Facing East

Anything you might want to try out that doesn't temporally or thematically fit the serial should go here. This is an ideal space for all your what-ifs and might-have-beens, as well as for your average silliness.
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IamLEAM1983
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Facing East

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The mists of the Gate had sprung up from the ground between Evergloam's outer pastures and another hill in another part of Faerie. Fingers of condensed water roiled close to the ground for an instant, long enough for those of Japan to faintly hear a Gruff's watchtower call and those of America to hear the stillness inherent to the eternal snows near Mount Fuji's midpoint. Oberon's Oriental snow blew onto Titania's eternal springtime flowers - and hooves beat the ground between both points. The carriage was neither here nor there for a moment, yet it still moved. Then, the mists parted.

To mortal eyes in their native plane, this would have been the slopes of the Fujiten Snow Resort, in southern Yamanashi Prefecture. There were no lifts to be found, however. No outdoors speakers, no modern hotels draped in the stereotypical airs of a Viennese ski lodge. The contours of the area conformed to what should've been expected, but Faerie's version of Mount Fuji was bigger, more imposing - the scale between its slopes almost multiplied by a factor of two. There were more trees, as well. The slope was dark with them, leaving only a narrow trail Vernon's Sidhe horse navigated by pushing its weight on the rear half of his hooves. Abundant white powder flew every which way as they half-descended, half-slid along. Looking down, you should've seen past Yamanashi and could have glimpsed at Tokyo's galaxy of electric lights - but Japan's metropolis was nowhere to be found. Only its sleepy and conservative twin, Edo, shone in the distance.

The trail the lorry followed placed it perpendicularly to the slopes leading to Edo, from a light descent to a progressive ascent. Behind them and to the side, the mists finished clearing and revealed the torii gate they'd surged out of. The horse hit a clump of packed snow, briefly making the cabin jostle.

"We're not headed to Edo, I take it?" noted Archie.

Vernon nodded in the negative. "We're taking you to Eien-no-Yuki; it roughly coincides with the Fujiten Resort. It packs a real bathhouse, for starters, as well as a Himeji-style temple. All the amenities to be expected are provided, a serving daimyo included. You're to meet Daisuke Urakawa's chief retainer and tactician, Sojubo Kurama. The bloke hasn't had much work beyond administrative drudgery for the past two hundred years; a Malk such as Urakawa-san isn't likely to need refresher courses in the art of war."

Archie sighed. "But I do. Are you sure you couldn't stop and introduce us, Milord?
- I've the first of many public audiences to draft, mister Holden. Like it or not, I have no business in Japan. I only followed along in order to see you off safely and to be able to report of your safe arrival back to your friends and colleagues. Besides, someone else you would be familiar with will be waiting for you, a short hike away from the village."

Holden was faintly amused. "My list of Japanese acquaintances is fairly short, Milord. One is technically out of commission, the other I have yet to formally meet - and the last one is someone I've scarcely heard of following the end of the Meiji Era.
- Business kept a mutual friend of ours in the heartland for a week," cryptically answered Haskill, smirking. "You'll see."

The Winter Lord looked to the werewolf and Transgenic. "I tried to open the farthest Gate I possibly could, but any mountain-climber could see it might be unwise to re-enter Faerie on sloped terrain. I've wheel axles to keep functional and passengers to avoid killing. We have a bit of climbing to do."

Archie chanced another look outside. "Springtime is well established in Tokyo by now. You would believe there to be less snow...
- Under Oberon's watchful eye, all snows are eternal," noted Vernon. "You're not without knowing his Winter can be fairly mild, however.
- The Hearth," replied the spy, nodding in the affirmative. "Cold enough for some ruggedness to instill itself, but not so much as to chill a Sidhe's heart."

Vernon nodded. "If these slopes belonged to Mab - or Yuki-Onna, as she's known in these lands, we wouldn't be able to see past my horse's nose. We wouldn't have such beautiful stars, either."

Archie looked up, again craning his neck outside. Without overt visual pollution, the Eastern hemisphere's constellations were as clear as day, along with several planets and a sizable chunk of the Milky Way's arm.
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Re: Facing East

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Aspasia's amber-colored eyes seemed a bit brighter as they looked out the window, the orange and gold hues mimicking the joyous dance of a candle flame. "Climbing the slope shouldn't be a problem for me," she admitted, looking harmlessly cheeky in case someone thought her arrogant. "But this place will do wonders for you, Holden."

She shifted her gaze to the automaton, her happiness quelling just slightly to indicate the empathy she displayed toward his situation. "While I know the fauns of old were loyal to the Queen Titania of their day, Eien-no-Yuki still holds a special place in my heart. When I left Chimera Row, Evergloam didn't feel like quite the place to start my journey of self-exploration. It indeed doesn't have the frozen and barren wasteland that Darkest Winter does, but it's still an excellent location of reflection. I don't know the precise factors of what caused me to briefly connect with my inner Wyldfae, but there's something here that allowed me to tap into it enough to save Lord Urakawa's life after the battle with Mab's forces. I'm grateful for that, and I believe it will reinvigorate you to stand against the coming storm."

Crystal had joined in admiring the constellations and planets in the nocturnal sky and returned her eyes to her lover. A hand lightly draped over his mechanical one and threaded with his fingers. "I think I'll be able to make it up the mountainside, but I'll aid you in whatever way that I can while we are here."
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Re: Facing East

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"Thank you, darling," replied Archie, parting with a fond smile. "Is Mayhew up to the task, Milord?"

Vernon smirked and looked back to the Fae horse outside. "We've a few minutes to keep going, we agreed to stop at the shrine up ahead. Mayhew's seen me up this slope a few other times already."

From outside, the Fae horse's muffled voice rang out. "There is no cause for alarm, ladies and gentlemen. Following that last downwards slope was hard on the old hooves, but the road ahead should be notably easier! I can hear the wee spirits from here, chances are your ears haven't picked up on them yet!"

Holden looked outside. "What do kodama sound like?
- Tiny bells and expectant chirps," said Haskill. "They're among the rare standards the Japanese Summer and Winter Fae share. No bigger than my thumb, with adorable infantile proportions - and discarded tea cups serving as helmets. They use sticks as staves, wands or walking aids. They're far less, er, corporeal than their European cousins, the Little People of Tir Na Nog. It's simpler to think of them as anthropomorphic chunks of pastoral whimsy and innocence - forever playful and relatively carefree. Their biggest concern is wandering too far away from their shrines - the wider world is still imposing and frightening to them. They possess a gentle sort of curiosity for mortals and the more complex Fae, but not so much as to fully invest themselves the way dryads would."

Archie seemed surprised. "So... They're self-sufficient children. Of a sort.
- Of a sort, indeed," nodded Haskill. "Which marks another reason for my following along, however briefly."

The Winter Lord removed his top hat and held it in both hands, aperture pointed upwards, like a magician might. "We're here," he said softly. "You can come out, now."

From the depths of the hat came a faint green glow, the faint sound of ringing bells, and the tinkling of disturbed china. Soon, a pea-sized infant's hand crept over the hat's brim, along with the inverted bottom of a small sake cup. The head that waited underneath was big and round, its skin a uniform green shade, with its eyes and mouth looking more like carved indents in a wooden puppet's face than like actual organs. Still, the little being looked fearful, its pilfered cup rattling, more bell-like tingles leaving it where uncertain whines might have. It looked to the Clank, werewolf and Chimera the way a lost child might, visibly impressed by the size of these newcomers.

"It's alright," whispered Vernon, "they're with me. We're almost home, little man. Home."

The kodama's tiny mouth turned up in a grin and it jumped in the air, twirling and disappearing in a puff of pine-scented fumes as it did so. It reappeared on the window's edge, face plastered against the glass, eyes wide with wonder. It turned back to Vernon and hopped in place a few times, windmilling its arms excitedly. All that left it was bird-like chirps and more bell sounds, but their meaning couldn't have been clearer. "I'm back home! I'm back home!"

Vernon chuckled. "The little rascal had slipped in my waistcoat's pocket without my noticing, a few years ago. My fob watch must've impressed it. Once it woke up in England, I had to spend two hours trying to console it. It refused to leave me and used nonverbal means to repeatedly ask me when we might afford to go back. As soon as we had a map or an atlas on hand, or even a globe, it would leave my side, trot up to Japan's contour, and chirp hopefully at me."

Haskill reached out, the kodama hopping into his palm. "A word of advice: check your pockets if you plan on taking strolls along the paths that surround the village. Odds are you'll find yourselves with an unforeseen hitchhiker."
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Re: Facing East

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"Of course," Crystal responded, smiling warmly at the little kodama."'He or any like him deserves to be with their family."

The fauness nodded in acknowledgement. She seemed particularly enchanted by the child-like spirit and leaned forward slightly, smiling gently. Aspasia whispered to him in Japanese, "I'm glad you are returning home to your kin, little man."
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Re: Facing East

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If it could understand Aspasia, the kodama couldn't verbalize it. It kept hopping and windmilling its arms for a while, then let itself fall on its rump. It looked up to Vernon with an expectant smile. The Winter Lord parted with a warm curling-up of his lips in return, which prompted the spirit to phase out of existence and back into it while standing on the Winter Fae's shoulder. Tiny hands pinched the man's flaccid cheek, a tiny and plump green cheek rubbing itself against Vernon's - and ripping a chuckle of endearment out of him.

"I'll miss you too, boy," he said. "Fret not, however - we're bound to see each other again. I've always had plenty of reasons to stop for a chat with my fellow Lord. I'll make sure to spare an ochoko cup for you every time I come visit."

Haskill might've said he planned on visiting with a new overpriced gift each time that he would've received the same gleeful reaction. These tiny offering cups or mugs weren't always filled with sake, even if alcohol seemed to have no effect on the kodama. Some more conscientious individuals - parents, usually - tended to fill their ochoko with water or fruit juice. The modern era had introduced the concept of kodama taking a liking to soft drinks, as well, but the associated obesity epidemic also seemed like it wouldn't so much as give them cause for concern. It felt like the slightest bit of kindness was an immense boon in these little creatures' infantile perception of Humanity.

What of acts of cruelty, then? There had always been stories of kodama leading errant knights and travelers off the beaten path, seemingly leading them to death by a bathhouse or temple thanks to some bigger yokai... Could these beings grow attuned to human misery? 

In any case, Vernon's little friend seemed in no danger of going astray. Mayhew could be heard struggling up the last incline, and then stopped. The sound of the wind had changed, the crests' and slopes' howling giving way to a more subdued whistling at the favor of the coniferous trees that lined the path.

"We've arrived!" said the Fae horse. "As promised, the shrine is just ahead and the village is half a mile up the road, by foot."

Vernon first stepped out, briefly stopping to secure his overcoat, scarf and hat and to survey Mayhew's magic-assisted unloading of the group's luggage. The horse craned his neck as far backwards as it could, turning dark brown eyes to the group. His red-tipped ears twitched a few times in ways too deliberate to be just another equine tic, and the lorry's luggage-protecting straps undid themselves. More magic-assisted telekinesis brought the suitcases and Archie's old trunk down, that last item reacting to a forward ear twitch by independently shooting forwards along the road, much faster than it would have if anyone had volunteered to pick it up.

While this unfolded, Haskill took a few steps ahead, spat-covered shoes crunching in the snow, and stopped in front of what almost looked like a miniaturized Shinto or Buddhist temple. Green motes, like fireflies, surrounded it and kept it lit on all sides, only for most of them to converge on the shrine's small roof and porch as the Winter Lord approached. Out of each point of light sprang another kodama, each with its own chipped teacup over its head. They produced a small symphony's worth of jingles, small bell tolls and chirps, looking positively ecstatic even as Vernon's little friend left his shoulder and reappeared on the shrine's roof. Two of them ignored the comparatively gigantic Fae standing in front of the shrine and engaged in a childlike spar using their little twigs as if they were swords, while the others clustered over the homecoming king, watching or sitting down as it immediately dinged and chimed its way through what looked like a child's emphatic reconstruction of some backyard adventure, expansive gestures included.

Judging by how often Vernon's kodama jumped on its little feet and parted its arms as far apart and up as it could, the size of the wider world seemed to be worthy of particular emphasis.
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Re: Facing East

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Aspasia looked from her fellow travelers to the miniature shrine, smiling. "Home sweet home," she murmured in reaction to the little kodama's storytelling, slipping out of the lorry. Crystal joined them and watched the scene play out and smiled in amusement.
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Re: Facing East

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Glowing green eyes eventually turned to face the group, with Vernon's kodama again phasing in and out of existence, reappearing on Haskill's shoulder. The being's little features were the picture of intent focus. It moved its head more slowly than previously, producing individual chirps that were perhaps just short of articulated syllables. It felt as though this required all of the spirit's available focus and mental fortitude.

"AH-ri-gah-TO GO-ZAI-MAHs."

A pause. "THANK you." All of it suggested in musical tones rather than pronounced outright.

It again hugged Vernon's cheek and flitted back to the shrine, the other spirits now looking utterly puzzled. Apparently, kodama weren't in the habit of trying to speak in the tongues of the Fae or mortals. Maybe this was what two years spent in London had done to the little guy. Could it be considered progress, or a dereliction of tradition? About half of the spirits chimed in, trying to reproduce the musical syllables in a disjointed fashion, while the other one went back to displaying obliviousness toward the visitors.

Vernon's little spirit waved them farewell one last time, gesturing with both hands for them to leave. Vernon bowed à la Japanese and then turned back to the others.

"Well, this is where I'll leave you. You may either wait here for Archibald and I's common acquaintance to stop by, or at least try and start on the road ahead. You're in no real danger of frostbite or other such exposures to cold whilst in Oberon's realm, but cold is still, regrettably enough, cold. Were I not protected by my Mantle, I would be eager to press on for the sake of finding a fireplace and a bowl of soup."

Archie extended a hand and shook Vernon's. "Your little fellow... Correct me if I'm wrong, but he seems to have upset the natural order of things. His fellow spirits did not all seem particularly pleased to see him attempt to speak English - much less Japanese."

Haskill sighed. "Childlike immortals have a deeply holistic view of tradition, Milord. Our point of view as adults is more flexible. What is the status quo, after all, if not a never-ending succession of tiny, individually meaningless revolutions?
- Is he in any danger?
- No, kodama are not known for casting out iconoclasts - which have never been reported in their numbers. The foolhardy ones simply venture out to explore on their own and become lost. What is a small Odyssey for them is a risible distance for us - owing to so many Japanese travelers guiding them back to their shrines."

Haskill pursed his lips together and looked back to the shrine. "Some of them can be stubborn, however. Our little man has traveled further than any kodama in Japan's history... As I've said, check your pockets. Oh, and double-check your luggage, a month from now."

The Clank smirked. "Lest any globe-trotting spirit find its way in my sock drawers. I understand. I take it we simply follow behind my animated trunk?
- Precisely. The tracks should be easy enough to spot, Mayhew is fond of adding a glittering effect to his spells."

As per European customs, Vernon kissed both women on the cheeks before also wishing them farewell. He was about to close the lorry's door behind him when something made him stop.

"Er - Urakawa-san may elaborate further upon your arrival, but it is not uncommon for this very path and mountain pass to become snowed in periodically. If the village slides further away from the mortal plane, the surrounding blizzards will grow strong enough at the path's edge so as to take your lives! If your aides tell you the town crier is advising all to stay within the premises of the village, please do as he instructs."
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Re: Facing East

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After the little kodama's display, the Transgenic smiled and offered her own respectful bow. Once Vernon announced his departure and warned them of the inclement weather. Aspasia nodded. "I'm familiar with that happening. Sometimes, the blizzards became severe enough that all you could do is stay inside, drink tea or sake, and play Go," she replied. She nodded politely to the departing Fae. "Safe travels, Lord Haskill." Given that her luggage had sped along with Archibald and Crystal's, she started up the path she already knew well.

Crystal waved goodbye to the long-earred man. "Have a safe trip, Your Lordship," the werewolf said, following after the fauness.

Lowell looked over at Robertson. "Given the lengths the cold can get to, are the kimonos and other garments provided sufficiently insulated?" she asked.

Aspasia nodded in response. "Indeed they are. Between the durable silk and the expert padding in between the clothing's layers, you stay plenty warm. I packed mine in the luggage that was sent on ahead. That, and the bow and arrows Urakawa-san gifted me in return for saving his life. I figured I could at least get some target practice in, barring any actual need to use them," she stated, absentmindedly fingering the mala beads wrapped around her wrist.
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Re: Facing East

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"I will admit it seems difficult to admit such a place could be attacked," agreed Archie, hands on his hips for a few steps as he walked, "but this is Faerie, after all. Mab and Morgana's followers are forever attempting to shrink the expanse of the royal couple's lands. Sleepy villages are always the first to go."

Silence stretched out for a while, until something made Archie stop. He wasn't sure of what he'd heard, but still motioned for the others to stop.

"Hold, ladies," he said, briefly extending a cautionary hand before taking it to his sword cane's hilt. "We are not alone, here..."

He grew silent again, eyes downcast even as his senses focused on the auditory landscape. The wind was blowing, the pines were rustling and producing their peculiar whistling sounds, owing to the space between individual spines on a branch - and something was faintly jingling. The exact tone of it allowed him to partially relax, the exposed haft of his blade going back in its scabbard without his locking it closed again.

"Brother Monk," he said in Japanese, "we are but weary travelers seeking warmth and shelter. There is little to fear from us. Kindly step forward - you are among friends."

More rustling, then followed by another voice. Old and creaky and wavering, but still possessed of a kind of youthful wiliness. "That is what one of the Aratama would say... The Snow Woman has many guises to gift to her soldiers. Others like you have stopped on this path in days past. Others EXACTLY like you. I have killed them all."

That was new: some of Mab's contingents had learned of Haskill's plans and tried to earn their way into Yuki Village by impersonating their own group.

"Do you know who in Daimyo Haskill's retinue could have betrayed him?" asked Archie.

The voice piped up again. "Yes. Finnegan Iverson," the voice said, intoning the Western name with the usual Romaji syllable stress. "The retainer did not appreciate being demoted from his post as Regent. Do not worry - he is already dead. Now, do you know who I am, kitaiteki of the West?"

Archie relaxed fully. "Eiji Katsumoto, late of the Yokai branch of the Iga clan, contented Californian resident and frequent visitor and hatamoto to the rulers in Japan's Faerie. You honor us, sensei."

Low cackles were heard, following by more jingling. Out of the shade walked what initially looked like a traveling Buddhist monk, shakujo staff included, but they'd only see one tabi and the corner of a frayed kimono. The leg and shirt's colors seemed to bleed together, and out walked a short old man, his spine compressed by the centuries and barely averaging five feet four. He wore a primly-tailored black suit and tie and presented a liver-spotted cadaver of a face, lips hanging closely to wrinkled gums and a few loose teeth. Big, expressive eyes bulged in that narrow expanse, with grotesque earlobes more than matching with the width of one of his eyeballs.

Like Vernon, Eiji had Chosen late in life. Perhaps too late, according to some. No amount of contact with the Hearth had allowed him to transcend the decrepitude of old age - Oberon's fire having instead turned it into a set of almost cartoonish features; Death's grasp lifted away at the last possible moment and replaced with the kind of liveliness that would have turned this old fellow into the best ninja in Japan's history - of which the deeds were never recorded.

Katsumoto gave Archie's sword cane a circumspect look. "How do you expect to manage a decent iai with that thing?" he asked, in clear and unaccented English. "You British fops and your constant need for aesthetic concessions - you can't manage a power strike without a curved edge! Kisasma, I'd ask my favorite Greek shop in San Diego to make me some souvlaki on that needle of yours; I'd never expect you to kill anyone with it! What would you do to an enraged nurikabe, hm? Poke him to death?" 

Archie sighed. "Crystal, darling - may I present to you Eiji Katsumoto, who served as my political and protocol advisor during my stay here as a diplomatic envoy to the United States. Of course, it was a few weeks before I'd realize a ninja and samurai was advising me on which foot to put forward when addressing Emperor Meiji..."

Katsumoto scoffed. "These were the last few good decades this world would know, honestly. Hirohito came and trampled on our traditions for the sake of some easy political capital with Europe's Fascists, we bungled our relations with China beyond easy repair - and then your high-faluting Rendell fellow had to fall from the sky and usher in an era in which nobody could just be a retiring immortal without a care in the world!
- Such a shame, senpai," replied Archie, faking pity. "Tell me, how is your golf par doing, back home and close to Silicon Valley's verdant hills?
- Bite me, Pinocchio," retorted the old man, although there was an endeared chuckle hiding behind the insult.
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Re: Facing East

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Seeing the antagonistic yet cordial relationship between her boyfriend and his sensei, Crystal relaxed and sighed. "I'm pleased to meet you, Katsumoto-san. I'm Crystal Lowell," she offered, then tilting her head curiously. "Since you two know each other, I take it that you know we're not some impostors from Mab's court?" she asked rhetorically.

Given her taller height, Aspasia scoffed lightly and nodded politely. "I'm Aspasia Robertson, Katsumoto-san. It's an honor to meet you. Despite Rendell's foolishness, it did make things more interesting. From what I know of the immortals I've met, a steady, easy life can lead to a slow decline to them not giving a damn about anyone besides themselves. I'd have to say that's a sorry existence. And for what it's worth, I wouldn't have the life that I do now without his interference, as much of an idiot as he still is."
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