Logs:Making a Committee

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Making a Committee
Dramatis Personae

Fairbliss, Gnash, Grace, Jericho, Kyrie, Lena, Mark, Melissa, Nyx, Owen, Rhys, Sistersmith, Tock, Veronica

2 September, 2015


Some Lost meet to discuss how to help new people

Location

Valhalla


The meeting is, apparently, taking place in the parlor, and Kyrie's already there, naturally. Food has been brought in from the kitchen, along with a variety of drinks, both alcoholic and non. There's also a stack of notepads and pens, for anyone who has need of them. Kyrie has one of them herself and is sitting in one of the chairs, waiting patiently for people to arrive.

Owen comes in with a box of no bake chocolate oatmeal cookies that he sets down and he grabs a beer. He has his ever present write-everywhere pen and notepad and he plops down, feet up, to work on a handful of cookies while the meeting starts.

Predictably enough, Tock is dressed a touch too formally in a full-length vintage style dress in white and soft aqua green, the bodice crafted in a feather-like design that extends past the hips and fades into a sweep of light silk skirts. The small white hat topping her cornsilk hair is decorated with feathers in matching colours. A simple aqua ribbon clasps the silver locket at her throat and a silver woven metal bracelet adorns one wrist. Her opposite arm carries a small travelling basket. She waves to Kyrie on her way into the parlour, perhaps also predictably producing a smaller basket from within the one on her arm, filled with little glazed travel cakes. "Hello, Kyrie! And Owen!" She passes the container over to the host. "I figure it never hurts to have more little finger-food sweets about for meetings," she informs brightly. "It's French vanilla almond cake with a honey and green tea glaze. I couldn't not get them when I saw it." Finished with that explanation, she takes a quick look around the room. "Is there anything else you need help with before we start?"

Rhys walks in with his usual gear on: cargo pants, long-sleeved shirt,socks and shoes, his metallic turtle armour,and his knife strapped to his right shoulder. He nods at Kyrie,Owen,and Tock before taking a pencil and notepad and sitting down in a chair.

Veronica slinks in, looking rather tired but smiling faintly anyway. There are finger-wiggles for the faces she recognizes before she claims an (alcoholic) drink to retreat to a chair with. "Evening," she greets the gathering as a whole with a casual lift of her chin.

Grace is another of those people incapable of turning up to anything without bringing a little something along, and so a cardboard boxed filled with two-dozen cupcakes joins the rest of the baked goods brought along for the meeting. Bright pink, bright purple, bright green, all drowned in (presumably edible, but no guarantees given their source) glitter -- one of the practice batches being produced ahead of Dottie's German Sparkle Party. She arrives with her fellow Wax Magistrate, in the midst of informing Melissa about the risks of Glitter Lung (after strongly encouraging her to try one of each color), though she fades herself out as she walks into the arena and glances around, a smile for everyone she makes eye-contact with, and a beer soon in hand when she's off-loaded the box in her hands.

Owen finishes his cookies and rises as Tock arrives - she's given a fist bump and an 'oooh' for the cookies, which he snags two of, and then two cupcakes from Grace, who likewise is offered a fist bump. "Help Kyrie with notes maybe?" he asks Tock. "And don't let me forget. I scored something to help you learn more suturing skills - and you can re-use it over and over again."

Either the frozen woman that enters has gotten lost or is daft as they come, either way Nyx wanders in with her eyes fixated entirely on a tome in her hands; green leather bound vellum with flowing, handwritten red script on its cover. She does not look up until she runs directly into a chair. Glancing up slowly, she politely closes her book and places it down on the arm of the chair and sits politely with her legs crossed demurely at the knee. Her posture may defer to propriety, but her wardrobe is nothing more than a shoddy and threadbare shift dress that falls in tattered hems to just past her knees, her frostbitten feet left bare.

Sistersmith - Sister Grace Smith - steps in alongside Fairbliss. Her pale hair has been tied back into a pair of pig-tails, and she's wearing a simple grey silken blouse with puffed sleeves and a rather plunging neckline, along with a matching, knee-length pleated skirt; both adorned with light green embroidery in the shape of vines. Accessorizing that with a bronze cogwheel necklace and a green brocade underbust corset, as well as a pair of sheer white stockings that start somewhere under her skirt, and disappear into her heavy, retro-style workman's boots. Carrying a brown leather satchel-bag over one shoulder, which is held in place with her left hand as she raises her right in a wave of greeting both to people known and unknown. "Heya," She offers. "Lilith, this is everyone. Everyone, Lilith Fairbliss." To make sure introductions are made properly-ish.

And there's Jericho. Some might call him overdressed; others might say that he's in exactly the right sort of garb one would require for traversing the Hedge. Maybe not the Hedge specifically around _here_, but ... occupational hazards and whatnot.

Ahem. Right. Whatever the case might be, though, he's got all the subtlety of a battleship. From World War 2. That happens to be on fire. It's the footfalls, first, that might be noted; heavy and measured, each one coming as something between a thud and a clank. Soon enough that resolves to the glittering, silver aura and the gleaming plates of burnished gold as he steps fully within the room - thready ribbons of pure white light trailing behind him, as if fluttering on some unseen breeze. He lingers towards the back for a few moments longer - then, slowly, falls back into step to clear the door, moving to settle more or less against the wall there; both arms rising to cross low about his chest.

Melissa is mere steps behind Grace, and hers lag visibly, for all she's listening to her fellow Magistrate with attention telegraphed in antenna-curls and posture. Her own package gets set down out of the way: mead bottles, a small selection. Her greetings are the silent type: a nod, maybe a little distant, unusual for the bee-girl.

Kyrie grins at Tock. "The point is talking about how we can help," she points out, before giving the others smiles and nods. "Just make yourselves at home. Once everyone's settled I'll get started. Hopefully you all know why we're here, though. If not, now is the time to speak up."

It was her first meeting with a large gathering of Lost, and Fairbliss wanted to look her best. She opted for a black long dress made of the finest silk that complimented her figure perfectly, clinging to her body, but also allowing her freedom of movement, alo leaving her back exposed. She wore low heels that night, since she did not know if the the usually impossibly high heels she liked would get in the way. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back in shimmering waves as she walked, her blood red eyes taking into everything and everyone with curiosity. Even her long tail had a black bow tied to it, near the spade tip. She offered the group a dazzling smile, displaying a perfect set of white teeth and spoke with a powerful and musical voice that filled the whole area. "Good evening, everyone. I am Lilith Fairbliss. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

Nyx turns glacial, doe wide eyes to Melissa and waves slowly, that whole Pocahontas 'wingapo' movement but lacking the warmth, to Grace and Melissa. Her expression is vacant but the gesture is as welcoming as the Snowskin will ever be. She looks pointedly to any empty seats that may be around her.

Attending university classes fortunately cured Tock of her staring at a fist presented by way of greeting. Returning Owen's fistbump doesn't look natural, by any stretch, but at least she's responding in an appropriate fashion. "Reusable practice materials are extremely helpful, thank you, Owen. Just ask Kyrie's battle dummies." This last comes with an amused grin. She finds a cider to sip on before taking a seat and pulling out a pad to take notes on. Nevermind that her pen is produced from an opened fingertip rather than the basket. Her free hand offers waves to the new arrivals. "For those who don't know, please call me Tock. Nice to see everyone."

"Heya Lilith, nice to meet ya," calls Owen, "You're welcome to any of the food or stuff - ooh, mead. Thanks Melissa!" he calls. "Owen Thorpe. Nice to meet ya all and see those I met before."

Rhys nods his head. "Likewise. Rowan Ainsley. Just call me Rhys. Nice to meet you all."

"Oh yeah, and for those of you who don't know me, I'm Kyrie," is added, belatedly.

Lilith winks at Owen, also nodding to him. She proceeds to nod towards Rhys and Kyrie as well, still smiling, and lets otu a small sigh of contentment, turning to Sistersmith. "Ah, such a nice gathering, darling."

Despite her position as an Onyx Courtier, Grace displays a decidedly warm demeanor; friendly smiles for everyone she doesn't know, and as soon as she sees Nyx she bears down on the woman with enthusiasm, greeting her with a quick squeeze. "Hello! You look well!" She keeps her voice down, albeit still perfectly audible. She coordinates wordlessly with Melissa in finding a seat, extracting her own notepad and pencil from within the folds of her mint-green cardigan. Nor is it only the pencil and paper that emerge -- a lump wriggles up from somewhere around her ribs, sliding up her front before a small, furry head pops out from the front of her collar. In short order a large black hedge-rat has clambered out from her clothing and taken a perch atop her right shoulder.

"Mn. I got the Cliffs Notes - but I'm still getting a feel for the place myself." That from the Metalflesh by the door; and Jericho seems to be quite content to remain there for the moment. Then again, all things considered, sitting in that outfit might not be the most comfortable of undertakings. A second or two later finds the impassive, too-smooth features sliding across the near edge of the horizon; pinpointing from one individual to the other before he offers a singular inclination of his head to the room as a whole. "Jericho. Hello."

Sistersmith opens her satchel, offering up a glass jar of biscuits, which she likewise hands to Owen, since he seems to be in charge of refreshments. "Caramel crackle," She explains, as she hands it over, before picking up a notepad and settling down, crossing her legs and flicking the cap off her index finger to present a small brush, which she dips under her thumb-nail for ink. "And I'm Sister Grace Smith, of the Verdant Antler and the Endless Road, for those who don't know me. Hello!" She offers cheerfully.

The "cap" in question being her fingertip, which flicks back as though hinged at the first knuckle.

Introductions, Nyx is late to realization yet again. "Nyx. No surname given or required. Partial personing on occassion." she says blankly before staring up at Grace. Her hand lingers in the air, uncertain of where to land or what to do so she settles for a pat on Grace's shoulder that may be a tad too chilly if the frost spiraling up her fingers is any indication of what skin on skin contact may be like. "You look alive as you ever are." She has no pencil and heavens know she wouldn't write in the antiquated book she brought with her, so the Winter simply elects to watch and stare at each person in turn as introductions are made.

"I'll have to uh, you know, quality check this and all," says Owen to Sistersmith, taking the jar with a thank you and setting it down, snagging two out to take a bite, "MMm. Sweet. I like it, thank you!" he adds to Sistersmith, "Super good."

Kyrie waits until a majority of people look settled before she gets to her feet. "Thanks for coming. As you all know, we're here to figure out how we can better help new people, both new to the area and fresh out of the Hedge. Figuring it out, delegating people to work toward specific goals, pooling resources, all that good stuff. There are some ideas already, naturally. To begin...There's temporary crash space here, but we need something out of the hedge as well." She glances to Owen and grins. "And less crowded. Buying something along the lines of an old camp or rental cabins was suggested, for one."

Melissa ends up near the Winter contigent as if drifting there; Owen gets a spare and ghostly smile in her fixed way, and she seems to take his thanks as all the introduction she needs. It's not standoffish or cold, just a hint of weariness that makes her restrained, watchful rather than ready for lots of chatter. Her gaze lands on Kyrie and stays there, fingers fiddling with a pen.

It takes a fair amount of time before the darkling known as 'Gnash' makes his way to the gathering. The slight nip of winter is about him as he makes his way slowly through the cavern. The creature sticks to the periphery and when he is still; he is easy to miss amidst the gaps in light from the silver veins that streak the cavern. As he enters though his chattering teeth are easily observable. The sharp gnashing maw is narrow and clacks consistently when he is not trying to evade notice. The red eyes and eye spots of his spider nature glow faintly as he peers around. His whip-like and forked tongue lashes out momentarily as he maneuvers on his long limbs. The skitterskulk/lurker living more to his namesake and being a bit of a stereotype. A few worn washers are produced in his palm and he sets them between his fingers. He sends them tumbling end over end across his knuckles. He even flicks them up and transfers hands. Sometimes one will disappear and he will tug it from an ear or other common parlor trick location; only to resume his efforts of sending them over the scape of his knuckles.

"Definitely having something together would be a help. The start of a safe place to stay and get something to eat here has been a good one. I know that some do the same over at the Lighthouse," Tock begins listing things that she knows are in place so far. "But Kyrie is right...something out in the world is still needed for balance. The peer-to-peer group that was started last week seems like a great plan for once new people have already had a chance for the basics talk, as far as support." She pauses to sip from her bottle. "Getting people to shelter with basic needs met, helping obtain identification papers, and finding employment are the main resource issues that I've identified so far with my own interactions."

Lilith takes a notepad and a pulls a pen from her handbag, sitting next to Sistersmith and satrts to take notes as she listens to the others. She did not take anything to drink or eat just yet, choosing to focus on the meeting instead, at least for the moment.

Owen nods, 'The stuff that John is doing is great with the counseling stuff and peer to peer stuff. I can fit oh, eight folks on my dive boat, but it won't be posh. Longer term we're going to want a sort of halfway place - somewhere folks can stay, live safely, contribute, and then get set up. And related to that, a list of folks that can help them get new jobs, IDs, stuff like that." More caramel goodness. Then the cookies that Tock brought.

"Well, as I said before, Kyrie," the Sistersmith nods, and gestures over to the Succubus at her side. "We're hoping to get something going in terms of both offering temporary employment and a place to crash and feed on glamour. It's Lilith's brainchild, though, so I'll let her tell you more about it."

Grace glances up as Sistersmith mentions temporary employment, then dutifully turns her attention to Lilith - presumably so, in that she turns her head in that direction, though it's hard to know for sure where her empty eye-sockets might actually be fixed. "I know someone who's looking for work, she'd be very interested."

Kyrie shakes her head slightly at Owen, pauses, then starts writing. "Okay, so if you can think of something that we need to focus on? Go ahead and mention it. Then we can work out specifics for each. So for now? Housing, jobs, IDs. The counseling thing."

Nyx chimes in deadpan, "Quiet, unnoticeable work. Melt into the woodwork. Recent escapees may catch roving eyes if they are not careful."

"I gotta second the need for identifaction," Veronica hesitantly raises her hand, wincing a little. "I'm finding that it's pretty damn hard to do much of anything without it." She gives Nyx a worried sort of look and slowly nods her head.

"The farm's available for employment and space, though not everyone wants to do the physical labor part," Melissa says, her first words since her arrival. There's a hint that she might say more, but she rather visibly bites back any further thought, instead pondering a bit longer.

Lilith looked up from her notepad and took a deep breath before she started speaking, taking the time to scan the crows as she did so. "Allow me to present a project of mine that I have been working on for some time and should be ready in a matter of weeks. I am opening a night club in the city, and I named it Sanctuary. The club will have four different environments, eight bars, a restaurant, conference rooms, as well as a number of other features, but that is not the most important part of this project. The main reason I am opening this club is to offer our people a safe haven where they can be themselves without fearing attracting the attention of humans or being judged just because they are different. Each one of us has gone through unique experiences, and they marked us in many different ways. The VIP area of the club will be reserved solely for the use of our people. In addition, I will offer many jobs with competitive benefits, and my plan is to employ only those form our community, only resorting to the local human population in case I cannot fill a particular spot, but that's not all. The upper floor of the club will have many rooms I will gladly offer to anyone who needs a place to stay for as long as necessary. We should be able to accommodate ten to 15 people in the rooms and an even greater number of job offers. It is my most sincere hope that the club will be the beginning of a process to develop the area and make it friendlier to our people while also improving the area and the lives of everyone."

Lilith pauses and takes a deep breath, smiling yet again. "Well, then. That was a mouthful. Anyway, this is what I am working on, and it is available to anyone, particularly those who need to start anew. We all know how hard it is the transition back to this reality. The only condition I impose on anyone who wishes to be at Sanctuary is to respect each other. We are all different, and I will not tolerate discrimination."

"The farm has amazing food," says Owen re: Melissa's offer, "And they're great people." And then to LIlith. "Really? That's great. That's awesome!"

"Hmmn. Not to play devils advocate; but let me play devils advocate for a moment." So sayeth the angel by the door. Of course. "Some of us come out a bit less.... _less_, than others. Mentally, physically; some things are harder to leave behind than others. I'm not saying it's their fault - given that I was one of them - but has any thought been given on how to deal with such problem cases? Helping people who want to be helped or who can be helped is great; but not everyone is quite that stable, and some pose a present danger to themselves and others around them. The unfortunate nature of it is that, too, it's not always obvious from the getgo." Drawing a slower breath as he looks around the room once again, Jericho finally fixates his attention forwards - a sort of dead-stick, detached expression settling in. "I am not saying, also, that we suspect everyone or even expect everyone to fall into this category - but I do think some kind of contingency to deal with issues like that - even if it's as simple as someone running around in public showing off things that should not be shown off - if the situation arises." Yes, well. He did mention something about training for the Legion, after all. Pessimists. The lot of 'em.

"As far as obtaining identifications and paperwork, I know my Motley-mate Ali has volunteered for as much in the past. His connections network is quite impressive," Tock informs between notes scribbled on her pad. "Thank you for that, Lilith. The night club sounds like something that might be workable for those who are able to handle a lot of noise and people, which may be a limitation for a lot of the newly arrived. The farm being on the opposite end, so both good options. Kyrie, hadn't someone mentioned purchasing or opening a residential facility of some sort that would be more strictly residential? Or was that just an initial thought being bandied about?"

"So other than the housing, jobs, IDs, counseling...Maybe a modern technology thing, can anyone think of other things that are needed?" Kyrie asks before looking to Jericho. "That's on the list. John Ihrck is already running counseling and I think we've got a therapist or two already. And yes, John mentioned it, I offered to help with the finances for it. If he doesn't, then I will, so long as someone else can run it."

Gnash is not your bread and butter extrovert. The darkling finds the place furthest from the conversation where he can partake. Then he settles into a shadow and holds himself perfectly still. His teeth stop chattering for a moment as he concentrates on simply observing. The washers he was rolling over his knuckles are palmed and then put away. He listens. And he watches warily. Unsure of everyone there; knowing none of them.

"I can always hand out shifts and paychecks for people working Lovelace for a week or two, just to get their paper-trail started," the Sistersmith suggests, in-between her scribblings. "Which is something to build on, for Ali and the Wyrd and whatever else we bring to bear. But I'm not sure how many employees my little store can handle - Maybe ten at the most... Though then we'de be able to be open six days a week, at least," She concludes, with a small smirk. "And anyone who visits me, well, I'm willing to help with the modern technology angle."

Nyx opines, "A lavish bar that indulges all manners of indulgence is hardly where one should go if they want to avoid being feasted on. Extremes, the far ends of the spectrums of all emotional canvas is bait and lure for fiendish maws. You may vanish in the crowd, but some may see the smoke for the trees and be drawn to the bacchanal conclave." She pauses as the cracking of ice can be heard, the hoarfrost crowning her dark curls traveling downwards in rivulets behind her ears and into her neck. A few sprigs press against her skin, threatening to break its surface and it looks anything but enjoyable, her expression still void of reaction. "Celebrate as you must, but those that hunt will be given grounds."

Owen nods, "John mentioned that. I am thinking of starting a dive business, not sure yet. I should have some kinda job," Owen adds, "If so, I could use help there too. The counseling will be key. A safe place to stay. Safe, quiet, under hte radar jobs. And .. we should have at least someone or someones that knows how to explain fetches to someone. I had that talk today actually with someone," says Owen.

"I will be able to accommodate even the newly arrived in the upper floor of the club, which will be the residential area, so to speak. The VIP area will also be isolated from the rest of the club and only open to our people. One can be living in the upper floor and not work in the club, and vice-versa, or they can if they want." She added without looking up and taking notes.

"I can help people with adjusting to new technology, Kyrie. Though having more than one of us to do so would also be a good plan. I have access to most of the equipment in question for demonstration purposes and experience... Well, adjusting from nearly a century being away took quite a lot of study on top of a technological aptitude." Tock's pen-tip drums at the edge of her paper. "Though being able to /get/ people technology is a separate issue. Libraries and such are helpful for computers, but it would be a great help toward communicating and job-seeking to find people access to telephones, as well. Preferably mobile ones when their living situations might be more mobile."

"Excuse me," Mark says as he slips inside, past any and all people lurking there, as they are wont to do, so the wall can be held up. He's carrying a cooler, and so looks around for any flat place to lay out food. Someone is very late and brought food. And apology cookies. So many apology cookies. He does offer, "Farms have always traditionally been good for under the table, looser standards in hiring."

Oooh food. Owen is up in a second to 'help' Mark and 'make room' for the food and 'make sure it's organized' and the 'cookies are all arranged in place'. When he returns to his seat it'll be with a plate topped high. "And that dude can cook the heck outta just about anything!" he tells the room. "In the short term Ky, we could get some burner phones for folks to use until we get identities?" he asks Kyrie. "For communications access."

There's a brief, but crisp, nod shot Kyries way there - though apart from that, Jericho remains almost completly motionless save for the slow, almost liquid roil of light around him. "Fair enough; but I was speaking more of those ... beyond therapy, or who require far more than initial settings. The violent; the - not to mince words - truely mad. Those that may pose a danger to us; and certainly to the rest of the population. Those who would need to be controlled, perhaps even kept sequestered, before they can start to heal."

"In terms of obtaining technology," Grace speaks up from where she sits, taking copious notes in short-hand, "And really, any items of expense.. we don't need to pay for it new. All we need is to get our hands on old, broken equipment, and those of us with the knack can restore it easily enough to new condition."

"I think Nyx has a point, about the bar. And people fresh from the Hedge might not be able to handle it, either. The farm would be good for that, though," Kyrie says, nodding to Melissa, then Mark. "But perhaps...since there really is a lot to take care of, if we had one person, for instance, working on housing, another on technology, another on IDs and so on, that would spread the load around and keep things from getting too crazy?"

"Or at least people to coordinate efforts - let it radiate outwards from the top." The Sistersmith adds to Kyrie's comment, then gives Grace a nod. "I pick up plenty of electronic spare parts for my business."

"In the jobs department," says Rhys, "It seems that Maddy's Wafflehouse is hiring. Also, in plant-related things, there's gardening opportunities, and probably other jobs, at Lockerbie Condominiums. Additionally, looking into jobs at the greenery place called the Pitcher Plant. The person is currently hiring select positions." Then he addresses Kyrie's question. "I'm fine with helping with job searching."

"Those that wish to flock to baited grounds, may. Those that wish something more covert, the Onyx court can be called upon." Nyx, as far as Elementals go, tends to blend into the social landscape more than the actual physical. It is a rare sight when her tongue is stirred to action, her observations voiced. Her breath mists in front of her lips as she continues to speak. "Overwhelm with option and you will suffer a lack of one choosing any options. Make it direct. Short. Potency in brevity. Certain people to go to for certain things, and fallbacks for when others fail to do their jobs." A pause and a wave of her blackened fingers, "And of course maybe a call book or log within the Freehold that details who can be sought after for smaller varying things."

Tock lifts her free hand in a wave of greeting to Mark as he makes his entrance and speaks up. "Having a small stock of no-contract phones would be helpful, Owen. That is a good plan." She nods agreement with ongoing talk of nightclubs potentially being a bit much for new arrivals, possibly leaning more toward the farm for those. "Having a few point people for each thing might be helpful, in case someone shows up when one of those individuals is not available and there is an immediate need. Her head shakes slowly at the mention of potentially sequestering people. "That...is not my area." She is a little quieter after this, simply scratching away at her pad with the pen nib.

Mark gives Owen a knowing smile, before turning around to look at the rest of the group. "Not that I think we don't need this group, and not that I don't wish to discourage any sort of volunteers or anything, but has anyone checked with the Winter court on some of this? I mean, they are really good at the hiding in plain sight, and all that it entails. I can't think that they don't already have some of the systems in place."

"That part is .. far more touchy. I mean, I get it. Some folks come back, broken. But who decides that? That's a lot of responsibility. I say we all keep talking to each other and if we get someone that we're worried about - that the counseling people are worried about, that the housing folks like John are worried about, we talk. And then we figure out what to do. I know this may seem weird to y'all since I'm all, you know, gun toting dude, but I want to make these folks feel welcome. They even get a hint we have a plan to put someone behind a locked door, it'll blow all our cred. If someone is a threat to us and the rest of the Freehold, we can do what we gotta do then. Or am I outta place?" asks Owen of the group.

Owen then munches more Mark cookies <tm>!

The darkling with the sharp narrow needle like teeth lifts from his stillness. And his teeth start there rapid gnashing as he makes his way down over by Nyx. The creature sits in a vacant seat next to the elemental. He remains very quiet. A nod here or there seems to indicate his agreement with her wisdom in regards to less visible jobs. Finally after a time the chattering teeth stop and with a smiling mouth full of headcheese he makes his comment, "Gnash can juggle. He can find your pockets and free them of the things within them. He is not strong as an ox. And he can find locks and make them no longer secure. Gnash has no skills unless you consider juggling and..." Gnash then digs in his hoody pocket and produces a few long balloons. He blows them up and quickly twists and turns and makes a little miniature Gnash balloon creature. He gets out a sharpie and wets it with his forked tongue before drawing eight eyes and a rapid set of jagged teeth. "This. Gnash is super duper fucked. Going to go back to the hedge soon as he is seen. Gnash sticks out like a sore toe. What is he to do?"

Kyrie shakes her head at Mark. "I thought it simpler, and more efficient, to call all those interested rather than going to people individually. Though, after this, solo meetings, or smaller groups, will probably be needed. Like, those who can help with finding housing, like the cabins, can all get together. Or someone can go around, compiling a list of people who can help with, say, IDs. Is there anyone who wants to volunteer to help with any of that? If nothing else, I /can/, and absolutely will, meet with people over the next few weeks to discuss more details if people want. But as for hiding people away? That's another reason why the cabins would be good. Not in town, so there's some privacy apartments or clubs or even houses in the subburbs don't have."

Kyrie also adds to Gnash, "That's what we're here to figure out. But if you need a place to stay for now? Just say so and we'll absolutely get you a place."

Grace watches Gnash as he sits down, listens as he talks, and when he's done she leans slightly in his direction to offer a helpful, "If you relax your stomach muscles, it stops you shivering so much."

Mark's comment earns a nod and a glance over at the gathered Winters. "If there is something already in place, by all means I'd love to work with that and know more about it. It may be there's more a need for education in what's available than making something new, in that case," Tock admits readily. Owen's speaking on not wanting a system of potential detainment in place has her nodding in agreement once more, though adding nothing else on the topic. "The farm might be a good option for those who are less able to be in the public eye, from what it sounded like?" Another questioning glance is sent Mark's and Melissa's way.

There's another shake of his head there - this time towards Owen. "I'm speaking in more practical terms; not that we sit there and evaluate each and every person that falls out of a gate; but rather we prepare for the eventuality that something will happen. If someone comes across as a psychopath; that can be dealt with in it's own way; and honestly, shrinking heads is way above my pay grade. If someone starts murdering people in the night or eating children for fun and profit? That's a situation I can deal with." Through it all, Jericho remains in that steady stillness; even his features seem largely unchanging - skin moving akin to mercury; fluid, seamless and without even the hint of crease whilst his mouth moves. "If such a thing happened to the Freehold in general, to those of us who have already adjusted - or at least reasonably adjusted - that is one thing; but what we are speaking of are the most vulnerable amongst us. A predator or rogue element in their midst could both cause untold damage, and unhinge _them_ even more."

Mark studies Kyrie for a few moments. "I get that you want to help. And I have seen all the good works that you've done here," as he glances around Valhalla. "Your enthusiasm is amazing and engaging, and very, very Summer, full of passion. Winter operates differently and you may be stepping on their bailiwick. They might not want to reveal all of their secrets so openly," as he glances around apologetically, "no offense to the lot of you. I do hope that you will take that in mind." He adds, "Also, we might need to check with the heads of our respective Courts to see what they have set in place as well."

Owen nods to Gnash, "Talk to her," point to Kyrie, "Or me, I have a place you can stay or those two," to Mark and Melissa, "They all have places. ANd we can help you bro, we really can. It'll just take time. You'll get there." A nod to Jericho, "I get ya. And I do think we should have that in mind. I don't disagree with you. we don't want folks to take advantage." Owen does try to meet Melissa and Mark's eyes, to gesture to Gnash in a 'talk to him after'? type thing.

Kyrie arches a brow at Mark. "I don't believe I asked anyone to reveal secrets. And no one else knew of any plans in place to help with the housing or jobs. If I'm wrong, then sorry, but I couldn't sit back and just /hope/ that someone was working on the problem. What if I'd been wrong?"

Gnash looks around. "Gnash has a beautiful dumpster and a sleeping bag right now. No one bothers him except for Tuesdays and Thursdays -- when Gnash needs to wake up early unless he goes end over end into the big trash eater. It's most scary." With the advice he gets Gnash shakes his head, "Gnash loves meat. Creepy crawly meet and is hungry." He opens his maw and then smiles, "Dumpster roaches are learning of Gnash' hunting ways. So Gnash has started going to the bright house with the light. And he also takes here and there -- it would be nice if Gnash could find a used seafood place." He licks his narrow chomps. Then grins, "Does one know a seafood dumpster?" He asks Grace. "The farm sounds delicious. Do they run fast, the animals?" Gnash nods to Owen, "Gnash will talk after." He chatters out. "Thanks to you for consideration."

"Of course;" This comes with a nod towards Owen, once again, as Jericho continues. "Which is why I think it should be reactionary, fire team sort of approach - so that situations can be quelled with a minimum of time and damage when they arise; vigilance as opposed to constant interrogation."

"Could we get Melissa or Grace maybe to ask? Or Nyx?" asks Owen, "Barring that Arianna, one of our Hedge Wardens in our unit, she's winter. And maybe we can each ask our court leadership?"

Mark gives Kyrie a puzzled dog look, "I didn't say you had to sit back and hope, Kyrie. I suppose, to be fair, that I'm asking what sort of research you did beforehand and I am sorry if it seems I am attacking you. I certainly hope you don't feel that way. Of course, you don't want to be wrong. Of course, you don't. As I said, I can see how much you care and it is admirable."

Grace has been monitoring the conversation quietly, though she focuses in on Owen at the sound of her name -- as does the rat on her shoulder, whiskers twitching as it fixes a beady black eye on the man. Though the phrasing of the question, its indirectness in relation to her, seems to bemuse the Telluric in so far as giving any response herself-- she casts a curious look at Melissa, then at Kyrie.

Nyx reaches out a palm for the small balloon Gnash that the real Gnash made. Her curiosity is diverted from the meeting for the novelty and she is lost in its inspection for a few stalling moments before she returns to the matters at hand. "Onyx's hand is never dealt in full knowledge. Services rendered upon need and excess." She curls a hand around the end of the chair's arm, frost spiderwebbing from her fingers and trailing from her fingertips. When she raises her hands it vanishes entirely and leaves only a wet warm that is but an echo of the patterns the frost made. "Information of identity? I offer this: I take up residence at the library. With that comes the beauty of archives, mundane death and birth certificates. I can weave a lie of paper trail if need be. You just may not be promised the name you wish."

Lena is definitely late, but sometimes these things are unavoidable. Scheduling conflicts happen, right? When she shows up at Valhalla she comes in quietly, expecting that conversations are probably still going on and not wanting to interrupt things. There are a couple of familiar faces when she gets there, and she offers those she knows a warm smile as she goes to find a seat. Actually, she seems to just be smiling in general.

"So far as Court resources, I can speak to what Spring offers fairly certainly. There is a Garden maintained. We have a stock of Hedgefruit supplies, particularly related to healing. Our Physicians, Arkady and Winston, can be contacted for healing needs as they are organising our healers. Alireza is also our Finder, and can assist in procuring items or directing to the appropriate people to do so," Tock rattles off the list easily. "As far as a more organised manner of handling new arrivals and shelter and these other topics we are discussing, I know of nothing formal in place."

Gnash looks to Nyx. Then to balloon Gnash. And he offers a grin and sets it in her palm and then he turns back to the meeting. He takes the sharpie and with a flick of the wrist it vanishes. The parlor trick magician and juggler of a darkling goes quite again. Except for his maws movements -- only when he is trying to be unseen does he control that. His red eyes and the eyespots turn though as he catches a scurrying creature down the way. He licks his sharp chomps and refrains before turning to Nyx. "You like? You keep. Gnash has many balloons." He mentions quietly before shutting up in order not to take from the meeting.

Kyrie cocks her head at Mark. "Attacking me? No. And I'm wrong as often as anyone else. But my research? Was seeing how much trouble people had with some of these things. With talking to others who noticed the issues as well. Getting meetings with the queen and regents isn't exactly /easy/, after all. More, say that Winter has stuff set up for all of this. Does it hurt anything to have extra options? What if their safehouses are compromised? Then we have backups. And backups are always /wonderful/."

Fairbliss closed her notpad and replaced her pen in her handbag before standing up. She stood up, gathering what belonging she had brought with her and looked around, flashing a smile. "Well, I have said what I intended to. All of you are aware of my plans, and those wishing to avail themselves of the opportunity are certainly welcome to do so. You may think it is a good or bad idea, the choice is yours. You are welcome to do better if you think you can. I can easily be reached through Sistermith, should you need to. I hope all of you have a fabulous night and I am sure that we will meet again before long." The succubus leans to place a gentle kiss on Sistersmith's lips and flashes a smile to the group in general as she makes her way out, quietly humming to herself while giving her hips a bit of an extra thrust.

Melissa turns toward Owen. "I don't know. Could you?" It's a bit of her bubbliness come back into her voice, but with just a hint of edge, the stinger under the sweetness. She pauses, weighs things, and gives a hint of a shrug. "Should all these issues be lumped under the same banner? And some of them do trend to certain courts to handle more than others, to free us up for our wheelhouse. Discussion with the monarchs and the aldermembers is a good and prudent idea." Gnash has her attention until Kyrie mentions Winter's safehouses being compromised. Strangely enough, that's what gets her to stand up. Apparently, that's a kind of last straw, and a silent vote with her feet.

"OK, ok. Hold on. Everyone has a dog in this hunt and we're all here cause we wanna help out. So lets just take a breath 'fore this breaks into argument before we even get started. OK? Why don't we do this. One or two of us from each court will take notes from this meeting and go back to our respective leaders. Say hey, this is what we're tallking about so you know. we want to have this stuff available or duplicates if we can. And then we'll meet again and talk it over, yeah?" says Owen, after finishging another cookie.

Kyrie looks over to Melissa, frowning a little. "I didn't say they /would/ be compromised, Melissa. I was just giving an example. Besides, it's not like anything is being decided definitely today. It was to gauge interest, to pool thoughts and ideas."

The Sistersmith gives Lilith a kiss as the succubus leaves, seeing her off with a slightly goofy smile on her face. Blinking once or twice, regaining her composure, and looking across the group. "I don't know - and don't want to know - what the current Winter set-up is, but back when I excited, they were very helpful in offering shelter and helping me get back on my feet. And I didn't have to meet with a regent to get help."

"Of course not," Mark smiles warmly at Kyrie. "As I have said and will continue to repeat, your passion is amazing. But I would hate to see anyone re-inventing the wheel, as the expression goes, if there are already things in place. If nothing else, those people who did set up those systems? May be able to give advice so we don't repeat their mistakes." He gives a nod to Owen, "A good idea."

"I think we're just trying to see what is in place and what isn't, to keep people informed and fill in the gaps where we can," Tock echoes Owen. "Like I said, if there are already things in place? Great! Please just let us know so we can get the word out. I'll admit to ignorance with the best of them. There is always more out there to learn. And I am sure we all appreciate what everyone here is able and willing to contribute."

"Winter safehouses are not compromised." Nyx says coldly, the Snowskin's complete lack of emotion disturbing in the harsh tones that seem borrowed. Mimicry, not a voice she owns outright. It vanishes and she returns to her own objective intonations, playing with Gnash's balloon novelty between her fingers, careful to not pop the tiny balloon Gnash. "A book of services offered from each Court, individuals adding their own names to the roster at will? Central location. Lighthouse? All have something to offer, if it is known where to look. As I said, identification and identity creation I will help with. Regents should not have to be reached for every single Lost who comes from free from their Keeper. As far as resources go, they should know the full extent. Information trickles down through the ranks. The dewdrop knows but a mote of what the raincloud offers."

As she listens to people and tries to catch up with what's going on, Lena starts to look a bit confused. So far she seems to be deciding to hold her tongue, making sure she understands. For those who have ever spoken with her before that's probably not a bad idea, considering how difficult it is for anyone to concentrate on anything when she starts talking. Finally she says, "if there are things already in place, those things already seem to be failing. We have a handful of new people around, but nobody knows what might exist already?" And, of course, when she speaks, the ethereally beautiful voice does its best to banish the ability to focus. It's probably why she speaks so quietly that many people might miss it, or talk over her. "When I arrived newly not too long ago, there didn't seem to be any special efforts made to help newcomers."

Kyrie sighs softly. "I was /not/ saying that they /were/ or /would be/ compromised. I was giving an /example/." Something is said quietly to herself, then, "I apologize for offending Winter." She nods to Owen, then Mark. "Yes, let's do that. Then we can have those reps meet and discuss what's in place and what's still needed. Would that work for everyone?"

Melissa pauses just long enough to look at various faces, stopping longest on Nyx. Her expression remains that fixed neutral insect's smile, up until the Snowskin, where her gaze turns almost apologetic. It's not a goodbye, and the arguments to settle things do not persuade her to stay, not even the apology from Kyrie.

"That works for me," says Owen, and then he points at Lena - not in an accusing way. "I know we're doing cross-court stuff here, everyone. And we all have pride and we have emotional investment in this stuff. But what she just said is key. She came out and didn't know how to get the help she wanted or needed. So, we'll figure this out. Mebbe it means more cookies. I mean, I'm just spitballing here. Maybe it means more information getting out to people. But if we can get someone to volunteer to go to the Winter leaders, and we can get the other courts, we can see what they say before meeting again. But focus on that. Someone needed help and didn't know how to get it. OK? Lets set the rest of this stuff aside, emotionally and pride speaking."

"You're right, Owen. Kyrie, I apologize if I offended in any way. If you would like apology cookies, do let me know your favorite and I shall bake them posthaste," Mark turns and looks at everyone else, "and to anyone else that I might have offended. I did not mean to drag us off the course to help. If I can make it up to you, please do let me know, and you will so receive apology cookies. Ultimately, the idea is to help people."

Again, Tock nods in agreement with Owen. "That is part of why I wanted to be at this meeting. Lena's story is not unique. I have met several newly arrived Lost who seem to be having difficulty getting direction. There is help, but in a less than organised fashion. Part of this may be my own fault for not knowing better where to direct them, other than here. I would love to know better for the future, certainly." She pauses in her writing for a moment. "I have taken quite a lot of notes today and can bring them to the attention of the Spring Court. Such would fall under my duties as an Emissary, regardless."

"I do know that John Ihrck has started hosting support group meetings for new arrivals," Lena adds quietly again, though even when she speaks quietly it's hard to ignore her. In a large group like this, that seems to embarrass her. "It's the only thing I've even heard of since I got here intended to support new people, but I did attend the first such meeting and found it useful. Does anyone know of anything else specific that exists now, not necessarily court-affiliated?" Melissa pages: I was about to say 'at least the stalker thing has died down' but that's just asking for the world to screw with me. :) But yeah, I appreciate it. I'm just fried enough not to be able to easily play bubbly bee, so the stinger-side comes out a little more easily instead.

"I think it means we failed you," the Sistersmith offers to Lena. "And for that I'm sorry - so, yes. What Owen says. We need to get better at channeling the newly Lost to those who can help them, be that Winter or others. And we need to take an interest in talking to them." She suggests. "Gnash seems happy with his dumpsters, so we'll look into what he asks for - seafood? I can take you for a walk down the boardwalk some time," She offers with a small grin the the Spideresque one. "We are all special snowflakes, worthy of protection, but we have to melt away to waterdrops to hide. And that we can do, even if it takes a special and unique way to do it."

"Winter responds when asked." Nyx observes as she makes the balloon Gnash walk across the arm of the chair, like a child playing with an action figure. "And if those looking come forth? We will respond accordingly. This is not about Winter, Spring, Autumn, or Summer. Nor is it about Dawn or Dusk and all spectrums between. As a community, we have failed as pillars. Throw a stone and you will shatter your own glass walls. I suggest pride be buried, damning as it is and levels us all, but washed clean of such filth we can move forward to ensure the livelihood of all." Puritanical notes? Perhaps a nod to her Keeper, but all the same she continues, "Objectivity over subjectivity. Call upon Winter's aid, or mine, and I promise it will come. In a single snowflake or blizzard's tempest."

Gnash and Sistersmith get a, "I got a dive boat, I can go out fishing the next coupla days and get you some fish, brother. Lemme know what kinda fish you like after the meeting?" says Owen. To Sistermith he adds, "I bet Mark's got a great fish monger too, for his professional job." to Lena he adds, "Adhoc we've been helping folks at Valhalla until now - getting them a place to crash, making sure they're cared for as we can. it was adhoc, so that's why Ky got this meeting together,t o try to make it all organized and official."

Kyrie sighs when Melissa leaves then turns back, nodding to Owen, then telling Mark, "No need. Though I never turn down the opportunity for cookies of any kind." She glances around, then nods slightly to Tock. "As she said. I hadn't heard of any measures in place, really. The support group, yes, but other things? Not so much. So please, pick a member or two of your court, meet with people, then in a week or two we can meet again and discuss things again. And Gnash? If you want seafood, we can get you seafood. As much as you like. And if you decide you do want someplace besides a dumpster? We'll find it for you." She looks around for a moment, then says, "But still, thank you, all of you, for coming. It is good when we can band together as a community, regardless of Courts or not."

"Mn. Just because you can't plan for every contingency doesn't mean you shouldn't plan for any. The bottom line is, no matter what we do or how many times others might have done something like this elsewhere - we're still in uncharted territory. Trying to predict regular people is tantamount to herding cats;" Jericho finally does move as he speaks; shifting to more fully upright - a touch away from the wall - as one arm unlaces long enough to offer a throwaway gesture, loose fingered and palm upwards. "I do not believe any hard and fast system will be effective in the long term - no single solution will be effective for every problem we might face, given our..." Another idle gesture; this a more all-encompassing sweep of that hand. "'More things in Heaven and Earth' thing we've got going for us here. We need to plan for what we know, yes; but we also need to assume there's a whole hell of alot we don't know. Protocols over directives; but it'll be a learning experience one way or another."

Mark gives a little nod to Owen, then Gnash, "Several. Though, they like profit, so." Then, "Perhaps, we should each right down three areas in need of improvement, and then three ways in which we think would help solve that problem. Get specific."

"I'm more fortunate than many, in that I've found my own way fairly readily," Lena admits, speaking a bit more conversationally now that people don't seem to be getting annoyed by her interrupting with that hypnotic voice. "I just worry about others who might come after me that have harder challenges to overcome. I'll do what I can to help them, and if Valhallah here is a good place for them to come to look for aid, I'll happily pass that on." She smiles gratefully at Kyrie. "I'd also like to talk to you at some point, then, about what I might be able to do to help here." She looks around at everyone as she reaches up to brush silvery strands of hair behind an ear. "If nothing else, knowing who to tell new people to talk to or where to go for help is a big start."

"The Widow's Walk has an extensive seafood menu," Tock supplies readily, a small grin of amusement at this easier task to solve. Lena's question has her consulting her notes. "So far, we have shelter and food available at the Lighthouse, Valhalla, Mark and Melissa's farm, and Owen's boat. John Ihrck may be putting something together and Lilith Fairbliss may be opening a club with housing above. For jobs, Sistersmith has volunteered to take people on at Lovelace, Mark and Melissa offered their farm, Rhys has volunteered to help with job hunting, and again there is Lilith's club in the future. For technology, Sistersmith and I have volunteered to help people get updated. Owen mentioned getting some no-contract phones to have available in a small stock. Perhaps here? Or at the Lighthouse? Both? For paper trails and identification, Nyx has volunteered to help and Alireza has done so in the past. Then there are John Ihrck's counselling sessions and apparently some people with psychology backgrounds there? I think Melody is one, but I am not certain on that count. And then there are Winter's resources." She looks up, glancing around as if to confirm that list.

"I like that idea," Mark is told by Owen with a nod, and a smile for Kyrie. Another for Jericho. "I'm a Hedge Warden - you need help getting around the Hedge? Ican help. So is Mark," Owen points, "And we have a great, great healing team here," a nod to Tock, "Who can help you with any wounds or medical issues you want us to check out. We have doctors as well, ER specialists, medics, dream-healers." A nod to Tock, "I dunno what burner phones would do here. I guess as long as we kept the batteries out?" he hazards, looking around. "I'm not a tech expert at all."

"Get very little connection, I imagine. And I wouldn't answer if one got a call," The Sistersmith muses idly, though she, too, is back to taking notes.

Kyrie smiles a little to Lena. "I'm more than happy to talk with anyone. Just drop by here whenever you like, or give me a call if you're not a fan of coming into the Hedge." She glances at Tock, listening as the woman speaks and she smiles. "I also have a mortal gym, and this place, as far as jobs go. And I can offer financial support for any of these endeavors. Hell, I'll buy a couple dozen burner phones if we think that'll be useful."

"These burn?" Nyx asks in perfect deadpan, even as she tosses her phone into the chair beside her...a safe distance. Snow sylph, burning? No thank you.

Gnash drips a little drool from his mouth sorta like a famous hobbit after losing the ring for way too long when confronted with the prospect of fish. His attention perks for a time. "Floppy, still alive, fresh." He answers. The rest is not so important apparently. The juicy though of squishy chewy fish meat causes him to clap in giddy excitement for a moment. He settles quickly though and then the darkling looks over to where Nyx plays with the balloon version of him. He pauses and then concentrates for a moment. Both hands are held out in an empty display. Then he reaches up and plugs a nostril and he starts to blow. Apparently the darkling is full of tricks and two small narrow red balloons stream out of his nostrils. His head goes a little purple with effort. When they are extended he quickly ties them and starts to twist and turn them in effort. He coughs ones and popping out of his mouth into his waiting palm falls the sharply. He makes a lobster to go with the other balloon work. "Gnash likes these. They are so delicious inside. And no one ever locks the water tanks they live in." He offers it to Nyx.

"Not for /use/ here," Tock clarifies with a chuckle. "That would be less than helpful. Simply as a place for storage and distribution. If there is a better place...maybe at the gym instead of here, Kyrie?" Another glance given the Valkyrie for a possible yea or nay on that one. "'Burner phones' refers to phones that you can use and get rid of later, Nyx. Temporary, no-contract. Easier for people without identification and means in place yet."

"Not like that," Kyrie seconds to Nyx before she nods at Tock. "Maybe have some there, some at the Widow's Walk, if Winter is willing, maybe some at the farm? No reason to have them all stashed in one place."

Mark nods at this, "Of course." He goes to grab a few cookies then find a place to sit.

"They won't look too out of place in my workshop, either," the Sistersmith profeers.

"Well, I have more information to offer any new arrivals I come across than I did before," Lena says, smiling happily about this. "It sounds like there are some ideas on making things better, too. I'm glad for that. I want to help too, but I don't have much to offer other than time, patience, and the desire to make sure that we take care of our own. I'm glad to offer any combination of those things to other people's efforts."

"Honestly, we could probably just make a point of storing some at whatever mundane-side businesses we have control over. I am sure we could keep some out at the Airfield, as well. Simply for ease of access. We shouldn't need more than a few at any place at a given time," Tock volunteers after a thoughtful tilt of her head. She turns a smile toward Lena. "Those are some of the more helpful things to have on offer, actually."

"I don't know that everyone would want to have things stored in their place, but several, yes," Kyrie says, nodding to Tock, before she smiles at Lena. "Sometimes? That's all you need. This place? Wasn't done by me alone. Far from it. A lot of people had a hand in it. /That/ is what I'm going for. Community, bonding together to achieve more than we ever could alone."

Gnash makes more balloon creatures! But...with balloons from his nose. Nyx does not seem to know what to do with this. She reaches out with one unnaturally long finger, the cold touch focused on one solitary point popping that ligament of animal so the the balloon lobster now only has one claw. Nyx retracts her hands and folds them in her lap with a tilt of her head indicating apology to her fellow Winter. "Stashed all in one place brings attention. Better spread out." she agrees with Kyrie, eyeing her phone out of the corner of her eye as if expecting it to burst into flame.

Jericho seems to have fallen silent over the last few minutes - watching, perhaps; or simply listening. After a while, though, the Elemental draws a long, hollow sort of breath and straightened "I will help as well, if you will have me - though I fear my skillset;" Pause, just for a beat, then "And my world view is rather limited, and focused. Perhaps the best I can offer is to give those of a potentially similiar bent something to focus on."

"Seems like the meeting is coming to a natural end," The Sistersmith muses. Giving Jericho a nod. "I think that may be more valuable than you know. Letting people form connections, feel useful - it's very helpful."

"Jericho? Part of Valhalla's purpose is to help people learn and hone skills. Not just fighting skills, but all skills. Owen? Teaches first aid. Several teach swimming and diving. Gardening, cooking. We welcome all manner of help here," Kyrie assures Jericho with a smile. She nods then to Sistersmith. "Sounds like. Which isn't a bad thing. We have tasks to do until the next one, and things to think about."

"Fighting's what I do - even..." There's another pause there - though unlike the previous momentary breaths, this time Jericho seems to fade for a moment, as if withdrawing from the here and now before the Metalflesh abrubtly shakes his head to clear it, straightening a heartbeat later and picking up. "Even before; but, hell. No matter what direction we decide to go with this, I'll do what I can."

"I think you might be right," Lena says in that voice like soothing moonlight, offering Sistersmith a smile. "I wanted to speak with you about something by the way, Grace, if you have a few moments when we're done. A fashion favor to ask." Her smile remains as she turns back to Kyrie to say, "despite the rocky waters earlier, and especially because of them, I'm grateful you asked people to come together on this topic."

"At the very least, we've established a list of potential referrals for when people have needs and questions in the future. I'd call that a good start," Tock supplies, tapping her note pad as if in illustration. "And that there were so many people here expressing interest and volunteering aid is, in itself, a boon."

"Indeed," Mark says with a cheerful smile and warm expression as he looks around.

Nyx rises to her feet and gathers up her book and the balloon Gnash balanced on top of it. "May I keep this?" she asks him softly before turning to address Kyrie, "My services of identification have been offered. Those wishing to reach me may leave word for me at the Widow. I am through there frequently. Daily, even." ((i.e. send me an @mail and I will find ya! :D)) "As for now, I need to go and search for deaths unnoticed..and watch, of course." A glancing sweep of her glacial eyes and she extends to the others. "Light or dark keep you, whatever your preference may be. Nyx. Winter's Watch." She bobs her head in a nod of farewell and repeats as she starts to inch towards the door, "Word at the Widow."

Kyrie nods, then offers Nyx a faint smile. "And they'll be passed on to those who need them," she answers. "Thank you for coming. All of you. Stay as long as you like, eat whatever you wish."

"Gnash doesn't want it." The creature then lifts and he starts to head out. "It's yours." He adds.