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Messages went flying out from the Crowns once word came back that the party was returning -- Liane caught sight of them returning, and beat feet as only the Freehold's fastest star-wolf can in order to carry the word.
Drop what you're doing and get to the Autumn Hollow. Liane will see you in if necessary. They found Buidhe.
The Ghul, in her ratty, much-mended wool coat and worn-out jeans, escorts non-Autumns in and opens the door to Buidhe's cottage for them to have somewhere warm to wait. The last of the group arrives just as Asbolus and Artie return with the patrol. Rosalyn hands Buidhe off to Liane, who huffs a thank you, and then the members of yesterday's group who aren't staying head off to their own tasks.
As the final people arrive, the embers of Artie's earlier contract die out. He whispers sweet nothings to his spear and lays a hand on his chest, a flare of mantle in the form of a shortlived heatwave and the cry of cicadas.
He then gestures toward the Ghul who has hands on a very large owl practically swaddled in a blanket and fur cloak. "So... We managed to catch up to Buidhe. Got him back without any physical harm to anyone. Sigrun's work. But... He is not well at all. See how his mantle is missing? We figure that his goblin debt got too high and he's on the way to becoming a Goblin King. So we need to work out how to fix him...and help him back."
The cowpoke had thankfully been in the hedge nearby the Trod, so it was an easy enough thing to notice the group arriving--and spotting Buidhe, their lips purse tightly. They step out of the thorns and move after them, and into the Autumn Hollow. They move off to the side, arms crossing over their chest.
Violette has never been into the Autumn Hollow before, but if she's asked to go and see if she can help, she does. She was asked, so she turns up. She does have to be let in by Liane, but that's fine, and not so hard to arrange.
When she arrives it's with a presence that seems to fill even quite a bit of the expansive space of the large Hollow, filling the air with an an energy like the electric hum of a neon light, but inaudible. It's more feeling than anything else, something that draws the eyes toward her like iron filings drawn to an electromagnet. She's Wyrd enough, that while she doesn't quite appear to be one of the Gentry herself, she could be mistaken for it out of the corner of the eye.
Meanwhile, she's just wearing jeans and a plain black hoodie, like she's trying to play down her appearance as much as possible. It doesn't really work very well.
The neon woman looks around when she enters, then heads toward where Arthur is filing in some details about what happened for people, green glowing hands shoved into her hoodie's pocket.
Charlie got the message from her Crown. She is a goblin expert, so it only makes sense. She dashes up to Buidhe as soon as she's let in to the Autumn Hollow and looks him over. He's in a sorry state, but she wants to understand just how bad.
Asbolus remained silent as they returned to the hollow, the rush of the completed hunt having left something empty in its place. He nodded to the others as they began to gather, stopping short as the familiar verdant glow and pull of the Wyrd coming from Violette caused the air about him to go stock still and drop a number of degrees. He simply watched as she approached, the matter they were there for gone from his mind for the time being.
Have you ever seen an owl swaddled in a cloak? Buide looks like the world's most discontented baby, and he probably could get out of it if he wanted to, but he's just sort of staring murder at anyone who gets too close.
"Yes, yes, I know," sighs Liane, looking down at her former Crown. Her voice has a sort of strange cadence to it; on top of the Austrian accent, she's got a mouthful of vicious wolf teeth, and she rolls her r's and chops up the syllables of her words as if biting through meat. "It is diff-i-cult to be un-well in the Hedge." As Charlie runs over to her, the Autumn wolf focuses her gaze on her. Liane's eyes are solid black unless she's making eye contact with someone, and then her white irises rise out of the darkness like two hollow moons. "Hel-lo, Charrrr-lie."
Tiny galaxies and stars turn like perfect clockwork inside her stellar body, and she offers a sharp-edged smile. "He is a-live. Not well, but a-live."
Then she turns her gaze back to Buidhe, frowning.
Alain had dutifully dropped what she was doing and posted an expedient arrival at the Autumn Hollow, inclining her head to the Ghul with a nod of a greeting, and turns her attention on Buidhe himself, letting a pensive and piercing gaze settle on him while she absorbs Arthur's commentary.
As the specialists begin to work their wizardry, Artie continues the info dump. "That's the most obvious problem. Next, he's been tearing out his own feathers and isn't eating so he's getting very skinny. Apparently it's cuz of stress at feeling unsafe everywhere. Sigrun said that he sold off a big debt in... A market. I forgot its name. But that place took it poorly so they may be hunting him. So he's got goblin debt plaguing his body and real debt threatening his everything else." He sighs.
"Oh. And he won't stop being an owl so we can't talk to him."
Violette's strength in these kinds of situations isn't the information she can gather with Contracts, but conversation. For the moment she's listening to what's being discussed between Liane and Arthur, taking that in, and watching Buidhe. The darker patches within the neon of her face, behind the gleaming glass of her skin, shift through worried expressions, and then her considerable attention moves back to Liane . "Are you confident that unwanted magic can't get in or out here?" she asks in an elevated whisper, no voice to her words. Her hands move through signing the same query.
"Asbury Park." Asbolus answered idly to Arthur's comment about the other market, the little tidbit of knowledge beginning to tug him out of the past and back to the here and now.
"The Dark Market," Bailey says with a grunt. "Spoke to the hob that he did bad business with there. One of 'em, anyway."
Liane's wolflike nose wrinkles up with disdain, and she sighs. "You al-ways did make bad barrrrr-gains," the Ghul sighs down at Buidhe, shaking her head a little bit. Buidhe struggles a little in vague protest, and screech up at her. "O-kay, not al-ways, but when you make bad de-cis-ions, boy, you make rrrrrreal bad ones. But is why we are frrrrriends, you rrrrre-mind me of him Barrrr-on."
A small, twisted frown, and her gaze flicks briefly to Bailey, that brief brilliant bit of eye contact before she looks around the group again. Her attention goes back to Bailey, then. "Which hob him did a bad bus-i-ness with?"
"Scypho," they reply simply.
"As con-fi-dent as an-y-one can be in the Hedge," Liane says in response to Violette, which may not be reassuring? Her forehead wrinkles up as if this question is confusing.
Artie taps his nose and points to Asbolus. "Yeah that's the one. Thanks." He offers with a smile.
Setting his spear against a wall, he rifles through his bag and produces several different food items: granola, jerky, sandwiches, and chips. He offers them to Liane.
"I... Could you or someone try offering him food? I don't know how much it will help, but it can't hurt right?" The smith asks hopefully.
"Do you guys keep any goblin fruit in here? I may as well try to recover some glamour while you guys work. No big if not though."
"Though he's been doin' plenty of bad business with other hobs," they add after a beat. "My current room-mate was swindled out of his home by him." The cowpoke eyes Buidhe, none too pleased.
Charlie stares intently at Buidhe for long enough that it'd be uncomfortable if people didn't know she was doing magic things. But then she recoils back like she'd been shot.
"I'm fine!" She reassures, "just tried to look too closely. But um, his Clarity is in a bad way. A really bad way. He's scared and probably believing things that aren't real. I can try to fix that a little, but he'll still believe whatever it is that's troubling him. Can anyone heal wounds or should I do that too?"
When Artie asks, Charlie jostles her red messenger bag. "I have three in here."
Violette chews lightly on her lower lip, and the green glow under her skin dims where the pressure of her teeth applies, and after a second or two she nods. "Okay," she whispers. It could briefly seem like that's that, but there's a tension that builds around her that almost seems to ripple out of her, like she can't help but project her feelings outward on others.
Then she does something nobody in the Freehold has heard her do: she speaks aloud. Her voice is arresting, the kind of voice that cuts through conversation even though she's speaking in a soft, reassuring tone. Every syllable seems to be perfectly tuned to the exact key of her emotions, and there's a harmonizing electric undercurrent that makes it kind of seem like she's speaking with two voices at the same time. "We're going to figure out how to help you," she says to Buidhe, with the weight of absolute conviction.
She looks up at Charlie, grants a glowing smile, and says, "if you have that talent, then please."
Buidhe's eyes go comically wide and he sort of flutters inside the cloak. The tiniest of squeaks. But then? He relaxes just a little bit. Just a little. His body is still pretty rigid, as if he's holding himself terribly on guard. Liane might have been about to say something, but instead she turns her attention to Violette, and she blinks slowly. She takes the food offered by Artie and holds a piece of the jerky out for Buidhe.
He snaps his beak shut like a 2 year old being offered peas.
Whatever progress Asbolus' mind had been making towards reaffirming where and when he was immediately shattered the moment Violette properly spoke, his pale-eyed gaze snapping towards her as he took a step back on reflex. And then another, with a quietly muttered "forgive me" as he moved away from the gathered group, heading towards the nearest cabin and stepping around the corner to lean against it, eyes closed and fists balled up as he took one shaky breath after another.
"I'm used to gettin' unruly animals to eat," Bailey offers, uncrossing their arms.
Arthur smiles towards Charlie. "... Really tempting but," his eyes drift to the owl, "but you might need that more than me right now." He admits.
Then Violette speaks and the tailor looks at her, his mouth a little agape. He had never heard a voice like that in real life. He blinks a couple time in surprise. "Wow..." Somehow, his eyes seem just a little unfocused.
Alain takes a slide of a step forward, though not so close to further invade Buidhe's shrinking bubble of personal space, and pauses when Violette's voice reverberates with a thrumming otherworldliness. She waits while the note is still in the air, glances expressionlessly at Violette , and then turns again on the owl-Buidhe.
She crouches down as far as it takes to be approximately eye-level with him, and then takes another step forward. "Buidhe," she starts, voice low and almost too quiet, so that it forces strain -- and coerces silence -- in order to hear it. "We're going to help you. Everyone here," she gestures a small circle with her hand, like frosted glass.
"Wants to help you. And everyone here is willing to offer up some part of themselves to get you well. Even if you don't believe we can be successful, will you at least not obstruct our attempts? Just to try? And if we fail, we fail. But let us try," she reasons hypnotically, all sympathy. "You've been through so much. We're going to do all we can to spare you anymore. We just need you to cooperate a little. This is reasonable. Yes?"
Charlie shivers as Violette talks. Presence 7 is a lot of Presence. "Alright, I'll give it a shot." She takes a step back and shouts, "Buidhe and I are friends!" to no one in particular, before letting her wyrd work its magic and hopefully settle the King's mind. Then, she'll move in and if the others let her get close enough to touch him, her hands will light up like they have battery powered LEDs in the palms and lay her hands upon him.
Bailey approaches, pulling out some goblin fruit from their pocket, slicing it up into owl-bite size pieces. They don't talk--talking ain't their thing, but the way they move is non-aggressive, non-forceful, but the food is offered within reach of Buidhe--but with their body turned away, in a way to reassure a skittish animal that the food isn't going to be snatched away from them.
Violette is not subtle, and Alain is almost certainly capable of more precision than she is, so V is pretty content to stand back for the moment and let a more targeted approach take the lead, rather than her trying to socially brute-force her way to her goals. She smiles appreciatively at Alain and stands by, ready to jump in if needed. While also glancing in the direction that Asbolus wandered off to.
The joint actions of all three persons -- Bailey, Alain, and Charlie -- seem to cause Buidhe to gently unfurl, even though he's very much still furled up in the blanket like the world's most dangerous burrito save the one with Carolina Reapers on top of end-of-night Taco Bell beans.
Except for that, he's the most dangerous burrito.
But he goes all soft, and quietly opens his vicious little beak to take slices of goblin fruit.
After Budihe takes the first couple of bites, Bailey slowly turns back and continues gently feeding him slices of fruit.
Charlie looks vaguely in the direction of Liane, though her vision is decidedly off. It's not hard to tell that she's got something up with her vision. But now isn't the time to deal with that conundrum. "Um, Ms. Ghul? I think, um, that this might not entirely have been Buidhe's fault. I think there might have been someone who tricked him into a Bad Deal."
Having composed himself as best as he could manage Asbolus moved to rejoin the others, giving an apologetic look before retaking his place among them. It was clear at a glance that he was still rattled but his focus was back on the matter at hand; he could handle his own issues later.
Violette's body language changes a little, turning toward Charlie with curiosity, waiting for more information to come. Her choice not to speak a question aloud is probably intentional, but it doesn't stop the unspoken question from radiating off of her like it's almost a real thing. It just means that the fact that she's trying not to be intrusive also seems nearly palpable. It's like when someone is trying extremely hard not to stare, and it's even more obvious than the staring would have been.
Bailey eyes Charlie, a touch doubtful, a touch curious. "What makes ya say that?"
"Thank you, Buidhe," Alain muses when the owlish beak accepts slices of goblin fruit. She presses back up into a stand and exhales a barely audible breath. She glances over at Charlie, canting her head faintly to the side, and though her features remain expressionless, her voice brooks more curiosity. "Oh?"
She looks at Buidhe again with consideration. "Mm," she murmurs softly.
Artie looks curiously at Charlie, a slight squint at her.
Oh boy, suddenly there are a lot of eyes on Charlie. She rises from sitting and moves away from Buidhe to leave the king in Bailey's care. She takes a deep breath and stands up straighter with poise and rigidity. "So, I was investigating possible human trafficking in the Markets and everyone I talked to had been really cagey about Bad Deals. It's not conclusive or anything but I'm thinking that maybe the two are related somehow. It's just a hunch, but I have, um, a strong gut feeling."
And then suddenly the former Autumn King is no longer in the swaddling, flapping his wide wings once, twice, buffetting LIane in the face, and flying up to land on the roof of his cottage. He hisses wordlessly. Boy, owl hisses are... strange sounds.
Bailey purses their lips. "You sayin' the hobs are in on this, and framin' him? Or that someone else tricked him into making the deal?" They grunt as Buidhe flies up, looking up to eye him.
Buidhe's sudden movement made Asbolus flinch briefly, pale eyes watching as he flew up to the cabin roof and let his displeasure be known. "Hmm."
Untitled Goose Admin (she/her)Today at 9:08 PM
Violette winces as Buidhe flaps in Liane's face and then takes off to perch on a roof, and then frowns when he goes to perch on a roof nearby. "It would be a lot easier to deal with this if we could convince him to come down and turn back into a form that speaks English," she says quietly. "I could try to convince him." She glances around, like she's waiting for someone else to give approval to the idea before she tries to talk anyone into anything.
As Buidhe freed himself, Artie 's hand lashed out and snatched up his spear, moving between the owl and the more vulnerable.
As the former monarch took up a roost, he relaxed only slightly at not having to play piñata.
"Ya know... The hollow deed that he swindled my friend out of was sold to a hob in The Dark Market," Bailey says slowly, brows creasing as they puzzle things out in their head. "And was later bought, from that hob... by a Lost. Someone in Red Rose. They don' much like us. Might've been a carefully planned fuck you, if this lady set Buidhe up to make the deals... Or... the hollow had a library in it, if I remember right. Might be somethin' that Red Rose would look at wantin' awful fierce. Hell, maybe both..." She squints up at the owl. "Someone in Red Rose fuckin' with you, Buidhe?"
Alain holds up a finger at the cross-talk, her gaze still on Buidhe. "Forgive me for this next part," she begins.
"But we had better take a look instead of speculating on what might have been." She exhales another breath, a deep one, out through her nose and fixates on some far spot in the distance, starting to cycle through an increasingly fast list of apparently arbitrary and unrelated words, random and eclectic. "Headquarter, seven, pension, row, isolation-flatware-directory," and so on, strung together like at a near auctioneer clip as her eyes whiten, and she lifts the veil to peer into the past.
Charlie listens intently to Bailey, "I don't know a ton, but, um, a screw you doesn't feel impossible with the evidence you have. I don't know for sure what happened regarding the deal, but, um, with the info I have now, I could probably do some targeted investigation."
And after a solid minute of babbling, other words start landing, like arrow shots getting closer and closer to a target. "Cinnamon, wristwatch, impetigo, trap, milano, earbuds, twisted, Fahrvergnügen, haunted, trafficking," and then she stops. Alain's whited eyes blink slowly, reflexively, as if she's not quite in control of her face.
The Snowskin sees the scene as if it's a movie viewed through a soft focus filter. The trees are still softly green -- Spring, probably -- and Buidhe, in his humanoid shape, stands talking to a hob that looks like a cross between an ink blot and a jellyfish, clear liquid sort of blobbing in the air with black splotches inside of it.
"So -- " His voice is sharp, his gaze intense. "I'll bring you the deed to the house he stole, you'll give me the names?"
"Mmmhmmm mmmhmm mmmhmm mmmhmm... " The blobthing bobs up and down and somehow swirls at the same time, the rhythmic motion coming with an up-and-down pitch, making it -- whatever it is -- seem like the world's most eerie muppet.
"It's a deal." And there's the snap feeling of a Sealing.
The Contract ends. Her tongue un-ties, and the whiteness fades from her eyes, bringing the Hollow back into view.
Bailey looks to Charlie. "I'll be helpin' you with them investigations. I agreed to bring the bad dealer to 'em, before I knew it was Buidhe. Finding proof that he was tricked into it might appease 'em enough to back down. Assumin' it's the case." They look towards Alain then, watching for the results of the vision.
Alain blinks a few times once the Contract ends and her eyes change back, and she turns her refocusing vision towards the others, and then towards Buidhe. "He made a deal, a deed for a house someone stole, for some names." She purses her lips together and wrinkles her eyebrows in the nearest likeness to an expression her sphinx-like disposition is capable of.
"Is Scypho the one who looks like a big jellyfish?" she asks of anyone in the area.
Bailey squints. "Yeah, that's him. Did Buidhe tell him the deed was stolen? Cause that tentacley son of a bitch said to my face that he didn' know how the deed was got, wouldn't'a bought or sold it, if he'd known."
"Now that I'm thinkin' of it, there was another hob there--a seal man, who was lookin' real uncomfortable while I was talkin' to Scypho about this..." They scowl.
"Wait, wait--you saw a big jellyfish, or a person wearin' a jellyfish hat?"
"It seems the matter of the deed being stolen was mutually understood," Alain relates back to Bailey as she holds the vision in her mind as clearly as she is able now that the Contract has done its work. "Not a hat," she clarifies. "A giant blob, like a clear water sac or something, with black, inky splotches floating around inside. Some months ago."
Violette's new in town and largely has no idea what anyone is talking about, so for now she listens, while watching Buidhe. She stares his way as he perches up on the roof, smiling and trying to give off all the reassurance and calm energy that she can. Which she's surprisingly good at.
Asbolus' gaze hadn't left Buidhe either since he landed on the roof, although he was listening intently to the conversation going on about him. Quiet Darkling was quiet, as he tended to be.
"Huh." Their brows crease. "Then that ain't Scypho. That's someone else. But it was Scypho that was claimin' to have bought and sold the deed... Must'a been that this big jellyfish sold the deed to Scypho, and Scypho didn' know it was stolen, then. I imagine the jellyfish that passed it on played innocent about it when Mosspockets showed up askin' around, just blamed Buidhe..."
"Do you know what the names were or were for?" Charlie asks. "Because I feel like that could be a huge clue in the right direction for us to investigate.
Alain shakes her head. "There was no such indication in my vision," she reports, turning her assessing eyes towards Buidhe.
"Mmm.... So... Buidhe... Sold a deed? To Scypho? For what hollow? Cuz I'd love to get my hands on the deed and ask it a couple questions about its owners..." Artie asks, trying to piece together this series of events laid out.
"Cuz it sounds a little like this passing of hands can be answered pretty quickly if I could."
Buidhe slowly edges down the roof away from Violette.
Liane crouches comfortably next to the group. It's sort of a Slav Squat but also she has wolf paws instead of feet, complete with the 'I'm actually walking on my toes' ankles, so it's a little weird. Her attention shifts from person to person, though she keeps looking over at Buidhe most often.
"Not exactly, ah--here, lemme lay it all out," Bailey adjusts their hat.
"So, there's this hob named Mosspockets, who had this real nice hollow in a tree--had lotsa books an' such in it. He was swindled out of the deed by some lost, sounded like through some sort of cheatin' while gamblin' or somethin'. He mentioned something about a game. But he couldn' remember what their names were or nothin'. Been too long, don' seem like he has a good memory."
"But he tracked down the deed--to The Dark Market, where the trail went cold. So I went on his behalf, spoke to Scypho and agreed to bring in this bad dealer in return for information. He told me he didn' know it was Buidhe behind it all, didn't know it was stolen. So--sounds like this jellyfish guy bought it from Buidhe, knowin' an' all how he got it, and sold it to Scypho without tellin' him. Played innocent when Mosspockets came to the market asking for the deed, so that all the blame is on Buidhe. That's me assumin' here, but seems a good guess."
"The deed had already been sold, though. To a Lost in Red Rose. A big ol' tall lady--taller than Rieko, who was dark too. Didn' get much else out of him. So the deed, right now, is in the hands of someone in Red Rose."
"Did Buidhe admit to stealin' it in the vision?" they confirm with Alain.
Violette moves a few steps closer to Buidhe. "We want to help you," she says up to him in that eerie, impossible to ignore voice of hers. "That's what we do for each other. That's what it means to be part of a community, at least to me." Every word of it is completely true. "We'd make much better progress on that with your guidance. Please? I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm not mad at you, whatever happened. I just want to understand, and figure out how we can move forward."
Alain shakes her head at Bailey again. "I bring you the deed to the house he stole, you give me the names," she repeats, word for word, or near enough. "He stole. Someone else stole it."
QuicksilverFox85 (she/her)Today at 10:08 PM
Cue Asbolus tensing up again as Violette spoke, almost taking a step back himself but stopping himself with a scowl on his face and a muttered "calm down, man..." said more to himself than anyone else.
Their eyes narrow at that news, nodding to Alain. "So, to clear his name, I figure..." She holds up a hand. "We need to find out who really stole the deed from Mosspockets, and," another finger. "We need to find this jellyfish fucker. Cause he's gettin' the blame for both these things."
Spider (they/he)Today at 10:15 PM
crrrrrrrrk
Violette's words at least cause Buidhe to stop scooting away from her, and then -- possibly for the first time in months, the former Autumn King is a human again.
Kind of.
For those who have seen him before, Buidhe now looks... emaciated. Truly unwell. Starving. He hasn't eaten well for months, probably, maybe even since Spring or early Summer, and he's reached the point where his body is cannibalizing itself. Sunken, dark eyes, clothes worn to the point of near non-existence, and he starts shivering right away. There's just no body fat to hold in heat, and his feathers are jacked, and he's sitting still.
But he looks even more inhuman than he ever has before: his nose a hooked beak, his eyes huge, strigiformic, and dark. He tick-tick-ticks his head back and forth, and creaks back at Violette "Too far gone. Can't help. Let go."
Liane can't be seen to roll her eyes, since they're solid black, but the emotion is there. "Drrrrrrrrrrra-ma-tic."
Alain deVahl [Pax] (she/her)Today at 10:33 PM
Alain gives Buidhe another perfunctory onceover, and if she was prone to giving things away by expression, this would probably be something akin to gross dissatisfaction.
"Buidhe," she says, her own voice a soft counterpoint to Violette's. "We agreed; you will let us try to help you. This is how we survive. I know how tired you are," she sympathizes. "But it's not time to give up. I will let you know when it is," she tells him, as if that is a matter-of-fact. "But it's not now. Don't hinder people who would help you. Tell us what the names were for, tell us who stole the deed, and we can end this," she coaxes.
Bailey looks up to eye Buidhe as he changes. They are... not remotely eloquent, but boy are they getting annoyed now. Their Summer mantle flaring around them a bit. "Fuck that. We ain't lettin' go. I in particular ain't lettin' this go, cause this ain't just about you. So. How about ya help us out and tell us what you know about this jellyfish hob, and the lost you got the deed from? Cause it's gonna come out sooner or later, but you'd be savin' all of us a hell of a lotta time and effort--and danger, no doubt. If ya give a shit about this Freehold, then stop bein' an over dramatic asshole and answer this pretty lady's damn questions."
Violette is here to look to Buidhe's needs as much as to solve the mysteries, or more so. When he changes forms and is clearly cold and shivering she unzips her oversized (on her) hoodie. "Why don't you come down here and put this on?" she says as she starts peeling it off, revealing more glowing neon green. "I'll be fine, and you look like you could use a little warmth." She looks over at Liane and asks, "are there blankets or spare clothes in any of the cottages that we could grab, for that matter?"
Well, Violette is going to have to wait just a second on that jacket, because Buidhe first turns his head toward Alain, cocking his head back and forth curiously, the pupils of his great wide inhuman eyes narrowing and widening, revealing a golden iris.
"I did not -- " He pauses, as if trying to follow a trail that's gone cold, looking down and snaking his head back and forth. Like looking for a mouse in the snow. "Squish told me Mosspockets stole. I believed. Took on board. Names for thieves, stealing lives. When the clock strikes twelve, the child will be mine, this, yes yes? But not here, not in home, not allow--"
But then Bailey says what Bailey says, and Buidhe screams back at him. It is no sound a human throat should be able to make, because, well, Buidhe's pretty far gone from human. It is a Great Horned Owl's scream deformed into words. "TWENTY-TWO YEARS! I GIVE! MINE! ALL! CARRY ALL BURDEN THIS! TRICKED FOR YOU! BABY YOU! SMALL YOU! FRAGILE YOU! ALL! ALL! TRICKED, SWINDLED, IMPOSSIBLE BURDENS!"
And then he tries to take off toward Bailey, as if, perhaps, to attack him. But for the first time in most of a year, he doesn't have wings.
Buidhe falls.
Alain arches a pale eyebrow as Buidhe starts to grow more and more agitated, and then when she speaks, it's a fraction of a second after he starts to lunge, then fall. "Buidhe, Buidhe, no-" But it doesn't matter, it's too late, and Buidhe is plummeting.
The scarecrow at least has the sense to take a few quick steps back, putting space between them and the very angry-owl man. Blessedly, they say nothing else, just staring with tightly pursed lips. Once they see that Arthur has securely caught him, they scowl with frustration--at Buidhe or themself, hard to tell--and turn to step out of the cottage, taking up a spot to listen in beside a window--but now out of sight.
As the no longer owl slips from the roof, Artie's legs are already in motion. He wasn't even thinking about it honestly, but then he was catching Buidhe. He was gentle about it, cushioning the impact to practically nil cushioning the man-hob in his arms.
"Shh... Buidhe. It's alright. No one has forgotten what you've done for this place. Now... Let me fix your clothes up. And get you some more food. Get you warm, inside and out hmm?" The wizened posits with a soft smile.
Then he gently sets Buidhe on the ground before holding out his arms, then he ticks his left arm back four times like a clock in reverse.
Beneath him, the owl-king's clothes begin to reweave and repair themselves of their own accord.
Untitled Goose Admin (she/her)Today at 11:12 PM
Violette's not the one being yelled at, but she winces and shrinks back like she is. She's definitely not springing into action to try to catch Buidhe, not that she would have the ability to do that catching even if she did.
A quiet "bloody hell" slipped from Asbolus' lips as Buidhe screeched and leapt off of the roof, causing the Darkling to move forward. He stopped himself a few steps away as Arthur got into range and caught him first as to not plow into the pair, letting out a slow breath of relief.
He's terribly light when Artie catches him, not that this should be surprising. The former Autumn King runs out of fight pretty damn quickly once Bailey is no longer within eyeshot. "Not a child," he chirrs at Artie, struggling out of the Summer's grip. But he doesn't attack anyone or dash off.
"Stop ac-ting like one, then," and Liane snaps her teeth at him. "You act like him Errrrrnst." She turns on her padded feet and stomps off to retrieve warm blankets.
He's well cowed at this point, and grumbles under his breath, reaching to take Violette's hoodie, somewhat chagrined. "Tired."
Violette moves forward again to let Buidhe take the hoodie now that he's not yelling any more. "I imagine you would be," she says in that attention-grabbing double-toned voice. Even though she's speaking, not singing, there's something musical to it, a flow and rhythm that she always brings. "Why don't we get you into a bed for some rest? We can figure out our next steps for getting you out of the mess you're in, but it can wait until you've had some sleep in a relatively safe place, I think."
Alain treads a bit closer to where Buidhe is being, well, practically swaddled by Arthur who has caught him. As the Autumn King is set down on his feet, the Snowskin hampers another illegible exhale, and attempts to relieve him of some of his Clarity damage, but to no avail.
It's as close to exasperated as she's ever looked, even if the effect is minimal, by fractions of degrees. "Nothing." There's a graveled scratch behind and beyond her normally soft tone. She bobs her head at Violette and Artie, casting another look at the owl-ish Autumn King. "I don't think we can accomplish anymore right now," she acquiesces.
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