World of Darkness: Balance of Power - Child's Play

[z-Stephanie]

In the macabre world of the Lost, appearances could be deceiving. In particular, the mask and the mien could cloud even the simplest of issues. A tired, run-down stripper could be only moderately appealing, until she dropped her mask and revealed the shining creature of lust and pleasure. A quiet, mousy man could be an ogre. And the child could be a wizened.

In Stephanie’s case, looking like a child meant that she was, at least in physical form. It was a kind of safety – most adults didn’t question a child playing imaginary games, but there was the occasional do-gooder who decided to find the child’s parents. Stephanie had managed to avoid any encounters with Social Services so far, but it was fucking annoying.

She pulled herself back into the bushes a little further as a teen couple walked by, arguing whether Lady Gaga was a hermaphrodite or not. Stephanie had a vague idea of what they were talking about; one of the Spring Court had cornered her one evening and gossiped with her about all the teen tabloids. He’d been mocking her, but she didn’t have the leverage to make him stop. It was depressing. She was thirty-something; she shouldn’t have to deal with punks like that.

Her whole situation was depressing, honestly. The eternal child – or at least life-long child. She wasn’t some damned vampire child to live forever; she was just the kidnap victim of a Brothers Grimm protagonist on crack. And if she didn’t prove her worth to the freehold soon, she was going to be treated like shit for that long life.

That was what led her here, standing in the snow outside an apartment building, waiting. He had a hallow in the Hedge, but she knew better than to go there alone. Finding his apartment had been harder; she’d had to track him down the more old-fashioned way – asking around court to get a general area, then talking to people in a neighborhood. Finally, she’d found a kid who told her about the ‘giant’ who lived in this building. The ‘giant’ matched her description of his mask, so the odds were it was him. Still, she wanted to see him first, to be sure.

Shivering, she pulled her black hoodie around her more tightly and wished she’d worn another shirt under it. She had precious few clothes to wear, mostly what members of the Freehold had scavenged for her. Come on, she pleaded. Just get here, already, Adam!

[Adam]

The one called 'Adam', as if formed from her thoughts, came into view just moments later. Down the cold avenue he walked with a pretty young girl keeping up pace with him. She seemed to be doing all the talking as he just moved along, step after step along the wet sidewalk.

True enough to the tales 'Adam' was every bit as much the giant that they gave him credit for. The girl in the bushes saw him without his mask however, realizing she'd never seen a Changeling like him before. Tall and powerfully built it was a wonder the clothing he wore wasn't tearing under the might of what was beneath it. Seven feet tall and half of that in width his skin was blue and his long black hair was braided neatly to fall down his back. The defining trait (besides the immense size) of the strange Ogre -and he had to be some kind of Ogre!- were the large horns that jutted from his forehead, arching back over his head with a second set splitting out from those and curling back around his ears. It was no wonder for her to easily guess how he'd won every game at the Feast of Strength, held every August 11st, two-years running. For all his prowess though everyone claimed he was a bit of a recluse and kept mostly to himself, being seen only two or three times a year.

As the pair approached the steps of his apartment building the energetic young woman ran ahead to the steps next door leading up to up to the neighboring building. She stopped to face him and waved before running up them while digging for keys.

"Thanks again Adam!" She smiled at him as she hit the stuck door with her hip and entered.

"T'was my pleasure Lady Staci." He said aloud, but she was already inside. He smiled warmly and shook his head a bit at the energy the girl possessed despite her rather depressing life.

He turned to his own steps, fumbling to find the right key as well and took a few steps up towards the apartment building's front door...

[z-Stephanie]

He was like a dream. She'd heard of his height and girth, and those horns. It made her a little sad that the mortals couldn't see it. What they hadn't told her - or hadn't had words for - was his face. It was beautiful - masculine and perfect. Stephanie felt a tingle that started in her stomach and radiated outward. He's... so hot.

Not that it mattered. The familiar curl of self-loathing rippled in her stomach. With a sigh, she pushed aside her personal considerations and desires and stepped forward. Hoping that no needles were sticking to her clothes, she darted across the street and called softly, "Adam?"

When the Ogre turned, the tiny Fairest gave him a tremulous smile. "Hello, my name is Stephanie." To the large Changeling, a child with unnatural pink hair stood before him. Her eyes were large and her skin pale, as if she'd never been touched by the sun. She wore second-hand clothing, much of it poorly fitting. She shivered a little, her hands trust deep in the pocket of her hoodie. Jeans and Keds with no socks were also visible. "I'm with the local gathering of our kind... and I had a question for you. Can we talk? Somewhere private?"

[Adam]

She had caught him off guard, not only with her dizzying cuteness but with her mention of 'our kind'. Normally the Changelings of the city left him well enough lone unless Goldscale needed his strength for some task, but even then, that was rare.

He took a moment to look her over and the only appraisal his mind could wrap around was 'pathetic'. From her second hand clothing to her sockless feet shivering body as she stood without the proper protections from the winter elements. As was typical for the large blue ogre, his heart immediately sank in his chest. No child, changeling or no, should live this way.

His noble bearing seemed to shadow her even in the darkness of night. "Ineed we may, child. Come," his head tilted towards the door. "T'is warm enough inside let us get you out of the chill and the dampness. If a tale dances heavily upon the tip of your tongue then let us not keep it waiting, lest it grow bored and dance away."

It was the typical awkward silence that strangers normally share when suddenly having to deal the others presence. Neither really shared much more than what they had at the steps as they climbed their way up to the third floor by way of the stairs. The elevator was broke, not that it surprised her, and the building itself looked like it should have been condemned ages ago. news papers, cigarette packs and the often discarded scraps of random garbage were all packed tightly out of the walking path but it wasn't just the stairs; the filth was everywhere in this building.

Adam's apartment was different. Although nothing was new, it was clean and in good shape. His early eighties couch smelled of Febreeze and had decorative afghan tossed over the back, neatly folded. He owned a television, even a couple video game consoles that never got played in a vain attempt to 'blend in' with the modern world. The walls were freshly painted in soothing earth tones and she could see small variations in the coat where he had to patch up the plaster in the wall before he could paint over it. The kitchen was clean and gave off the scent of lemon scented cleaner both from the floor and counter tops. The place was immaculately cleaned.

"Welcome to my home Lady Stephanie of 'Our People'." His voice was again deep and rich nearly swooning the adult child all over again. "Respect it and it shall respect you." He slipped off his coat, revealing exactly how thick his arms were under that jacket, the thickness the mortal world didn't get to see. Adam seemed chiseled to perfection, as if strength was his only reason for creation. "Visitors are welcome, but I admit to them being rare. Let us commemorate our meeting with food, drink, and conversation. My ears are the stage upon which your tongue may dance til it is tired."

She had too wonder if he thought that last line out...

Without slowing down however he strode to the kitchen and opened the fridge and collected the utensils he'd need for up coming feast of eggs and pancakes. He assumed the girl was hungry but it would have been rude to call her on her poverty or disheveled appearance. His heart knew only virtue and his cursed gripped him tightly as he vowed inwardly to see to it this poor child was fed, had shelter at least for the evening, and appropriate clothing to endure the harsh Kansas winter.

As he prepared the meal he poured them each a tall glass of milk. "Tell me Lady Stephanie of 'Our People', how is it I can be of assistance to one so fair?"

[z-Stephanie]

Nervously, Stephanie followed the Ogre up the stairs, noting exits and hiding spots as she went. Had it not been for Adam, she would have fled right back to the shack she was living in. These were the kinds of places that showed up on the news with the caption 'Six children disappeared from the apartment building'. She hovered close to Adam, but not for the usual reasons this time.

The interior of his apartment was a pleasant surprise, and Stephanie relaxed - a little. The derringer was heavy in the back of her pants, the only gun small enough for her to manage one-handed. She'd heard stories that Adam was a Loyalist, but just as many that he wasn't. She was willing to take the risk.

Sure, Big Guy, I'll dance my tongue in your ear all night, Stephanie thought, then blushed and cleared her throat. None of that, now. You're just going to make yourself crazy.

She hopped up into a chair at the table, then crossed her legs so her feet wouldn't swing. "Well, I wanted to ask for your help in something. I know that Goldenscale will be coming to you soon for aid; with the threat from the hobgoblins, he's going to need every fighter he can get. And I'd like to talk to you about going to him, instead... with your motley. The one you'd make with me."

She played with the edge of her glass as she quickly added, "I need someone to protect me, and you're alone. People think I might be a Loyalist because they think I'm just a kid and I've heard the same about you. No one else will make a motley with me." Her voice was rough with anger and disappointment as she added, "No one else trusts me enough, or thinks that I can do anything because of how I look."

She sighed and added, "I know this is a big decision, but I hope you'll be open to talking about it at least?"

[Adam]

The spatula rubbed the bottom of the skillet as he shuffled the eggs about to prevent them from sticking. He looked at the vibrant pink-haired and eyed 'child' as if taking an inventory of her attributes. Short, cute, twelve. "My mind is not closed to any topic, however, before I'll make such a bond I have to make sure that those I'm bonding with are of a character akin to my own."

"Let us eat and enjoy one anothers' company. Use the opportunity to discover if the accord of forming a Motley is truly something we desire at night's end." His smile was charming as looked at her once more. "First and foremost, Lady Stephanie, I am not a Loyalist. I was, at one time, Honorbound to one of he Gentry, this holds true to all of us, in a sense."

He moved through the kitchen causing the floorboards to creak as his massive weight strained the old joists. "However, as we both know, the Gentry, while incredibly powerful, are not infallible. Once my oath was fulfilled she never realized it and never renewed it. I was free to leave her service, and I did. Loyalist? No my young friend, I would plunge my blade through the heart of any being that came through that Hedge to do 'our people' harm, mark my words. We've earned this freedom, all of us, and I'll stand proud and tall to defend it."

His words were spoken with such enthusiasm that she wondered if he was going to pluck up a sword and run out into the streets screaming for hobgoblin blood. But there was something how he spoke, a message, a fact that she found almost impossible to believe. Truth. 'Adam' was dead honest in every word that passed his lips, the words proclaimed him ready to lay down his life for changelings, both good or bad, on the simple principal that they deserved to be free from their masters. It was one thing to live a charmed existence, but this guy was just wow.

He scooped up the eggs, slid off the pancakes, snipped up a few strips of bacon. "You, and I do beg your forgiveness if my observation is a rude one m'lady, I mean no offense, appear rather disheveled. I would hear how you came to such a state and why others feel you are incapable of things simply because of how you look."

[z-Stephanie]

Stephanie listened to Adam, half-entranced by his way of speaking and half-caught in the simple pleasure of having someone talk to her. Adam seemed incapable of treating anyone with rudeness, so even if he continued to treat her as a child, he was still treating her as a person. She was about to explain a bit more about her circumstances when he asked her another question and derailed her.

With a frustrated sigh, Stephanie said, “Well, I’m essentially a kid. I can’t do anything, because I draw more attention than adults do. I’m shorter and weaker than most of the Summer Court – those morons who think that rage equals berserker barbarian and don’t realize that a warrior is a warrior, regardless of looks or even age!” Steph was off, rolling on a rant that had long bothered her. “So I can’t drive my fists through brick! That doesn’t mean I don’t want to defend against the Fae! It doesn’t mean I can’t do something of value. But those assholes don’t like me, and Mother Swan won’t let me without a sponsor. No other member of the court needs ‘sponsorship’ and it’s all because I’m a fuckin’ kid!”

She tugged angrily at the front of her shirt. “And this! I’m reduced to whatever scraps people will throw me. I can’t buy anything – no money – and I can’t even go ask for it at a shelter, because I’ll be snatched up into foster care.” She’d often thought it’d be a good way to coast along for a while, but it was bound to cause problems when she didn’t age. She propped her chin in her hand and sighed, “This sucks.”

[Adam]

He grimmaced at her. "M'Lady, please. Such language doesn't fit a proper princess of the Summer Court. A foul tongue is the result of a unfocused anger and aggression. While I admire your passion young lady we must set about working on your focus so that you might cleanse your mind of such vulgarity."

He walked over to her and slid a plate in front of her, kneeling down he rest a massive hand upon her shoulder. "I do not doubt your strength, my fairest Stephanie. Come, tell me more as we feast. My ears burn with the desire to know your tale." He stood and collected his own plate, heaped with more food than her tiny stomach could fathom holding. "And I assure you My Fairest, we'll get you properly attired before presenting you to Mother Swan."

[z-Stephanie]

Stephanie was so caught off guard by his reproach against vulgarity that she just stared at him instead of showing him what cursing really was. Then he touched her shoulder, and she found herself eye-to-eye in a very intimate connection with the gorgeous Changeling. "Buh," she managed to say as he rose from his knees and took his seat.

"Um, well, about me? I was kidnapped when very young by one of them and somehow found my way back." She shifted her food around on her plate. "I don't remember much, honestly. That's how it is for a lot of us," she added, remembering that he did know, somewhat. "But I've only been back a short time, and most of that has been convincing the court that I don't need to be treated like a Loyalist or a retard." She brushed pink hair back behind an ear and sighed. "I really wanna be useful, ya know? I was gonna be a cop, when I grew up. Now..." She stared down at the tiny hands that would never grow up.

"What about you?" she asked, shoveling some food into her mouth and trying to move past the discomfort of talking about herself. "Where are you from, before?"