment is aimed at Violette. He promptly then settles in to catching up on the conversation and not being much of a budinski.
If Violette was wondering whether or not Ziv reacts basically the same to all of their partners, now is a good answer. Aaron's arrival is met by Ziv popping up out of their chair -- even as he's sitting down -- to fling their arms around his shoulders and kiss his face. Smooch smooch! They literally light up in Violette's vision, all pink neon splashes across their river-in-a-glass-bottle body. "Hello, my love," the Siren coos, and then shakes their head in deferral of his protestations of being sorry. "I know what it's like, and I planned for it. Dinner's in the fridge. I specifically didn't order anything that would need to keep warm. Also I love sushi. I'll fetch it up, and then you can light the menorah."
"Violette Farrow, this is Rabbi Aaron Cohen. Aaron, this is Violette. She and I have -- Somewhere in common." Given what Aaron knows about Ziv's background, and the pause, that probably says a lot. But their smile never falters.
"I haven't forgotten your question, V. But let's get the menorah lit."
Violette is clearly content to sit back and enjoy a bit of compersion when Ziv finds delight in Aaron's arrival, smiling and waiting patiently for all that to happen. She waits for it to finish before she tries to address Aaron, at which point she starts signing, "it's a pleasure to meet you, Aaron. Do you happen to know ASL, like Ziv does?" She also glances at Ziv, in case translation is needed, at least for this starting bit.
Violette's name might be familiar, as might be her face. She goes by just Violette as a mononym for her stage persona, but her surname is no secret, and she's a major performing artist with a ton of radio play and worldwide recognition. She doesn't act like she thinks Aaron should know who she is, or she might be offended if he doesn't, but it's certainly possible.
They don't know for sure if Aaron speaks ASL, so they translate for him, just in case!
Aaron does not. Nor does he have any way of quickly acquiring the skills to pretend that he has. So he depends upon Ziv's translation, doing his best to keep his focus on Violette even as he's receiving the translation. He's not entirely unfamiliar with the etiquette involved, in any case. "I... think I've heard of you. Violette Farrow, right? It's a huge honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of your work." Which is as near as Aaron gets to being obnoxious about it. "Anyway. Sushi sounds great! Now let's burn this house down."
They bustle about domestically and happily, fetching chopsticks and plates and the sushi from the fridge. It's one of those 'big assortment of different rolls' thing, and they set it down on the table gingerly. "Her work is really incredible." Which is Ziv for 'she's better than I am.' They grab a lighter and set it down on the table in front of Aaron. When Violette talks? Ziv translates.
Violette smiles graciously at the compliments that she's paid. "Thank you," she signs, but she also whispers as she says it, not activating her vocal folds, just letting the movement of air over tongue and lip form the words. It means Ziv has to do a little less translation. "I'm sorry if the lack of anything new in the last couple of years has been a disappointment." She glances at Ziv and then at Aaron again. "You know a bit about where Ziv and I went? Actually, let's do the candle lighting first. Sorry, go ahead. I'm curious about this anyway." She eyes the sushi eagerly, though.
"For reasons I am not entirely aware of, people seem to trust me with their stories and hardships. I know the score with your kind probably about as well as an outsider could. I've got friends from several courts, I've seen your magic. Stuff like that." That Aaron isn't going to admit to unless he knows it's absolutely safe to do so. Aaron's shoulders hunch a bit as his hands slide into his pockets. "You can seal my promise not to share what you don't give me permission to share, if you want. Not that I know who I'd ever share such things to." Aaron then sidles over to the menorah to begin to requisite prayers, three in a row. And then he's gesturing for everyone to have a seat and have at it. Now with a whole lot of candle power.
The conversation makes Ziv's shoulders hunch up a little bit, a reflexive sort of defensiveness, and then they calm -- visibly so -- at the candles lit and the prayers, amen. They flitter off to start a second pot of tea, clicking the button on the electric kettle and cleaning out the teapot from the first pot of tea. "Did you want something other than tea to drink, my love?" This is clearly directed at Aaron.
"Aaron is safe as houses. And people trust you because you're trustworthy, Aaron. You're basically the rabbi equivalent of a golden retriever. I've never met a more trustworthy person, and people like me don't trust easily." A subtle shift of their shoulders, and once the kettle clicks off, they pour boiling water into their teapot and bring it back to the table to steep.
Violette waits in silence while the candle lighting ritual happens, which doesn't take very long, and she answers, both signing and with her whispered words, "I would point out more that telling anyone puts them in danger, more than anything. I would hope you don't plan to do that." She looks back and forth between the two and then asks, "what is hannukah about, anyway?" Now that she knows the sign for hanukkah! "All I've ever heard is that it's like Jewish Christmas, but Christmas is about Christ, so I don't expect that comparison to be accurate."
"The story of the Book of Maccabees. So therefore not part of the traditional Jewish canon, and not at all a major observance in our religious calendar. It's been made a bigger deal in the US because of the US's commercialization of that season. Anyway. The gist is that this very cool guy named Judah Maccabee gets sour about the Greeks having conquered Israel and defiling the temple with their Greek gods and such. So he whips up the people and has a rebellion about it during which we somehow defeat the greatest army in the world at that time and liberate Jerusalem. Only since the temple was being desecrated, there wasn't enough oil to keep the lights on. They found enough oil for one day, it lasted eight, until more oil could be brought in from the countryside. So the light of God never went out in the temple of The Presence." Aaron winds that up by remarking, "The historical account of the rebellion against Greece and the fictionalized modern telling of those events have blended together. Rabbis didn't feel that a story about bloody revolution and nationalist pride was really the tenor we wanted to strike as an ethnoreligion. So they accentuated the oil bit, if indeed that truly happened, and let the tale of violent warfare in the face of ethnic and religious assimilation fade away. Ironically, so that we could better assimilate." Aaron shrugs his shoulders in a 'for better or worse' manner.
"There's an awful lot of irony in an awful lot of our history," Ziv comments, fussing about domestically and all the happier for it. Once the tea has had a couple of minutes to steep -- what with Aaron explaining Hanukkah and all -- they pour three more cups of same, open the sushi, and then bustle back off for a bottle of soy sauce. Once that has all been retrieved, they sit down contentedly at the table. With Aaron here, they're just more... calm.
"Whatever it was, now it's a necessary mid-winter celebration. Light in the darkness has always been a necessary thing, especially as Winter encroaches. We don't do well with so much dark."
Violette leans forward and rests her elbows on the table chin on her hands, as she listens to Aaron explain the story behind the holiday, and everything else. Since she's doing most of her talking with her hands, it certainly speaks to her intention to listen, and not just wait for her turn to talk again. "I agree," she finally signs, and whispers, once he finishes and she lifts her head back up. "It's interesting that so many people think it's such an important holiday, just because of its relationship to one that's important to Christians. That sounds pretty typical." She shrugs. "Thank you for explaining." She picks up chopsticks, but waits for a sign that she's not just digging right in before it's time.
"It's Jewish 4th of July. Sort of." Aaron see-saws a hand, since even that comparison is a bit off. Still, she's got the idea, so he's not going to belabor the point. "Yeah. It's basically due to the fact that Christians are all about Christmas, and capitalists are all about exploiting people." Aaron selects some choice bits for himself and douses them in soy sauce and a little wasabi. So tasty. "Anyway. You're welcome. Always happy to help demystify."
"Pretty much," agrees Ziv with the basic concept and summaries that both offer. They claim a few pieces of sushi for themself, go about doctoring them up, and eat them one at a time.
"You wanted to know a little bit about what's happening. I don't know much about what's going on with-- " And here they stop for a moment, shrug, and plow on, "The vampires. Werewolf society has been -- strangely quiet. I don't know many of them, but usually you can at least... you know. Hear from them. I'll let Aaron speak to what's appropriate to know about his people. But with us... "
"The former Autumn King went missing. There are still people trying to track him down. There are are a lot of rumors as to exactly what happened there, and a lot of theories. The woman who used to be the Witch of the Bitter Winds is Queen until Marjorie takes over in a few days." One hand rubs at their cheek. "And there's a Spring Courtier who succumbed to Clarity wounds. There's a planned expedition to fish him out of his dreams."
"My experience is that most Christians are about some pretty warped views on Christianity," Violette signs, a bit awkwardly since she's holding chopsticks in one hand, but the loudly whispered words help. "But I can't disagree about capitalists at all. I keep trying to think about what I can do to change how exploitative the music industry is. I've given some thought to using my money and influence, experience and knowledge, to start a label that isn't focused on making a profit, but genuinely about helping artists get started with their careers. Especially now that I don't perform any more."
She gives Ziv all the attention they deserve as some of situations are explained, nodding like she understands. "I don't have much talent for dream work, but if there's already something planned, I imagine that there are already those involved who do. Good."
"All I can safely say is that the Mages have bigger things to worry about than what anyone else is getting up to, if you take my meaning. You shouldn't have any trouble from out sort on that score. And hopefully none of our problems will bleed into your lives any. But. You never know. I'll try to get warnings out before that happens, though." Aaron pops a roll into his mouth and chews it with relish. It was a long night, and the food has been long anticipated.
"Mmm," agrees Ziv quietly when it comes to capitalism and the music industry. "I can't say that I know an awful lot about that, but if it's anything like the rest of capitalism, it probably sucks, and it's really cool that you're doing something about it." They absently rub at their cheek, thoughtful and quiet. "I'm pretty good at it, but the people who are going on it aren't people who I've worked with before, so I'm taking a back seat on this one." Also, you know. I'm running it.
"If you're at all good in the Hedge -- we may have talked about this? -- or the Markets, Rosalyn Solfrig is one of the ones doing research into where the former Autumn King may have gotten himself to. There are running theories, but I'll let her explain them." A small glance aside at Aaron and a small smile aside to him. "And that's appreciated. I prefer only to be in other people's business where I can be of help."
"That's how we try to keep it too," Violette answers with an understanding nod to Aaron. "Out of everyone else's business." She uses the chopsticks like she's had some experience with them before, and digs into the sushi without any uncertainty or hesitation about it, so it's probably not her first time having sushi, either.
She mixes some soy and wasabi, dips a piece in, and takes a bite, before putting the chopsticks down so she can resume speaking with her hands as soon as her mouth isn't full. "I'm not particularly great in the Hedge," she answers Ziv. "Except that I can bend it to my will to a degree, better than most people. I'm not the worst, either. As to the rest, I'm thinking about doing something about it, but I don't know where to start. I barely graduated from high school, and don't know anything about business."
"You could make a label that's basically a music collective. Yeah. The successful help the struggling along. Though I can imagine the industry doesn't lend itself well to solidarity and cooperation. The charts seem awfully fickle these days." Aaron looks off into the middle distance, his golden retriever brain trying to be half as clever as it is kind. "Your Autumn king is missing?" Aaron blinks at that. "You'll let me know if you guys need a hand with that, yeah? I'm sure you've got it sorted, and all that. But. I'm pretty sure that's important."
"Lux has the arts collective, I'm pretty sure they'd be more than willing to work with you on setting up some sort of label, or at least some sort of collaborative thing, maybe?" A pause, and they look sheepishly aside. "I mean, not that I've actually -- met -- Lux at this point, I shouldn't volunteer them, but from what I've heard about the collective, that seems like something within their ouvre, you know? The range of what they seem to do."
A pause, and Ziv eats a piece or two of sushi, looking for a thread to follow through the story. "We found out when he didn't show up for the Crowning, from what I'm told. The Crown landed on someone else's head. There's -- something that we can become, if we make too many... Hedge bargains and don't pay them back. We stop being us, and we're -- " A heavy sigh. "More goblin than person. He's probably in the Hedge. So... you helping probably is a profoundly bad idea for you."
"Yes, something like a collective would be great. Honestly, I don't even really want to be in charge of it. I know my limitations. I just want a way to be able to help musicians get their careers moving without them being taken advantage of by big the big labels who are in it for the profits." Violette sighs, but shrugs. "I'd love to meet Lux and hear about their collective, and see if that might a fit. Or if we could somehow tie things together. Or cross promote. I don't know. This isn't a very well formed idea on my part."
She returns to eating sushi while Ziv is explaining the Autumn matter a bit. Not talking means her hands are free for eating.
"Like David Bowie?" Aaron is an 80's kid, he knows what's up. "You guys can-- that's a thing?" A beat. "Does that speech at the end work? The you have no power over me one? I think I know that, have you ever tried that?" Aaron is, sadly, very much out of his depth on this one, but he's trying to be helpful.
"Anyway, I think your idea sounds great, Violette. Even if I have no idea where to start with it. Sorry."
"I don't know much about it past what I've seen, you know? So hopefully when I'm able to introduce you to the others, you'll be able to like... " A little waving gesture with Ziv's chopsticks. "... figure it out." Clearly, they have no clue, really, about how one goes about doing anything with an art collective. Or a record label! But they smile as though their thought is at least hopefully helpful.
Ziv tilts their head to one side and looks at Aaron. The look on their face slides somewhere between befuddled and besotted. "... well. Uh... I mean... yes? Sort of. I mean yes it's sort of like that. I mean Labyrinth isn't a terrible explanation of the Hedge for non-Lost, honestly. I've never tried the speech... so I don't... know? Maybe it would do something. I don't... think so. Though."
With a casually little shrug for Aaron, Violette suggests he's not too worried about figuring out this thing. It will be what it will be. That kind of shrug. She finishes her mouthful of sushi and then starts to sign and whisper, "it wasn't much like Labyrinth for me at all, except in some superficial ways, but I think my circumstances were different. I don't think that speech would do much. For me it would be more like that Taylor Swift song. 'We are never ever ever getting back together'."
She does a surprisingly good job of singing with her hands, not just signing with them, making the motions artistic and fluid, rhythmic and dancing. And somehow, she makes a whispered version of lyrics sound cutting, bitter, angry, and heartbroken. It should not be humanly possible for such much emotional investment to come through in a couple of seconds of silly, whispered song lyrics, but it does. In this case, because she's incapable of inhuman performance.
Which is one of the handful of reasons why she doesn't perform any more.
"If I ever meet a Goblin King, I'll give it a try. And if I survive the experience, I'll report back." Aaron sounds like he's serious. He probably is. It is, in this particular case, literally the least he can do. He grins broadly at Violette's invocation of Her Majesty Taytay. "Yeah, I guess it's really subjective for each and every one of you, isn't it? I wasn't meaning to compare what you went through to a movie with muppets, just. The concept of people turning into goblins if they make deals with the fey is... you know. That's the movie."
Ziv was going to say something, but then the Siren gets totally distracted by the signing. It takes them a minute to even translate for Aaron, but they eventually do. "Not... not with fae directly but... yeah, that's the basic idea. And I imagine probably the movie was a sort of -- " Pause. "Humans who have too much contact with people like us can sometimes become targets. You're not -- you know. In that kind of danger. But like -- before, maybe?" Their webbed fingers wiggle. "So sometimes there's stuff like that which is -- sort of a warning. The way parents tell children 'there's a witch in the woods' to keep them from going out at night and getting hurt."
"Sorry," Violette says to Ziv, when she catches the distracted expression. "Sometimes I just..." she gestures, searching, hand rotating as she tries to find the right way to phrase it. "Things just want to come out. But yeah, that's what I was saying earlier about how telling people about our business can put them in danger, not necessarily from us, so that's why it's a good idea not to." She offers Aaron a smile, dimples showing a little. "I wasn't offended by the question, don't worry."
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