[Sodium_noir] a Day in the Life of Silk

[Spikey]

Inner Sanctum, Silken Solutions Tower, Gotham
Silk
Sluagh

Silk carefully rereads the information he has on Lord Mordraine, then makes some "calls" about who else is likely to be in attendance while he waits for his car to be ready. Silk replaces his hat onto the top of his head, checks the angle in a mirror, then grabs his cane and heads off down the elevator and onwards to the funfair. 

According to his intel, most of the major powers have sent representatives to the opening of the Unseelie freehold, but few are attending in person. Perhaps this is a slight to the ne Lord or a reticence to give him thier full approval. The names worthy of attention are mostly local to Gotham or the satelite town of Bludhaven. The Satyr Witch Pandora, respected members of the Sluagh colony, itinerants and Kinain from the shanty town on the Isle of crabs. 

One name did catch his attention though. Feralyn ap Ailil, a noble from Bludhaven. The young Sidhe's saining was less than three years past and the fact that his Freehold and his leiege sent him spoke of some underlying alliance or treaty between them and the Unseelie of Gotham. 

[tag Silk]


[I figure that Silk is slightly behind the other people, hence the half an hour.]

Seems fair, will also allow us to drop Silk intot he Fun fair thread as it is now. having missed the announcements and being fashionably late but still meet Mordraine on his way out to the party. All the Changeling plots seem to be trailing behind the midnight time spot the rest of the scenes are taking place at, but its not an issue. :)

for completeness sake I have included the introduction post tot he carousel thread below so you can choose when to enter and be up to speed. 

The Isle of Crabs Fun Fair

[Closed for repairs]

The Isle of Crabs

Dusk



You clamber up 
And look behind 
Their watchful eyes 
The helping hands 



Kurt Morgan stepped out of his night black Jaguarand headed towards the worksite, leaving the mundane world behind. As he picked his way between piles of scaffolding and avoided muddy ruts in the ground Kurt Morgan of Morgan consulting slipped away from his mind to be replaced by Lord Mordraine, scion of House Ailil and current leader of the Unseelie Court in Gotham. While mortals saw him bedecked in black silk shirt and tight pants, the fae that crept from the shadows to greet him were treated to a true Noble in black Armour and swirling cloak of shadowy darkness.



Hastily erected lighting hangs from the fairground, sending beams off at odd angles and dappling the sideshows with disturbing images. Engineers and artists both fae and Enchanted had worked day and night since he arrived to metamoprhasis the burnt and rusty remains of the Funfair into what it was today. Still unfinished, but far closer to completion than the cities estimates had predicted. The huge haunted mansion centre peice, housing an indoor rollercoaster in utter darkness, was complete. In physicality at least.


A hen that's fierce 
And painted blue 
With red eyes 
Wants to swallow you 



Riva, Mordraines Chimerical hawk, soars above the funfair looking for prey, a small mortal bird that it can frighten with a brief glimpse at its unreal shape. But Riva is only the Dream of a hunting bird, a wisp of an idea of a companion, and so it cannot truly hunt in this land. Most of the Autumn worlders will never even see her, but she sees them. Darting through the Funfair she spies on the mortal workmen and the Commoner artisans. And then once she has surveyed the Kingdom, she wheel about and returns to her master.



A dragon dives and soars on tracks 
The hands that strap you to its back 
You turn around and look behind 
Their smiling eyes 
Won't help you down 



Mordraine stands the newly restored 'Black Hole' rolercoaster ride with his arm outstretched, allowing the hawk to land upon it with a sharp cry of greeting. She speaks to him, tells him of what she sees, but nobody else hears her speak. Perhaps she doesn't and Lord Mordraine only thinks she talks to him. But with the faerie, there is little difference between belief and fact.



Her voice reports to him on how the Court is gathering, slinking towards him and the Black Hole that will soon again become thier Freehold. Their Court. She is his eyes and ears, the only one a noble of his court can trust. She is also his confidant and his constant reminder that even in the cloying waters of city politics and bearocracy, he is a child of the Dreaming. Her survey of the funfair brings a cold smile to his thin lips, lighting up his handsome face.



His vision is coming to fruition. The Unseelie court will libve again. After this little gathering he has plans to head over tot he Seelie Freehold, to the Court of Miracles and the foraworn Sidhe Rasindog. Rumour has it that a new Pooka girl has taken to playing her Violin there and even singing a little and he hopes to mix bussiness with pleasure. Followed by mixing pleasure with bussiness; an invite to one of Lady Sinclair's luxurious gatherings. 



Their tiny hands 
Their tiny feet 
Such little hearts 
To miss a beat 



While Mordraine recieves the words of his Chimerical companion, another Sidhe watches. A Young man, barely eighteen in his mortal seeming, Feralyn ap Ailil rests against a candy striped awning and watches the rabble gather. He was a noble, a high noble in fact, but unlike Mordraine he did not seek the adulation of the Commoners or the throne of Gotham. Not yet, not until he had more allies, more support. For now Feralyn was content to see what was once destroyed built up again, to aid the resurrection of the Fun fair. 



At his side a satyr maid named Pandora. last survivour of the old Court and once lover of the dead Baron. Baron Sin they used to call him, although his real name had been Maine Mílscothach which means "honey-speech. For almsot two decades he had been lord of Gotham's Unseelie, until the fire had laid them low. Feralyn had known him, even summered with him as a boy the year after he was sained. They had been on good terms and now Feralyn felt a sense of continuation that the baron's old lover shared his bed from time to time. 



The Fun fair was an Ailill holding, that was important to him. Had Mordraine been of any other house his patience would not have been so easy to maintain!



Grotesque dwarves in mirrored rooms 
Pulled and taut a thousand yous 
Staring back through stinging tears 
Remembering those funhouse thrills 



The Unseelie have gathered, Changelings from miles about swarmed to the Isle of Crabs in answer to the Lord's invite. Cowboy and Ratzo, the leaders of the work effort are granted a special place close to the lord, while visitors from other Courts gather in small enclaves. the survivours of the old Court mingle with those newly Chrystalised and with a wave of newcomers seeking a city without an entrenched hierarchy. 



For three years the Funfair has stood silent, brought to its knees by a fire that began in the Black Hole ride itself. To the mundane world, a terrible disaster that the worlds news reported as tragic. Unable to confirm the final death toll because the area was 'a hotbed of transients and drifters, criminal malcontents and undesirables'. To the Fae it had been the fall of the Shadow court, the death of Freedom and a mortal wound to the Dreaming itself. Few Unseelie Changelings had been absent when the Freehold was torched, and most of them attended the gathering with their Kinain families and enchanted pets. Mortal lovers, kidnapped performers and Dream slaves perished along with the Redcaps and Sluagh and myriad of Dream born.



The paintbox tunes and wild balloons 
Their watchful eyes, you start to swoon 
Oh painted vile in lurid hue 



The Ogre stands in silence, saving its limited brain power for the job at hand. In its giant paws it holds a small lamp, lit from the Balefire at Raindog's bar. A Balefire. For the time being the thoughts of murder and molestation that usualy occupy its desires are replaced by proximity to the balefire. The Dreaming itself elevates him. The Changelings around him gaze in awe at the lamp, knowing in their hearts what it represents. The awakening of the once dead Freehold, the return of the Dream. The return of the Unseelie.



Mordraine wanders among the crowd, pressing flesh and thanking visitors for coming. Ever the politician, the Sidhe surveys his vassals and strengthens his ties to the rest of the East Coast Unseelie. Eventually he has made a circuit of the thronged crowd, ushered through the ranks by murmors of aquisence and respect, and mounts the steps to a carousel. Set close to the entrance on the main boardwalk it mixes the old world charm of wooden horses with ultra modern technology. Each Horse has neon lights and slightly daring harnesses. Each is an individual work of art created by a Dreamer or fae.



The snarling horse that waits for you 

Its motor whirrs and colours curl 
Inside your head the monsters whirl 
Its motor whirrs and colours curl 
Inside your head the monsters whirl 



One by one he nods to his leutenats, and then to Cowboy in particular. The Knocker turns to a petrol generator chugging away by itself, and flicks a switch. 



The Fun fair comes to life, as ride after ride recieves the power it needs and burts into a multitude of lights and motion. Some are not yet ready to actually function, but at the very least the names have been lit and a few coloured bulbs hung about the skeleton of its body. But the big three, the Black Hole, the ferris wheel and the Silver Dragon roller coaster that winds its way about the entire park, all roar as they are awoken. 


The Carousel on which Mordraine had perched himself began to turn behind him, its lurid neon glow making his apparel seem all the brighter and reflecting in his silvered accesories. The presence of a Nobleman and the looks of a male model gave the mastermind of the Unseelie court the attention of the crowd.

In sucked out 
Time stood still 
Roundabout back 
Carousel 
Time stood still 
And you remember it well 
Carousel 

"My fellow Unseelie, courtiers, noble visitors and guests." His words were caught by some cleverly hidden microphone and sounded from the speakers and sound system of every ride and stall. "Too long has the Pageant gone unobserved. Too long have the Fae of Gotham been without a Court. Too long have the Dreams of this city of sin been allowed to fester and go unharvested. But the time to mourn is past, the time to hang our heads and to resist the turning of the world is over. It is time the children of the Dreaming celebrated life once more, time for the Pageant to begin anew."

The Crowd roared and cheered, aided by pre-recorded fevour and echoed ardour. In truth, this was just what the Unseelie of Gotham had been hoping for, a light at the end of the tunnel. A sign that they could drag themselves from past defeat.

"Winter is almost upon us, the season of Samhain is at hand. This is the time, in years gone by, that the Unseelie would take over the ruling of the worlds and would govern the fae in our half of the year. That ancient pact was broken by the Seelie, but here in Gotham where no Seelie rule, we shall reinstate it. Come October 31st I swear to you this funfair will be alive with people once more. But come morning, I shall have returned to you your Freehold!"

Again the cheers and whoops, the release of three years pain and fury. 

"With this Balefire I shall reconnect the old Court with its Dream Realm. Re-establish our home and our hearth. And with your consent, I shall ascend the dark Throne of Gotham and shoulder the responsibility of leadership. For a year and a day after this night I will strive to serve you and make you whole if you will serve me. After that time, if you are agreed, the choice of your leader will be yours to make again. How say you Dreams of the Unseelie?"

The cry was almost unanimous. It was mostly positive. They almost begged him to be thier Lord. If anybody disagreed with the appointment, they knew better than to voice such concerns. Hungry Redcaps and lusty Ogres waited for those who bucked the current mood. They all but carried Mordrain into the Black Hole ride, followed by the Ogre and the balefire. 

Inside, lit by smoky lanterns and white hot braziers was the court. Garlands hung from the metalic tracks and supports of the roller coaster, pennons of the Unseelie houses and the Black Rose of the Court. Chains and hooks dangled from the upper reaches while the walls were bedecked in weapons and arms, signs of the old days still remembered by the forward looking Unseelie. Unseen by mortal eyes during the day, the inner expanse was a riot of ultra modern decor mixed with baroque old world splendour. The centre of the vast area, the core of the ride, was a wrought-iron pillar, a tube with a holow centre. The foor of which was built around a pit for the Balefire and the tip of which supported the ceiling.  

At Mordraines command the Ogre shoved his brand intot hat central edifice and relit the Balefire. Its green hued flames dashed the shadows and brought the Freehold to life. The gathered Court cheered again.
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