[IC] Changelings Anonymous

Changelings Anonymous

Chapter One

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The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick. A little warehouse, cozy but not too small, private and safe. It had spent a lot of time planning this meeting, and it was finally ready. It smiled - or it would have, if it had a body. It liked when people smiled, and liked to pretend that it smiled sometimes, too.

It had watched the Changelings for a while, now. It still remembered the first one it saw all those months ago, the little green one - that was its favorite. It hoped that she would come. It hoped that they would all come. It knew that that was a long shot, after what they'd been through, but still. It hoped.

They had all been contacted by it, in the last few days. The little green one, she'd seen a message spelled out on a foggy mirror. The angry one, the Beast, he'd found a note addressed to him, blowing down the street. Others had been addressed in other ways. It had gotten creative, and it was proud of the work it had put in to make this happen. They had all been given a time, and a place: Saturday, 4PM. The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick, Brooklyn.

One of them was here.

---

Nicholas didn't know what he was expecting, when he walked in the place. Actually, that wasn't true. He knew fully well what he expected - a trap, some snare left by the Princess to drag him back to the workshop and lock him in the darkness again. When some stranger handed him a note telling him to come to some warehouse in Brooklyn, he'd wanted to crumple it up and forget about it.

"But I didn't," he muttered, standing in front of the unassuming building door. "Not sure why. Guess I figured anything was better than living in a box and eating garbage. That's not true. I know that's not - talking to myself again." He clamped his mouth shut, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

Well, it didn't look like a trap. The inside of the warehouse was small, sparse, concrete floor, concrete roof, four load-bearing pillars. One of the walls was covered by a mirror, which Nicholas quickly glanced away from. He didn't need to be reminded of the tall, pale thing that would be looking back at him.

What was really interesting was what was in the center of the room - six metal folding chairs, arranged in a small circle, each one with a tiny scrap of paper on it. He approached slowly, snatching up one of the papers like it would burn him, and brought it up to his face, pulling down his sunglasses to read it.

'My Name Is' Nicholas

Part of him wanted to run right then and there, but fortunately it was outweighed by the part that really wanted to see what was happening here. He swallowed sharply and lowered himself into the chair, pulling his thin knees up to be held in his too-long arms. "I'm not scared," he murmured softly to himself. "Not too scared to wait."

[Medjedovic]

Michael Liam

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Saturday, 4PM. The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick, Brooklyn

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He stood across the street from the warehouse and watched its entrance, feeling cold sweat tickle down from his armpits. His heart was beating rapidly and from the depths of his mind a voice was shouting at him that he shouldn’t be here and that he made a mistake by coming. The whole thing smelled of Fae shenanigans and in spite of the pledge the Marquise made nothing stopped other members of the Gentry to come and try to take the Arena champion for themselves. But still, that piece of paper intrigued him and his curiosity outweighed his paranoia.

Michael came here earlier than 4PM – the time written on the note that so mysteriously found its way into his hands – so he could snoop around the place and see if there was anything suspicious about it. After spending an hour wrecking his legs walking around, watching every rooftop and alley like an idiot, he concluded that at least outside there was nobody waiting in ambush. That is at least what he told himself.

However, when he returned back to the warehouse he saw a tall pale monstrosity enter it, which is why he was now hesitant to do the same. Now, he knows he himself isn’t the prettiest sight, but goddamn was that thing eerie. It also posed a question: was that a Fae, another changeling, or something else? The thing was not trying to be particularly stealthy about entering the warehouse and it also came at 4PM, so maybe it is in the similar predicament as Michael…

Well, only one way to find out.

Before he began crossing the street, Michael pulled the baseball bat out of his backpack and gave it a swing. If that thing wasn’t intent on being friendly then it will feel shitload of pain. Michael totally wasn’t being paranoid and on the verge of bolting from this street, this county and this state. No sir. He was just being precocious.

Once across he slowly opened the door, his bat ready to bludgeon the first even remotely hostile-looking thing he laid his eyes on. Fortunately, no violence was necessary at this point in time. The creature he saw enter the warehouse earlier was sitting on a chair, looking every bit as nervous as Michael felt, which eased his tension a little. Still, he didn’t lower his guard and letting the warehouse door close behind him he pointed at the creature with the bat and spoke:

“What- Whatareyou?”

Jesus do I sound scared shitless. His voice broke after the first word and the rest of the sentence came out like a blurred mess. It was a question if the other... person even understood him correctly, but Michael didn't feel confident enough to repeat himself if he absolutely didn't have to.

[coffeetime]

An abandoned warehouse probably wasn't the kind of place any solitary female should go to, much less one with a particularly nasty fairy in her history. Bridget mused over this as she stood across from it, taking in it's decrepit appearance. She could barely wrap her head around the amount of stupidity that had brought her here in the first place - a message, scrawled on the mirror in the bathroom at work. It was the stuff of horror movies... at least that's what her co-worker had said when she told her about it. Bridget had never seen a horror movie. She'd been too young before her kidnapping, and lately her life seemed horrific enough. She had traced over the words on the mirror with her finger and heard their song - the kind of song she sometimes heard that others didn't. The music had been strange, but didn't seem threatening. It made her long to know more. However, now that she was here, she felt very stupid and very scared.

Bridget fumbled for a cigarette - a nasty habit she had picked up during her days of homelessness. The heat of the cigarette on her lips had helped to distract her from the cold in those days, and many other things. She blew a line of smoke out with satisfaction and closed her eyes. It also made her feel human. She liked to feel human. She stood like that for a while, stalling and letting her thoughts wander, before crushing the cigarette under her foot. Now, it was game time.

Bridget had gathered a series of objects for this moment in hopes they might protect her somehow.

1. A rabbit's foot
2. A container of salt for throwing over her shoulder
3. a jar of possibly holy water, though probably not real holy water
4. a cross necklace
5. pepper spray (purchased today, when the idea of entering an abandoned warehouse dawned on her)

Quickly she tossed a handful of salt over her shoulder (supposed to cancel out bad luck) and headed for the door. Her legs felt weak and shaky and her hands glistened with sweat as she grabbed for the doorknob and headed inside.

Upon entering, her eyes fell upon two strange figures - A tall, monstrous looking white figure, and what looked like half of a goat and half of a man. She stepped back immediately in a panic, accidentally ramming her head against the already closed door. A yelp of pain left her mouth and she grabbed her head, tears springing to her eyes as she held an internal debate about whether or not they were here to hurt her.

"Yes" She thought. They were probably going to hurt her. Her hands wrapped protectively around the pepper spray in her pocket.

[Pathfinder]

Peter

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Saturday, 4PM. Williamsburg and Bushwick, Brooklyn

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Peter was hopelessly, frustratingly lost. It was only by the grace of several strangers that Peter was even able to get this far, the mysterious tape recorder being useless outside getting directions from people who could actually read. Distress began to crawl up his spine, causing his shoulders to tense uncomfortably. It was not unlike that feeling he got when he got lost in the grocery store as a kid, the whole situation made him feel very, very small.

With a grunt Peter shook it off, instead focusing on the hunger pangs that had begun to shoot through his system earlier today. It had been awhile since his last "meal" and while the thought of more dumpster diving wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, the food was usually pretty good compared to whatever he was given in Burgentuckung's mines. Take the small victories where you one, one supposes. Fishing into his pocket, Peter dug out the note that someone wrote for him while he asked for directions.

"The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick." it said, or that's what Peter thought it said at least. He decided to do what he could and tried to match the symbols on the paper with those on the signs and silently cursed his illiteracy for the hundredth time in the last month. It didn't take much time for him to find something, though it didn't come with his budding reeducation in the written language, but in a green, plant like person throwing something behind them before entering a building. This sight alone probably meant that he was in the right place and Peter was getting tired of reading anyway.

He quickly made his way to the door and opened it a little too harshly in his haste, bumping his head into the doorframe before blundering into the green lady from outside.

[BubblegumQueen]

Robin

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Saturday, 4PM. The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick, Brooklyn

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Why am I doing this? Why in the world am I doing this? This-this is a stupid and idiotic decision. What if it was a trap? Okay, well, the odds of it being a trap from my old 'playmate' in order to bring me back are slim. After all, he isn't smart enough to write and seems a bit too antisocial to have people do it for him. Odds of it being him are quite... low. BUT, it's still a stupid decision and I just... why am I still here?

Now, Robin was usually smarter then this... honest. In fact, after having the mysterious invitation follow her around until she finally picked it up... she was initially going to ignore it. Rip it up and then burn it just to be safe. And she was well on that path to, planning to do it as soon as she got home from her weekly lunch with one of her only friends. (She'd even taken it with her so as to not forget.) Her only friend being a nice older woman in her late 50's named Landis. Some found it weird that she spent time with the older woman but, personally, Robin felt right at home with her.

She'd dressed up and was on her way to the small cafe they usually met at. However, it wasn't until she was walking that she remembered why the surrounding area poked at her so much... It was the same general area that the invitation had invited her to. Against her will, she found herself walking in the direction of where the note instructed. Corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick, the letter had said for directions.

She knew New York like the back of her hand after many sleepless nights, wandering around the city with no general direction in mind.

The whole way she kept asking herself about why she was doing this. Sure, it might not be her captor. But, it could be. And if not him, then it could be some other fae leading her to her doom. Or maybe some other kind of supernatural threat, she was pretty open-minded these days. Either way, this was idiotic of her. And while she may be reckless, she wasn't an idiot. So... what was she thinking?

The only answer she could come up with was curiosity and maybe some kind of hope. Who knows, maybe it'll be something good? Sure, it's doubtful and she knows her mother would scold her for having such unrealistic thoughts. But, she just couldn't help it. She knew that she would regret never going to the 'address'. Never seeing what it was for herself.

So, it was due to these thoughts that she ended up where she was now... standing in front of this sketchy-looking warehouse. Raising an eyebrow, Robin looked around her. She was half-expecting herself to be on one of those awful television shows she remembered some of her coworkers at work discussing. She didn't remember the details but this whole thing sounded similar to something they'd said. But, the spinning in her stomach was evidence of her not believing that idea.

Individually cracking her fingers to try and relax herself, she fished out her phone from one of the many pockets on her skirt. Taking a moment, she fumbled with the device quite embarrassingly so before she managed to send a text to Landis. She sometimes felt a little silly at the knowledge that a 50-something years old woman was more capable with technology then she was. But, then she'd remember how old she really is and would give herself some lenience.

Sorry Landis, I'm afraid I must cancel our lunch. Please forgive me for I hope we reconcile at a later time. Sorry once more.

Pleased with the text, she put the phone back into her pocket before looking back up at the warehouse. Taking a deep breath, Robin mentally tried to shake off any fears and muster up that confidence. Opening her eyes, she nodded to herself before marching towards the door. Briefly hesitating, the woman opened the door...

... and nearly passed out.

There was... an outstandingly tall man with blackened flesh who could be what Robin would imagine a burnt-alive giant to look like... should she have imagined that for whatever reason. Fire was clearly some kind of connection and... it was horrifying if not somewhat fascinating in some very small part of her brain shoved in a cupboard.

Then... a green woman. Well, the first thing Robin thought of was plants. From the vine-like patterns in her skin to the thin frame. She got a flash of herself working on her own garden years prior. There was an ache in her chest that made her fingers twitch. She averted her gaze quickly.

Then, there was this... half-goat and half-man. And a tail. An actual tail. He reminded her of an Satyr to be honest and she felt that annoying curiosity poke it's head out all... curious. She had to mentally kick it back in the cupboard for this one. He seemed... a bit frightened... understandably so if her theory is correct. But, she'll get to that soon enough.

Lastly, there was a similarly very tall (Was everyone taller than her? Honestly, with these heels she's about 5'5. Even then, she's dwarfed by about everyone here. Without them? Oh, imagine if she'd worn flats.) man who looked to be one of the most terrifying. He almost reminded her of this creature from a story one of her coworkers had rambled to her about. Someone called... slenderman? Tallman? Something like that. And after seeing a picture... yes, that description worked quite well. Of course, with very sharp claws and actual eyes... endless black but still.

Somehow managing to bring her eyes away from them, she moved towards the left while sticking to the wall. There were six chairs with pieces of paper on them. One of the others, the slenderman one, was sitting in one of them. Huh, guess this is some kind of... therapy session or something similar? I-I believe I've seen this in some kind of film... but what was it? Pushing her failing memory to the side, she glanced at the left wall she was inching towards... a wall of mirrors.

Against her will, she was brought face to face with her... real self. She eyed her cracked skin and porcelain appearance with a frown before quickly looking away. Comforting, she thought somewhat sarcastically before glancing at the others. Perhaps they were... like her?

"The plot thickens..." She'd mumbled, thumb idly toying with her ring as she stood off to the side.

[Medjedovic]

Michael Liam

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Saturday, 4PM. The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick, Brooklyn

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As the newcomers entered the warehouse in a somewhat comical manner that made Michael barely able to restrain his laugh despite of his nervousness, one thing that he noticed was the common theme in all of their reaction to seeing him and others who came before them was – suspicion and unease. Even panic, in the case of the thin green girl – Michael nicknamed her Ivy in his mind. This prompted him to ease his own fear and he lowered his bat as he let out a slight sigh of relief. Although he was still ready to spring into action if things turned out dangerous, at this point Michael was 99% sure that everyone present was in similar predicament as he was.

“I think w-we are all in the same, the same situation h-here, but still, I-I want to, want to check something,” he spoke, darting with his eye nervously from one person to the next. “You all, all got the note, r-right? The-the one that said to come, to come to this warehouse, is that right?"

The volume of his voice was like a rollercoaster, starting low until he realized he may be difficult to hear and then he would suddenly increase it to the point of shouting, only to fall back to near-whispering when he stopped thinking about it, and the whole process would repeat. Michael became aware of this once he finished asking his questions and he felt his face turning hot from embarrassment, which itself further fuelled his embarrassment until he felt the urge to bash his own skull with the bat. His grip on it did tighten, but he managed to restrain himself from further action because he knew that he would look even more stupid if he began hitting himself in front of the other four people.

I really hope the light here is too dim for them to see my face... Now I wish that they are the Fae and I can just beat the shit out of them and run away.

[coffeetime]

Bridget only had a moment to ponder her fate before being bumped into by a newcomer as they opened the door. Her hand remained firmly gripped around her pepper spray as she moved out of the way, and an uncomfortable mix of embarrassment and fear filled her. The man who had bumped into her was as strange as the others she'd seen, scorched, with flames spilling out of his mouth and eye socket. Then again, who was she to judge someone's appearance, she thought, reminding herself of her inhuman skin color. Even so, it looked painful. She wondered if the flames hurt as they scorched his skin, and she felt a twinge of pity. Moments later, a girl slipped through the door, the most human looking character here, but cracks across her skin showed that she too, was somehow different. Bridget traced the girl's movements with her eyes as she travelled around the room.

The silence was broken when the half man, half goat, spoke.

“I think w-we are all in the same, the same situation h-here, but still, I-I want to, want to check something,” he spoke, darting with his eye nervously from one person to the next. “You all, all got the note, r-right? The-the one that said to come, to come to this warehouse, is that right?"

The stutter in his voice made her feel at ease. He too, was nervous and uncomfortable. Her hand relaxed it's grip on the pepper spray and she gathered the courage to respond.

"I got it" She squeaked, in a quiet voice, it's pitch raised by her nerves. Luckily the silence in the room allowed her to be audible, echoing slightly against the warehouse walls. Her eyes traveled to the circle of chairs, and then to the other people(?) standing around the room. "There's six chairs...but we're only five.." She spoke the words, not looking at anyone in particular, but instead, staring intently at the floor. She was still a bit nervous to look any of them in the eye.