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The sheer banality of scheduling has been endured by one (1) Johnnie, and Alexis Sobel noted that she had some time quite late at night on a Thursday. Autumns do keep weird hours.
There's a jack-o-lantern on her front porch, and the candle inside it flickers merrily: this is the indication that The Queen Is In, and the fact that it's on the left side of the porch means that she has an appointment scheduled, and it is not open office hours where anyone can drop in if they need her. These simple symbols have been communicated to the rest of Autumn, so when Johnnie arrives? She can see the Queen through the window, pouring boiling water from a kettle into a teapot. It's going to be one of those nights.
She's felt before she's seen.
She always is.
The slow settle of suspicion that maybe- just maybe- that door goes Someplace Else. The skitter of brilliant, dried leaves against the doorstop outside. Add a touch of that gentle deepening of Wyrd, and you conjure up a Johnnie, delicate fingers that still feel strange without their knives rap knuckles backhand against the door. In her best nasal Brookyln whine, Johnnie announces herself. "Yer Majesty, yer one AM is here. Shall I send her in? I can tell her yer onna call if you want a few minutes."
Laughter rolls out from inside the cabin, and the Antiquarian calls back, "Send her in, please," in a genuinely amused voice.
By the time Johnnie comes in, she's settled herself in her chair; a heavy knit shawl is wrapped around her shoulders, the delicate pattern of leaves worked in reds and oranges. Only one cup of tea is poured thus far, and it's set by her overstuffed chair. "Good evening, Johnnie Drexel." One dark eye winks, and she gestures to the other chair in offering.
"S'yer funeral, boss!"
Of course, there is no funeral to be had. Just a lanky Elemental flanked by an entire entourage of shadows just barely kept from becoming true nuisance as they play at nosing around the cabin without actually disturbing anything. Who knows what deals her Courtmates- much less her Queen- might have regarding their things? Johnnie surely didn't know, and didn't intend to. She simply entered and offered an all-too-liquid, clearly rehearsed curtsy with the ends of her longcoat. "Your Majesty," she offers in her natural, smoky contralto. She notes the offer of the chair, and the lack of an offer of tea, and beams below shadowed eyes as she sweeps to swirl into the chair as offered. "Don't mind if I do~ and it is, so far. For me, anyhow. Hopefully for you, as well?"
Hey, it's still interest in someone else's well being. That's still a good sign.
"Relatively speaking," the Queen answers, reaching for her tea. The cup across the table from her remains empty, though there's plenty in the teapot should Johnnie wish to help herself. It's not like Johnnie's aversion to being offered food and drink is difficult to note: her motley makes silly big shows out of working their way around it, after all.
"I assume you've heard at least -- the very basics of recent news. Whether or not he's fully become a Goblin King, our former King seems to have ... started down that path. And then there's the sighting of a Helldiver and the fact that we ... recovered... two of their compatriots. It's been ... a trial by fire for a new monarch."
"Is there any other way to speak, really? Everything's different somewhere," quips Johnnie as, rather than pour herself something to drink, simply lifts the cup and plays at delicate sips, engaging in the ritual with none of the waste or risk. "And I've picked up that much on the winds, yeah. I'm- well. There's a reason I don't deal in those things." Goblin contracts, namely. "I'm an awful bookkeep and I'd make a lousy monarch, goblin or otherwise."
Which was as close as Johnnie could get to admitting how fucking terrified of losing herself she was. She martialled her Self very, very religiously for precisely that reason.
"As far as the sighting, that's what intrigued me. I had a leash once, myself, and am interested in seeing if I can orchestrate the same sort of lucky accident that saw me free of mine." What precisely that incident was eluded her just now, but that didn't need to be discussed yet. "When their compatriots were retrieved, was it in the "and now we have to lock them up and hate it" manner of retrieval or in the "someone fetch the dustpan and the OUTDOOR broom" sort? And do we know much beyond "there's a Diver round"?"
She offers Johnnie a small smile of understanding. "I would not trifle with such things were I not, myself, a very careful person." A pause, and Alexis adds, "Which I am, and I still don't mess with them much." Her nose wrinkles up, just so.
"From what I have been told -- which is precious little in details, as the incident itself happened during Summer and I have not heard a full report since change of Seasons -- there was an attempt to re-kidnap a recent escapee and their sibling, which was intercepted by members of your motley. I understand there was an attempt to break that silver thread, but ... it was unsuccessful. We have the two companions of the Helldiver in question in custody, which wears on me, but -- I would prefer they were questioned and given an opportunity, and a choice."
"There are always people for whom we would do the unspeakable," offers Alexis gently, thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is a solution where no one else has to die."
"And then again, perhaps there isn't." Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth as she takes another sip of her actual tea. "Which leads me to wondering why you, as you are, remain a Ranger of the Thorns. Is it lack of ambition, or some other reason?"
"Wise, indeed. I'm told it's a lovely trait for the head that wears the crown," Johnnie offered, grinning. There was something to be said for knowing how many toes to dip in besharked waters, too, but never let it be said she's a bad influence.
"Death is boring. It's bricking over a door that might have any number of things behind it. World peace? Serial killers? The new overpriced fruit-phone that everyone's drooling over? Who knows? And nobody will cuz now it's bricks and unless you're very, very clever, whatever's back there's staying." Also the soul-rending dissonance of enforcing one's preferences over the life of another to the umpteenth degree. Hard to believe, but among her motley, Johnnie's still got one of the lowest kill counts for just that reason. Walking the edge like she does doesn't leave much room for careless slaughter.
"As for the unspeakable... no. There's not always. And that's what makes it special when there is." A quiet musing, a glance out the window, shadowed by darkened brows.
"Hm? Oh. I mean." She shrugs. "Plenty of work to go around, and what else am I gonna do, kick someone else out of their job?" She shakes her head. She really does TRY to be considerate. "There's only one job I'd really want and I figured I'd bide my time. I've, uh. Got a lot of it, and if the current Ghul's tired of her position, I hadn't heard of it."
"Death is... terribly final," agrees Alexis quietly, absently sipping at her tea and looking off across the room. A line of text crawls up her face, unintelligible and half-faded. "We cannot hold them forever, of course. It isn't good for anyone's head. So we'll have to make a decision one way or the other."
Alexis sets her cup aside for the moment. "There is nothing in the way that the Freehold is structured which says that Ghul -- in particular -- is a job which only one person can hold. It might be better if more than one did. Some other positions, yes, one person should hold them for administrative reasons. And frankly, having a second Ghul might suit us well."
"Yeeeeeeep." Except when it wasn't, but they both knew that was usually already A Bad Scene. "I won't pretend to be the right person to try to get what we can out of them, but seeing as how I'm planning on doing my damnedest to cut that cord, I'd lean towards the whole questions'n'opportunity line of thinking, myself. And then Alexis explains the lack of dictums surrounding how many Ghuls is too many.
Pause.
"H-uh." Thoughtful, lingering. "I hadn't thought of that. I just sorta assumed that all the big jobs were one-woman-band deals unless otherwise stated. Though- all things considered, yeah, you're probably right that maybe we don't leave just one person with those tasks." Unless, as apparent by her previous remarks, that one person is her, in which case she's apparently all for it. "Uh. Well! That's the why, anyway. Since you asked. Lots of work and a lack of politically-directed problem solving imagination!" Beat. "Listen, I'm absolute garbage at subtext so on the off chance that was a job offer," she stated, adopting a stagewhisper to end on "-the answer's yes."
"It's no secret that if Liane Fuchs finds a hint of news on the location of the love of her life, she'll take off in search of Baron. She made no secret of that when Buidhe gave her the job, and she's left multiple times before to go follow leads. So far, no dice, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't change tomorrow, and if it does? She might not come back, for any number of reasons. So not having an empty chair if and when she gets her next piece of hopefully-good news? I count that as a win."
Alexis leans back in her chair, gives Johnnie the most thoughtful of looks. "It is not so much a job offer as a question, and an openness to seeing how you fit in the job."
"So, given that you are interested, let's talk about how to give you a test run."
"OOOooooh, I always wanted to try out one of those unpaid internships I've heard so much about. Wasn't a thing when I was around Before, blew my mind when I got back. Since when did businesses need people to work for free?" She snorted in delighted, derisive laughter, clearly aimed corporation-ward, not at her liege. "Brilliant piece of scammery. Not that this is at all similar, I just wanted to chatter~" Johnnie smiled brightly, her grin as ever just a touch sharper than she meant it and hopefully taken well. "I'm always up for a run, and if I can multitask and avoid the essay portion, all the better. What did you have in mind?"
There's a moment when Alexis looks -- confused, at first, but at the end of it, when Johnnie laughs in that derisive laughter, she seems to catch on to the joke, and shakes her head in amusement, picking up her tea again and cradling it in her long fingers as text runs over them. "Let's see how you do in tracking down evidence of the other Helldivers. You can do it yourself, or work with others. Find what you can, and see if you can figure out a solution. You won't be the only one working on a solution, but it's also not a race. You don't get points for finishing first, or even being the one who finds the solution. I just want to see how you work."
"Don't worry." Simply stated. "I wouldn't rush this. This is-" She tilts her head a moment, to think. "- the sort of thing I think I dreamt of. When it was me on the leash. That someone would swoop in and find a way to get me loose. The fact we tried and failed is probably a point in our favor, but it also means we gotta play smart. We get close and fuck it up, we won't see the kid again, period. A cocky Faerie will dangle the toy on the chain again; a threatened one will not. So when we try, it's gotta work. The first time. And- don't worry," she reassures. "I did catch that the job isn't to free the kid. It's to find evidence, fact-find. I'm just- sharing. I know I come across about as serious as an cocktail umbrella? But this?" A shake of the head. "Not a joke."
"The eventual job is to free the kid, if we can. But ... right now, we want to figure out who's sending said kid, and ... protect our own. Because we can't save anyone if we're not safe ourselves." Alexis presses her lips together, takes in a short, sharp breath. "Keep me in the loop, Ranger Drexel. You have my trust."
Not said aloud: Don't screw it up.
"I don't get that, often, Your Majesty." Trust, that was, she asserts as she stands, offering a bow, this time, polite and deliberate. "You'll find I don't waste it when I do. A pleasant evening, and sweet dreams when they come."
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