Session 13: 'This Accelerating Rate of Change'

Session 13 is an advancement session. The session is focused on the party gaining the FATE rp experience points equivalent. Our characters get to put on their character sheets the improvements in skills and power that they've earned. This session is theoretically light on role-playing; the goal is to cover ground and do advancement. Fred intended to whip through five years of story time in this session, so that session 14 would pick up five years after session 12.

Small problem: this group of players doesn't always need plot so much as an opportunity to cause trouble. Four hours into the session, Fred (who had counted on a short session) said, "Can we get on to year two, please?"

Poor Fred.

So, keeping in mind that 5 years are passing and that much of the session reflects the first year, the quotes reflect less context than usual this time. That's because there is considerably less context to work with.

We last left our Party returning from the Land, with Sybil's mother Faiella and infant in tow.

Players and Characters:

Lydia ........ Cyrus
Shai ........ Sonnet
Scott ........ Benedict
Jarrod ....... Osric
Rob ........ Finndo
Deborah ...... Sybil
Fred ........ GM

Stat line up:

-2 Poor
-1 Mediocre
0 Average
1 Fair
2 Good
3 Great
4 Superb
5 Epic
6 Legendary
7 Legendary +1
etc.

<hr>

Jarrod and Fred work together. On sincerity:

GM: "I was writing up notes in the office on Friday and the session title made me think of something for Osric."
Jarrod: "You _chittered_."
GM: "I apologized."
Jarrod: "No you didn't."
GM: "I meant to."
Jarrod: "Apologies while chittering merrily not so much."

This accelerating rate of change is a reference to a song by Peter Gabriel, titled 'Downside Up'. When basic trust is an issue:

GM: "It involved 'this accelerating rate of change'."
Rob: "The only constant I am sure of is this accelerating rate of change."
Deborah: "That's Sybil's theme song!"
Rob: "I /know/."
GM, reassuringly: "This will not be a Sybil episode."
Deborah: "Thank God!"

Sybil, as the players (but not the characters) have determined, is actually Deirdre, a character from Roger Zelazny's Amber series, on which this game is loosely based. Deirdre, in the books, is yanked into the Abyss by the mad Prince Brand; she falls to her presumed death. Fred likes themes. That's okay. Love your themes, just don't loooooove your themes:

Deborah: "Every time we have a Sybil episode, I end up falling and dying. I don't know what it is but there's lots of falling and dying."
Rob: "Strange, that."
Jarrod to GM: "This is the part where you chitter merrily, by the way."
GM: "I'm chittering on the inside."

Learning curves in motion:

GM: "You had recently departed the Land, having a deposed and possibly powerless Queen in tow, carrying a small child. Still infant, not walking, definitely in its first year, if it's human. So. Where to from here?"
Rob: "Well. Considering the whole geographical departure of the Land thing doesn't work so much, does anyone have any objection to just going straight back to Court?"
Everyone: "NO."

Sybil is not fond of her mother, too put it mildly. Being a bit too eager:

Finndo: "I pull the brothers aside and ask if anyone has any objection to something happening on the way back to our guest."
Deborah raises her hand eagerly.
Shai: "You're not there."
Jarrod: "I don't think you were asked."
Lydia, quoting West Wing: "And if he's a very good boy, we won't shoot him in the head on the way back."

Would this be diagnosed as psychopathy or sociopathy? How bout just plain immoral?

Finndo: "Babies are cute."
Cyrus: "And they make great sacrifices."
Finndo: "Finndo likes kids. But you know what, he likes his lunch, too."
Scott: "Just to put things in the proper perspective."

Tugging on those old family ties and heart-strings:

Sybil, muttering and glaring at her mother: "Fucking twit."
Finndo: "This seems an excellent time to practice your writing, Sybil."
Sybil: "But I can't spell fucking twit."
Finndo: "An excellent reason to practice."

Friends help you become literate:

Sonnet, helping: "F-u-c-k-i-n-g."
Sybil: "C-u... how do you make an n?"
Finndo sighs.

How do men cope? Avoidance mechanisms:

Benedict: "Brother, I'm riding on ahead."
Osric: "I think I'll be joining you."
Cyrus: "I think I'll take rear guard."
Finndo: "I'm fussing over the baby. Oooowargwargwarg. Oooohowyashoin. Yeeesss."

Positioning yourself for success and convenient murder:

Finndo: "We are not walking this lady into the castle. We will enter through the city, to my townhouse, where they will be left in good care-"
GM: "Under guard?"
Finndo: "Under guard, so that Oberon and Piero may be briefed before we walk in with the Queen of Air and Darkness."
Cyrus: "And if we choose not to walk in with the Queen of Air and Darkness?"
Finndo: "Exactly."

A crib is arranged for the Queen's baby boy. Sybil is outraged. Cyrus is practical:

Sybil: "You put your children in BOXES."
Cyrus, not unkindly: "Easily buried boxes."

The heart overruled by too many horror movies:

GM: "I thought you liked children."
Cyrus: "Not ones pulled out of Faerie land. Not ones pulled out of a rip in the space-time continuum. It's clearly evil."

So. How's Mom?:

Lydia: "What is the status of the Queen."
Rob: "Officially declared Traitor."

Sweet, loyal concern with a psychotic twist:

GM: "Cynthia's still asleep."
Cyrus: "Interesting. Cyrus continues to terrify servants."
GM: "The servants say that she has stirred occasionally but hasn't come to."
Cyrus: "I continue to loom."

Oberon, it seems, has been avoiding running the kingdom. Finndo, once in residence, immediately goes to see him, and is met with a barred and guarded door. Poor guard. Trapped between the Prince and the door:

GM: "One of the other things you hear is that during the week you were away, Oberon has been keeping to himself a lot; his schedule has been very small and if people can be put off, they've been put off."
The guardsmen salute: "He's been behind a locked door all day."
Finndo: "Do you mind if I knock?"
The guard shrugs helplessly in a 'and what am I going to do about it' manner.

Finndo knocks. And makes some forgivable assumptions:

Oberon: "I said no interruptions."
Finndo: "My apologies, Father."
GM: "Click. Door opens."
Finndo: "Thank you very much."
Finndo sniffs the air. To the GM: "How drugged is he?"
GM: "He's not."

Tactfully phrasing 'something you want to tell us, Dad?'

Finndo: "I was looking at your calendar; you've been quite not-busy."
Oberon: "Haven't had a lot of time to deal with petty bits."
Finndo: "Something else afoot?"
Oberon: "Follow up."
Finndo: "We've penciled ourselves in for this evening."
Oberon: "Sounds fine."

Less tactfully phrasing it:

Finndo: "The Queen of Fairy and her son are currently down in my townhouse in my city."
Oberon face-palms.
Finndo, helpfully: "There are other details we'll go into later, but I thought I'd arm you with that tidbit."

Whether we want to kill her <=> You did or still want to shtup her, Dad:

Oberon: "Why is she here?"
Finndo: "Because we were not sure whether we wanted to kill her or not."

Volunteerism at its most eager:

Oberon: "Ah. That might be tricky."
Deborah: "No, it's not!"

Daaaaad, you never let us have any /fun/:

Finndo: "That's possible. However, she was named and bound by the Prince of Colors. She has fallen somewhat from her previous status; if her death is something to be desired, now is an ideal time to go about it."
Oberon: "No, but I want her someplace more secure."
Finndo: "Understood, but I wanted to keep her out of the castle until I knew what you wanted. There are places in Shadow -"
Oberon: "No, I want her where I can see her. This might be part of other things."

Give him this: Oberon's a consistent sort of parent:

Finndo: "Understood. The child is quite young - an infant."
Oberon shrugs.

Volunteering Assistance:

Jarrod: "Osric will have the drinks trolley sent up with his compliments."

Forthcoming with the details not so much the family trait:

Finndo: "As for the follow up, is there anything that we can assist with?"
Oberon: "I've been thinking about that."
Finndo: "If you wish to hold off till the meeting this evening, I understand completely."
Oberon: "It's going to require all of you at some point but how soon? Months, years, can't say."

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, drink and shout. Alcoholism, on the other hand:

Finndo: "I assume this is going to be sustained for at least a time? Looking at the current schedule?"
Oberon looks round the room a moment before he answers: "Yeah."
Finndo: "I will make arrangements to begin picking up the slack."
Oberon: "Kay." He gets up and actually opens the door himself, "Oh! Drinks!"
Finndo: "Delightful. Okay, Dad."

Sonnet, before she left for the Land with everyone else, sent Selm a note inquiring about training options. A letter is waiting for her when she returns. Reading different things into the same innuendo:

Selm: "My time is flexible. I await your convenience."
Deborah: "At least he didn't say _I_ am flexible."
GM, too smoothly: "Perhaps that was implied."
Sonnet: "Oh lovely; he wants me to make the first move."

Sybil is being given her own lab since she's happily been burning down barracks in her experiments. What do you give an elementalist for a working lab?

Finndo: "Things are being ordered for the abandoned barracks so that Sybil has a proper lab; what is being ordered is being ordered of a particularly durable nature."
Jarrod: "Rebar..."

People (and the absence of people) as security blankets:

GM: "Piero additionally has not been seen since the return."
Sonnet: "If it's not already arranged, a request to have Sybil moved to an adjoining room or one next to hers at least."
Deborah: "Sybil seems to be in a remarkably good mood after that."

The party meet with Oberon for dinner and a debriefing. Finndo explains the shift of the power balance in Fae, with Osrat stepping up to the plate and the Prince of Colors taking the Silver Queen's throne while retaining his own (and throwing her out of the Land, hence her presence in Finndo's care). Oberon and his sons have very different notions of what to do with her; when secure means either 'close at hand' or 'locked behind iron bars':

Finndo: "Whereas the Prince seems to have adopted the throne of the Queen and raised his own position. We have gotten concessions out of both to remain out of our affairs and we have returned with the Queen and her son; they are currently lodged in my townhouse for the moment."
Lydia: "Pending removal."
Oberon: "I think it makes sense to move them to the castle."
Finndo: "I will arrange for secure quarters."

Real casual like (Anything you want to TELL US, Dad? ANYTHING?):

Finndo: "Oh, I ask him over the course of dinner if he knows if Piero's all right."
Oberon: "Should be."
Finndo: "Okay. Hasn't been around."

You give a man his head and he just falls nose down. Sheesh:

Finndo: "We migrate to after dinner drinks where Sonnet and Sybil are excused and Cyrus is given the opportunity to wander around killing anyone spying on us."
Lydia rolls poorly.
Finndo: "You just can't get good help these days."

Euphemisms for 'Set You Up To Die' and 'No Fucking Clue':

Finndo: "I presume that there are extended complications regarding our dear mother."
Oberon: "Several things."
Finndo: "Very well. What can we do?"
Oberon: "Piero and I are re-examining the circumstances that drew us off to figure out if it was a part of their ploy or simply... "
Finndo: "Poor timing."
Oberon: "Results are as yet inconclusive."

Remember, the Queen - a daughter of Nod, a sorceress and a bad-ass - is now a traitor. Taking bad news calmly, a how-to demonstration:

Finndo: "Here's a question for you, Father: what do the children of Nod know of the thing in the basement?"
Oberon: "Near as I can tell, nothing when I first showed up. How much your mother has come to know in intervening years, she didn't share."
Finndo: "Interesting. Is there a reason to think she might be able to use it?"
Oberon: "There's reason."
Finndo: "All right."

Yes, I _will_ enjoy your pain, why do you ask?

Finndo: "Oh, I believe that Benedict has news regarding his wedding."
Osric claps Benedict on the shoulder and grins toothily at him.
Benedict stares uneasily back at Osric.
Finndo: "I thought we established a time-frame."
Benedict, remembering: "Summer."
Oberon: "In the forest."

Weddings: seating charts, chaos and mayhem, family politics - who says Amber is all that different? What, Ben, don't you /like/ your relatives?

Benedict, unhappily: "I assume EVERYONE will be attending."
Oberon: "Welcome to the family!"
Osric: "You say that like it's a _bad_ thing."

Rub it in good:

Finndo: "I think I'll be arranging a spring ball here to introduce Alyra to the court unless you think it will complicate matters."
Oberon: "No. If anything, it will keep people busy."
Finndo sighs: "In that case, I believe that Ben's wedding is the most pressing mundane matter at hand."
Osric to Benedict: "Don't you feel special."

Someone is thinking longingly of Anywhere Else:

Oberon: "We have time for it."
Benedict, muttered: "Oh, that's So reassuring."

Oberon to Cyrus: "I asked Piero about your wife; same problem with the brain."
Benedict: "I may be able to help with that at some point."
Cyrus: "No."
Benedict: "I actually wasn't referring to Cynthia; I was referring to Dulcea."
Finndo: "In that case we have the brief exchange to make it clear that we're at his disposal.."

Finndo: "Oh, Ben's getting married. His schedule's tied up."
Deborah, sweetly, to Scott: "Which do you want for invitations: sepia or light autumn brown? Which inspires your heart more, my love?"
Scott twitches.

Oberon tells Benedict to walk with him. The peanut gallery support spree begins:

Rob: "Do you think when he's done he'll have that pinched lemon face, or the more slack jawed..."
Jarrod: "Or more the I just a lemon rammed up my ass face."
Scott winces.
Jarrod, happily: "I suppose I'll go knit now."

Getting what you need isn't always what you want:

Oberon: "I've decided to let you continue your little experiment with the guard."
Benedict: "Oh, that's so reassuring."

On perspectives, different on crime and uses of:

Oberon: "It is occasionally useful to allow corruption to exist, but I've decided it's an expendable asset."
Benedict: "Corruption is not all going away. I've been toying with some ideas, but there's always going to be crime -"
Oberon: "I'm not saying that. There's a certain -"
Benedict: "Unfortunately -"
Oberon: "- order to how things are. You're going to be altering that."

Not by accident:

Benedict: "Yes, well, there's a certain effectiveness the guard needs that it currently lacks."
Oberon: "How bout that."

Oberon at least seems consistent about being a cold bastard to his sons; isn't it nice of him to allow Benedict to cover his back?

Benedict: "Yes, but I have a feeling that's something you're going to need in the next few years."
Oberon: "Like I said, I've decided to let you proceed."
Rob: "Mmmm, warmth."

Uncomforting assurances:

Oberon shakes his head. Sighs at length. "I need you to leave Piero alone for a bit; I know you've been studying with him. I need all his attention directed and the man has an unfortunate tendency to get distracted by students."
Benedict: "All right. I will need to ask him questions at some point, mainly in regards to the protection of my future wife and her family; I'm concerned about a reprise of what happened to Selm."
Oberon: "Ah."
Benedict: "And they are clearly targets. Now I can do what I can physically to protect them but I ... there are many many many other methods with which they can be struck at."
Oberon thinks. Stops. "I found that using the Pattern to fend off the advances of magic has not always been predictable but at least has some success. You'll be able to protect yourself if you feel something like that coming on you. It requires concentration but I believe you are capable of it. As for the others, I'm not sure you want Piero's help."
Benedict: "Why?"
Oberon: "He's creative."
Rob: "He'll make them VERY safe."
Benedict: "_Oh_."
Oberon: "I've got things to do." He peels off.

Meanwhile, Sonnet has decided that her role as Finndo's secretary will require her to keep secrets - and Lucan's not an ideal companion for that role. She is sending him back to the Isles of the Sun to seek amusement elsewhere. Now, remember: pirates attack anyone. Privateers attack anyone but their home port. Niceties are important:

Shai: "How's the talk with Lucan ago? Does he like the idea of being assigned to the south to be a pirate again, with Finndo's blessing?"
Rob: "Privateer."
Shai: "Privateer... right."
Rob: "Merchant Prince."
Lucan: "Anything to get me away from this Circus."

Sweet, sad goodbyes and agreed upon lies:

Sonnet: "I have a feeling I'm going to be sent away for a while, for Training."
Lucan: "You've gotten into things way out of my league, sister."
Sonnet: "Hopefully, I'll get to see you now and again. Technically, I _will_ be seeing you now and again."
Lucan: "Right. Of course you will."
Sonnet: "Of course."
Lucan: "Right. Let me know if you're summering in the Isles."
Sonnet: "Finndo wants to do a formal introduction of you to Sejak."
Finndo, cheerily: "This will keep you from being hunted down and killed."
Lucan: "I'm sorry. Look after yourself."
Sonnet: "Ditto. Don't get yourself killed - and watch that leg."

Irrepressible lad, isn't he? Better than sending flowers:

GM: "When you get back to your room that evening..." He pauses for effect. "At first you think there's someone in your bed and then you realize that Lucan has managed to steal some of Selm's clothes and a mask."
Sonnet: "That sack of shit! I will toast the clothes."
GM: "And then you realize some time later Lucan put on some lingerie under the clothes."

Sensibilities are so easy to offend:

Finndo: "And before he goes, Lucan is getting a chest of cash."
Lucan: "Who'd you want me to take this to?"
Finndo: "It's yours."
Lucan: "What's the point of being a pirate if I can't steal shit like that?"
Finndo: "Use it to get set up, then go about your business."

Time is passing, this being an advancement session. A week goes by, and... Rewards for good performance:

GM: "Cyrus, a week later, your wife wakes up.."
Cyrus: "I terrify the servants a little less."

Waking up to a looming Cyrus, wouldn't you want to go back to sleep?

GM: "So, are you hovering?"
Cyrus: "Oh god yes."
Lydia: "And Cynthia thinks, I should just stay unconscious a while longer."

Tiny little complication:

GM: "She's drifting in and out; eventually she's awake for a time, manages to sit up, she looks around, "Excuse me, where am I?"
Cyrus: "The infirmary."
Cynthia: "And you would be?"

Enjoying the job and not hiding it:

Lydia stares at the GM: "Oh dear."
GM grins into his drink.

You can take the memories from the woman but you can't take the bitch out, too:

Deborah: "Wait, Cynthia has the chance to turn into a real human being! With FEELINGS, and stuff."
Jarrod in Osric's voice: "No. Not really."

Cyrus: "What do you remember?"
Cynthia: "I'm not quite sure."
Cyrus: "Do you remember your name?"
Cynthia: "Of course, it's - " Unhappy silence. She blinks. "No."
Cyrus, very gently: "Excuse me."
Lydia: "Cyrus goes to Yell At A Servant."

Finndo greets Cynthia's return to consciousness with a mostly straight face. Finndo's getting very very good at taking things in stride:

Finndo: "Ma'am, I understand your experience has been disorienting."
Cynthia: "That's perhaps an understatement."
Finndo: "I see. Are you comfortable?"
Cynthia: "I'm a bit stiff."
Finndo: "I imagine that Cyrus has gone to great effort to ensure that every physical comfort will be provided -"
Cynthia: "Is that what his name is?"
Finndo: "I see."
Jarrod: "Even Finndo has to double take at that one."

Smoooooooth, Finndo. In like Flynn:

Finndo: "I take it the physician has not exaggerated; you are completely without memory of your situation."
Cynthia: "Yes."
Finndo: "You are Lady Cynthia Rosewood; you are the daughter of the now deceased Admiral Boyd; you are the wife of Sir Cyrus Rosewood."
Cynthia: "That frightening man is my husband."
Finndo: "Yes, but he is only frightening out of his concern for you."

Lydia is still expecting Finndo to lie better, even after the last time (cf. Session 9, when Cyrus was arrested for murder):

Jarrod: "Should have sent me in to do the lying."
Rob: "Finndo doesn't _lie_; he presents the truth usefully."

Let's leave out the part where your husband slew a war hero, impersonated him and took his awards, including you:

Cynthia: "How exactly did I come to that?"
Finndo: "That is sufficiently complicated that I fear the explanation is not known to us and I fear it will be confusing and troubling to you."
Cynthia: "Let's leave it off then."

A husband's sweet concern:

Finndo: "Would you like reading material?"
Cynthia: "Yes."
Finndo: "I believe Cyrus is finished beating the pillow stuffers -"

Not the bitch, and not the sycophant, apparently:

Cynthia: "I didn't catch your name?"
Finndo: "Prince Finndo."
Cynthia: "Ah, A prince! Forgive me for not rising."

And doesn't she sound thrilled?

Finndo: "Not at all. I'm sure Cyrus will see to your every need."
Cynthia: "... Yes."

Finndo steps outside and expresses deep consolation to Cyrus. Now, when Cyrus left on the last jaunt away from the castle, Cynthia was in a coma and, the gentle reader will recall, their daughter Aine had been fed to the mountain Kolvir. Cyrus wrote her a letter, explaining these unfortunate details from the unique Cyrus-perspective (in which Cynthia was bewitched and he will not rest until he has rescued their daughter). He left the letter by her bedside - and did not just now collect it on his way out. This is why to-do lists should be _detailed_:

GM to Finndo: "You did not mention Aine at all."
Finndo: "He did not at all and he told Cyrus that he did not."
GM: "SO, Cyrus, when you go back in the room, she's reading that letter you left her."
Jarrod: "Let's try that again, without the oops."

And the marriage bed bickering starts:

Cynthia: "So what on earth did you get me into?"
Jarrod: "It's All Your Fault."
Cyrus: "Actually, I rather think you got yourself into this one."

Wow. Four year old kids dismissed quickly in this town:

Cynthia: "I have no basis for disputing that; it's possible. That nice Prince fellow, he neglected the bit about our daughter - "
Cyrus: "I expect he did not want to upset you."
Cynthia: "I don't seem to be upset about it."
Cyrus: "Likely because you have no memory."

Giving into temptation and starting the new marriage off on the right lie:

Cynthia: "So. Tell me about yourself."
Lydia: "Ah, the merits of lying versus not lying."
Jarrod points out helpfully: "This is where your illusions of reality come in handy."
Cyrus: "Cyrus explains how he's a war hero; he leaves out, really, his past in general."
GM: "She does appear to respond well to the fact that you're a baronet."

My credentials, forged, my lady wife, are:

Shai prompts: "And you speak eloquently of your feelings for her."
Rob predicts: "No."
Cyrus confirms: "No. Cyrus presents his cheerfully deluded self image."
GM: "She has no reason to dispute it yet."

Never mind the missing kid, let's focus on our tax liabilities:

Cyrus: "Cyrus explains the lands he holds in typical deluded happy singing people terms."
Cynthia: "Does that involve a lot of bookkeeping?"
Cyrus: "A certain amount of it."
Cynthia: "I have a vague sense of having done that."
Cyrus, encouraging: "Good."

No kidding, GM. How convenient of you, my lord husband:

Cyrus: "Cyrus provides a brief political summary of the King, his sons Finndo, Benedict and Osric, and the Queen and the history of the Queen leading up to having done the following things that are bad, again in typical Cyrus delusional black and white."
GM: "If she notices that at all, she says nothing about it."
Sonnet: "Cynthia, the innocent, duped by the treacherous Queen."
Cyrus: "Right."
GM: "She does seem delighted that that's your perspective."

Heeelllloooo, KID? Anyone? Kid?

GM: "Anything else you're doing? Her memories are not coming back, or at least haven't towards the close of this month. Physically it takes her a while to get her legs back."
Cyrus: "Cyrus spends his time hovering and explaining. How long is it till Benedict's wedding?"
GM: "Two months or less."
Cyrus: "Cyrus therefore briefs her on the various things she'll need to know to show up at the wedding; these are the following people, this is what they care about."

Finndo, while Cyrus is off painting imaginary pictures by way of describing reality to his wife, has an assignment for Sonnet. He wants to send her to finishing school, and so he needs a reason to do so (in order that she can then come back from finishing school a polished and reformed sweet young lady or appropriate carriage and demeanor). He's looking for a small scandal. Tiny. Insignificant. And then there's the Karm approach:

Finndo: "If you could find yourself involved in some small problem - not killing anyone, but the lady being confronted by drunk men, perhaps, to require you being sent away to finishing school."
Sonnet: "I could wander through the castle in lingerie again."

Lies, damned lies, and Cyrus talking:

Cyrus: "He explains Boyd's history. And neglects to mention that her father committed suicide."
GM: "He passed away. Okay."

Sonnet takes to skulking about the castle at night to hone her, ah, skulking; she's hoping to contact Selm while she's about it. Contact is perhaps the wrong word:

GM: "One night you get back into the castle, late of course. You are fairly quiet, as is the person who appears to be following you."
Sonnet: "Where am I in the castle?"
GM: "Probably not yet inside the actual castle itself; you're in the courtyard, sticking to the shadows, testing yourself against the guardsmen."
Sonnet: "I will pause to hint that perhaps I may have heard a noise. Wait a second, and then keep going. He still following me?"
GM: "Yep."
Sonnet: "Objective is to actually get inside the castle and see if he still follows."
GM: "Okay. You're within about 15 paces of the door when you realize you've lost track of where that person might be."
Sonnet: "In which case, I will stop. And turn. And look."
GM: "As you're stopping, turning and looking - you're taking about a minute or so - the door you're approaching opens from the other side."
Selm: "I seem to have misplaced a mask. You wouldn't happen to know where it is?"

Approximately Three Sentences before the flirting starts:

Selm: "I seem to have misplaced a mask. You wouldn't happen to know where it is?"
Sonnet: "I might."
Selm: "Hm."
Sonnet: "Was it an especially favorite mask of yours?"
Selm: "I have many."
Sonnet: "Hrm. Guess you won't be wanting anything back, then. Pity. If you have a few moments, I'd be happy to fetch it for you."

And then the innuendo:

Selm: "I take it you haven't had any openings in your schedule."
Sonnet drawls: "Ooooh, here and there. They tend to keep me fairly busy. Usually when I think of it, it's at the most inconvenient moment - in the bath." Conversationally, "So how have you been?"
Selm: "I've been well."
Sonnet: "She goes through the door."

Sticking to the pleasant explanations:

Selm: "I've noticed your manservant isn't around."
Sonnet: "That is correct."
Selm: "Something bad happen?"
Sonnet: "No. Something good happened."
Selm: "Excellent. He took it, didn't he?"
Sonnet: "Uhm. Not so much take as... he likes to play jokes. "
Selm: "Ah."
Jarrod: "Theft is such an ugly word."

And then the real shamelessness:

Selm: "I take it you'd like me to leave him alone."
Sonnet: "Has he harmed you in some way?"
Selm: "I wasn't involved in the joke. I'm very put out."
Sonnet: "I could explain the rest of the joke; perhaps you'd find it amusing."
Selm: "I wouldn't want to keep you up."
Sonnet: "Not that the color won't be flattering on you."
Selm: "Fine fine. You've piqued my interest. Let's go."
Sonnet, sweetly: "I'm so sorry."

They go to her room. Being a careful housekeeper:

GM: "Did you keep the mannequin?"
Shai: "Of course. It's on her cupboard."

A pithy remark just seems unnecessary:

Selm: "It's a rather poor likeness."
Sonnet: "Well it was dark and I was drunk. How would you have done it better?"
Selm: "It's not tall enough."
Sonnet: "Well, let's get it out."
Selm: "What on earth am I wearing under my shirt?!"

Reasonable arguments appeal to a man's sense of ego:

Sonnet: "I told you it wasn't my color."
Selm: "And you're sure I need to leave this man alone?"
Sonnet: "Yes! He rather likes you; I think admires you in some perverse way."

Southern Women, Karm Women, WAH!

Selm: "You wrote me a note a while back."
Sonnet: "I did, I think. Oh, yes, about training."
Selm: "How would you like to be trained?"
Sonnet: "With a sword, or would you prefer spankings?"
Rob groans, clutching his head: "World... of Pain."

Hey, you take your ego where you can:

Selm: "I pride myself as a diverse man."
Jarrod: "Or perverse."
Sonnet offers him the mask.
Selm: "Thank you."

Oh, now, that's comforting:

Sonnet: "The clothing."
Selm: "It's been replaced."
Sonnet: "Oh good. Wouldn't want you to smell like perfume."
Selm: "That's not an issue."

Negotiating. I need a Scott Expression for this. God help me:

GM: "SO. Out of Character. How do you want this evening to end?"
Sonnet: "How does Selm want this evening to end."
GM: "Selm prides himself on being a diverse man."
Sonnet: "Sonnet's not going to make the first move."
Rob: "We have a sex based Mexican stand off going. Whoever fucks first loses."

Bargaining... with a price. Scott's sanity:

GM: "Well, the tension may get high but it won't go any further; he won't make the first move either.."
Shai: "Sonnet wants regular practice times - with a sword."
GM: "And that's the source of many metaphors, both on and off color. And so before you're shipped off to school, sword training commences."
Scott is by now sitting with one fist against his cheek, looking about 190 years old and incredibly pained.

So. The wedding between Alyra Dorr and Prince Benedict takes place that Summer, binding a Prince of the Realm to the daughter of a Far Lord. Sonnet, who is (we think) secretly in love or attracted to or otherwise preoccupied with Benedict, needs to work out some issues. Somehow, this translates to the menfolk as Time To Run:

Shai: "After the wedding, Sonnet is going to get blind drunk, grab the nearest male, promise not to kill him, and work out some frustrations."
Rob: "I fear proximity."
Lydia: "Finndo doesn't have frustrations."
Jarrod: "Ah, the power of alcohol."

While that's going on, Sybil settles her mother, the deposed Queen of Air and Darkness, into her new life as the castle madwoman. Sybil's example of this is Sonnet's treatment of Sybil. Finndo's example of this seems to involve - well, Finndo:

Sybil: "Sybil is actually trying to make sure she's okay."
GM: "She appears to have arranged her room so she always occupies the corner farthest from the door and watches it constantly."
Finndo: "Excellent. Finndo is charming and conversational and fusses over the baby."
GM: "She is not conversational."
Finndo: "That's fine."
Jarrod: "Because Finndo can fill the silence."

Knowing your target (and someone explain the menfolk's enthusiasm?):

Finndo: "Finndo arranges for maids. Faiella's maids will be meek and helpful and provide what Faiella needs but won't ask for. Sybil's will be an iron willed grandmother."
Jarrod: "YES."
Scott: "You vill be vearing this today."
Jarrod: "You vill not argue!"
Finndo: "No, she's one of the very very sweet ones."

Sybil's maid is an iron willed grandmother who is on the surface amazingly sweet and completely unmovable, full of concern and good intentions and soothing words and pats while killing your willpower to fight back by smothering it with kindness. (Whimper.) Naturally, she wins and Sybil finally resorts to the absolute last resort. It is said that stress brings out a person's true character, after all:

Sybil: "FIIIINNNNNNDOOO! Whimpering, "Sonnet...?"
Sybil: "Sybil eventually emerges, dressed very appropriately to a young woman - rather like Karm dresses Sonnet, only older. Very appropriate, flattering, suitable, blue muslin, matching ribbons in the hair, rather sweet. She looks _adorable_, except for the gigantic scowl on her face when she storms into Finndo's office and says, "WAAAAAHHHHH."
Finndo, cheerfully: "Sybil, you look adorable."
Sybil, wailing: "Look what she DID why can't we kill her or *anyone* we haven't killed anyone in WEEKS WAAAAAAH."

And back to the wedding, and goals for it - keep Benedict calm, solve the riddle of the nature of the universe, all that little pre-wedding stuff:

Osric: "1) Deflect the hovering wedding prep people from Benedict."
Rob: "There are many of them."
Osric: "He will give them that look, the rain exploding look."
GM, obligingly understating: "That works."
Osric: "And 2) he looks into that whole where magic came from thing."

Shai needs to be kept too busy to think - ala Charles Bergeron:

Shai: "Oh there's a thought; Sonnet and Sybil being responsible for Oberon taking an interest in Faiella because they cleaned her up."
Deborah: "Shai, you're broken."
Scott, softly, "Yeeesss. She IS broken."

So. Skulking around the castle at night, Sonnet runs into the _other_ man she ought to be avoiding: Benedict. Issues ensue.

Sonnet: "Hi. Am I in trouble?"
Benedict: "No, you're doing excellent work. Keep it up. I just... need to get out."
Sonnet: "I understand. Need any help with that?"
Deborah: "Not a conversation you two need to be having."

Just a thought:

Benedict: "Actually, Osric seems to be handling things in that regard."
Sonnet: "Anything you would like me to do for your intended?"
Deborah: "Kill her."
Scott: "No helping."
Benedict doesn't seem to know what to say to that.

The uses of a reputation:

Sonnet: "I heard she's coming for the ball."
Benedict: "If you would keep an eye on her."
Sonnet: "I would be happy to; I'll make arrangements for ball gowns."
Benedict hesitates.
Sonnet: "The same tailor who got Sybil together."
Benedict: "That WOULD be helpful."

Sorry; bit pre-programmed to Karm Signals:

Shai: "Sonnet is radiating helpfulness and goodwill and... charm. No innuendos."
Deborah: "/Run/."

Lydia has consistently been rolling terribly. Jarrod, who historically can fail rolls that are physically impossible to fail, has been rolling beautifully. On Karma:

Jarrod rolls a +3.
Lydia: "I now have Jarrod's dice luck, apparently."
Jarrod: "YES!!"

Random exchange:

Shai: "Women are confusing."
Scott, looking pained and whimpering a bit, nods emphatically.

To each their own mechanism:

Deborah: "Yeah, but Sonnet's not actually coping."
Shai: "Sonnet's got Selm."
Deborah: "Sonnet's not actually coping with Selm, though."
Shai: "She takes a lot of cold baths."

And no, you little Fae, we are not going to have That Talk because god only knows how you would react to the birds and the bees metaphor:

Deborah: "Which Sybil doesn't actually get. She asks if that would work on Faiella."
Sonnet: "No. No, it wouldn't."
Sybil: "Oh."

Osric, researching that little matter of reality, visits Tarraign at the Academy. In so doing, he notices a one sided correspondence chess game between Tarraign and Someone Else; Tarraign is losing. Denial, wistfully denied:

Lydia volunteers: "Correspondence chess with Quinn."
Jarrod: "You you you BAD person you."
Lydia: "You didn't think of that."
Jarrod: "I didn't WANT to think of that."

Style points:

Osric: "Is there a table by the door?"
GM: "Spend a fudge point, and there's a table by the door."
Osric: "He'll leave a note on the table: one dot e five, then he'll leave."

Osric is researching the time before Oberon, which means reading about the old empire of Ildros. A short, sweet and troubling description of a place:

GM to Osric: "There are stacks upon stacks upon stacks of letters on the ancient, ancient empire of Ildros; most of it is in Ildrosi, which means it's very self flattering. Nod may have been reading textbooks he couldn't carry out, or he may have - the cult centers around snakes, and the priests have gotten very very good at extracting the venom. So most people go to Ildros to... secure assets."

Refrigerated wife:

Cyrus, speaking of Cynthia: "Does she show affection?"
GM: "She's too - no. Not yet."
Deborah: "Is it cold ice no affection or I just don't really know where I stand yet no affection."
GM: "The latter."
Deborah: "So she's not a cold bitch and perhaps she's not frigid."
Jarrod: "She's just chilly."

Can you hear the woman think 'and how does this add to my status'?

Cyrus: "I tell her that I'm a bastard of the King."
Cynthia: "Does anyone else know?"
Cyrus: "The other princes."
Cynthia: "... oh."

Finndo does some math and realizes that there's a possibility that Cynthia went up the mountain (where she was knocked out and her daughter stolen) with the Queen willingly, having been suborned into whatever plot spawned the treason to begin with. So the good, gallant Prince takes advantage of the lady's vulnerability to search her quarters for useful evidence. Suspicion is contagious, isn't it, Fred?

Finndo: "Oh dear. I just had a thought. Sonnet, I have a job for you. I will provide a trump to get you to Baron Rast's holding, which is quite close. I believe the Lady Rosewood will be more comfortable with more of her personal effects with her."
GM, suspiciously: "What are you doing?"
Finndo: "I'm sending Sonnet for Cynthia's things. And if she happens to find, oh, I don't know, DIARIES OF HIDDEN CORRESPONDENCE [from the traitor Queen Cymnea], that's okay, too."

Finndo arranges the coming out ball for Alyra. Sybil convinces her mother, Faiella, to attend the ball, which she states will be 'tomorrow'. Now, Fae have no sense of time and tomorrow is not a concept they grasp. Finndo drops by to say hello and has to get out on a convenient solution. On simplistic solutions:

Faiella: "Is it tomorrow yet?"
Finndo: "Not as yet.."
Faiella: "Is it tomorrow yet?"
Finndo: "Ah. This is a candle. When it burns down, it will be tomorrow.."
Faiella: "It has markings."
Finndo: "Yes, and as it passes each marking, time passes."
Faiella: "It's a magic candle."

Well, at least she's got a learning curve:

Finndo: "Sybil, it is time to bring you in on the conspiracy."
Sybil, unenthused: "Another one."
Finndo, cheerily: "Wacky madcap antics!"
Sybil, warily: "I don't know that I've encountered those sort of antics before."

Finndo explains that the conspiracy is to get Benedict and Alyra alone together for sweet romantic moments without knowing that they're alone with each other. Diplomacy is dismissing unpleasant details with a wave of a hand:

Finndo: "The secret agenda is counting on magic, sleight of hand, confusion and the swapping of costumes. With the end result being that Benedict and Alyra are spending the evening together without realizing it."
Sybil: "Why."
Finndo: "Because they're cute kids."
Sybil points out: "I believe that Prince Benedict would be offended to hear the words 'cute kid' applied to him."
Finndo waves that off: "Yes, well."

Rob occasionally has these moments of Doing The Math; these moments inevitably result in a) swearing, b) exposition, c) swearing from everyone else after he explains, d) a vastly interested GM sopping up the moment like a sponge. I am going to buy Rob a shiny little baseball cap with two words written out in little blinking red lightbulbs: NO HELPING.

Rob: "Oh crap oh crap oh crap."
Deborah: "What."
Rob: "Piero needs dead brains. Quinn does not."
Deborah: "Yes. We knew that."
Rob: "Quinn is entirely capable of offering to... help."
GM, visibly delighted: "OH! Oh. Yes! _Oh_."
Deborah glares: "Okay, Rob, please don't suggest things to the GM."

Benedict, before the ball, approaches Dorr (Alyra's father, who knows what happened to poor Alyra but has insisted she marry Benedict anyway) and informs the man that he has found a magic shell that will remove the trauma from Alyra's memory; he intends to give it to her. If you want to know about your wife, watch her father's responses to her displeasure:

Benedict: "Want to be present for this?"
Dorr: "Not if it goes poorly."

Benedict presents the shell to Alyra and explains. Alyra cannot look him in the eye; she cannot talk to him. On confusing expediency with necessity:

GM: "She manages to at least look at your shoulders."
Benedict: "I have a gift for you."
Alyra: "That's not necessary."
Benedict: "I know it's not, but it is a gift nonetheless. I brought this back from... the Land. Which is a... difficult place."
Deborah: "Oh the guilt trip wasn't necessary."
Scott has the grace to look embarrassed: "Yeah, well."
Jarrod: "You couldn't've said Cleveland?"

The shell has the ability to make her forget, not heal her - a fine distinction (as Jarrod said, Osric had /nothing/ to do with this and it can't be pinned on him - one awful evil for which no one can blame him in the least. To which Rob said, One down! Zillions to go!). Benedict in one of his less shining moments :

Benedict: "I believe it has the ability, if you put it to your ear and you listen to it, to heal those wounds which were inflicted upon you."
Lydia: "There's a misleading statement."
Alyra: "My wounds have healed."
Benedict: "Yes, and they've left scars."

And the GM doesn't think he's been _mean_ enough:

Alyra: "I'm not sure if I should. What if it makes me unafraid?"
Deborah: "Oh, Fred, you're mean."
Benedict: "Unafraid of what?"
Alyra: "I am much older now than I was a year ago."
Deborah: "You -!"
Alyra: "When I think about how innocent I thought the world was, it makes me ill. I'm not sure I want to get back to that. I'll take your gift, but let me decide when to use it."
Rob: "Excellent! The wacky madcap antics are on!"

Benedict reports back to Alyra's father. On relief, parental and misdirected (Yes, this session did make me want to become a feminazi; why do you ask?):

Benedict: "She accepted the gift but will decide herself if and when she uses it."
Dorr: "Glad to know I can still sometimes figure her out."

Ah, the uses of Glamour. Different definitions of wacky and madcap and antics:

Rob: "All right. The wacky madcap antics."
Shai: "As a personal note, does anyone try to poison the lady? Just curious."
Rob: "The wacky madcap antics, which have been planned for since the first word of the ball, necessitate that there will be a problem with their costumes, requiring them to be replaced. Then after that they will end up in their company no matter what for the rest of the ball, which Sybil will assist with."

Cheating by Changing the Rules, a Finndo specialty:

Rob: "Benedict will end up in the company of a young lady new to Court and will be in a situation where she has to turn to him for help; she doesn't know he's the Prince. This is to some extent very much a test of how Benedict will respond to her without his guilt or his duty."
Scott: "There is no removal of that."
Rob, philosophically: "That's a very interesting question."
Scott looks confused.

Use your strengths and their weaknesses:

Rob: "Think wacky romantic comedy."
Scott: "Thing is, wacky romantic comedy isn't going to work well with Benedict."
Rob: "If it were a battlefield, Benedict might figure it out - but this is Finndo, Sonnet's sneakiness, Sybil's glamour..."
Scott: "He's not going to have a chance."
Rob: "No."

Politically Incorrect Costuming:

Sonnet suggests "Lord and Lady Mouse" to Cyrus as costumes.
Cyrus: "Amusing as that may be, I do not think it would be well advised to show up as a rodent."
Rob: "Lord and Lady Fish."
Benedict: "That would be A BAD IDEA."

Keeping the Schemer and the Loose Cannon in the dark, thank you:

Rob: "Cyrus and Osric are brought in at the last minute, so that they do not -"
Deborah: "Screw it up."
Rob: " - bollox it."

Not His Brother Finndo, who could oil the hinges on doors just by walking through them:

GM: "This woman and her companion are sort of an odd pair. The smaller one of the two is rather shy, which expands out to everyone else, but alas due to various things, not in a way that tips you off to Alyra. And it seems her somewhat more conversational friend appears to be bringing her along, draw her out of her shell, but her companion seems to be distracted in general."
Scott: "Benedict will do the good graces thing and ask appropriate questions; his answers are naturally terse to her questions, because It's Benedict - straight to the point. It's more informational; Benedict does not carry a lot of schmoozing charm."

Schmooz applied from the outside:

GM: "It's actually a while before you realize you've been steered into a corner with this woman, and you actually have at least an hour of conversation of awkward -"
Rob: "Until Homewood is brought up."
Scott: "That'll get Benedict going. At this point, Ben comes to life, there's animation, wonder about the trees, definitely a sense that he really enjoys the place. He actually gets a little chatty."
GM: "You have a lovely conversation."

Flirtation the sneaky way:

GM: "Sonnet, roll alertness."
Shai: "Oh god. Average."
GM: "At some point, you realize that someone appears to have stuck a note in your costume. 'Your gait is rather distinctive. Selm.."
Sonnet: "Change the gait. Course I haven't noticed him at all tonight, have I."
Cyrus: "He's always masked."

Putting it gently:

Rob: "The rest of the evening is sheer revelry; we have everyone bouncing around. Finndo rotates through major arcana the rest of the evening with Sybil's help; at one point he dances with Faiella.:
GM: "She actually does fairly well, though she leaves a lot of people confused."

Excuses, excuses, surprises:

Cyrus: "Cyrus does his best to be charming and gracious and actually sociable."
Jarrod: "Really."
Lydia: "Tarraign beat these things into him."

On masks and revealed personalities:

GM: "The unmasking occurs. There are several things that come out of that; yes, the guy walking around like a supervillain was in fact Osric; the very sparkly lady stops being sparkly, and she kinda 'ah!!' squeaks and hides under a table. While you folks are standing around - "
Rob: "Oh, all surreptitiously watching Ben and Alyra unmask, of course."

They Can't Stop Flirting, Ever:

GM to Sonnet: "Selm walks up in a mask; you look at his outfit and realize he was one of the serving people."
Selm: "Good colors."
Sonnet: "Thank you. Do you like the hair?"
Selm: "I fancy you more as a blonde."
Sonnet: "Good."

What does it profit a man to engage in wacky, madcap antics?

GM: "Alyra and Ben take off their masks. Alyra goes a little bit pale, says she's sorry and excuses herself."
Benedict grows still.
Sybil: "Oh, wow, am I looking somewhere else."
Sonnet takes a deep breath, counts to four, follows.
Benedict leaves, going a different direction.

Silly kids; they never appreciate the little things one does to ruin their lives:

Finndo looks to Dorr, shrugs.
Dorr shrugs.

Sonnet follows Alyra and approaches her to offer a shoulder - and some liquor. Being the New Best Friend of the reluctant fiancee of the lover you cannot have prepares one for understanding. On the merits of resourcefulness:

Alyra: "Hello?"
Sonnet: "Want to talk to someone?"
Alyra: "Not sure I'd have anything nice to say."
Sonnet: "That's all right; I've had to scream and break things before, so I understand that."
Lydia: "I can even provide you with something to break if you like."
Sonnet: "If you want to talk to someone, I will sit and be quiet. If you want to be alone, I will make sure you are left alone."
Alyra: "I was thinking of breaking into a liquor cabinet."
Sonnet: "Give me ten minutes; I'll take care of that."

Presently, Alyra and Sonnet are thoroughly sloshed. Friends don't let friends drink and make mind altering decisions:

Drunk Alyra: "Are scars good?"
Sonnet: "Depends on where."
Alyra taps her chest, "Here."
Sonnet: "No, they're not good. Sometimes they can help you remember things; other times they're not so good."
Alyra: "He says I can get rid of them."
Sonnet: "Who?"
Alyra points to the middle distance [meaning Benedict].
Sonnet: "Oh. Him. Would you get rid of them if you could?"
Alyra: "I wonder if it will... I wonder if I'll just get hurt. Again."
Sonnet: "Hrm. I can't say that."
Alyra: "Maybe the scars will help. Maybe they protect."
Sonnet: "Either that or they'll scare you off from doing something you really should do."
Alyra: "What I should do doesn't really enter into it these days."
Sonnet: "You can always do something. Even if you have to do something, you can always do something. What is this stuff?"
Alyra: "It's good."
Sonnet: "Yes. Is he talking time or some metaphorical crap?"

Taking the wrong kind of hit from someone else's drug:

Alyra: "No, there's a shell, and if I listen to it, I'll be fine. "
Sonnet: "Really." Sonnet takes the shell and listens.
Scott covers his eyes.

Oops:

GM: "Benedict."
Scott: "The possibility had occurred to me that something like that would happen."

The spots will out:

Benedict: "Change into something more appropriate, head down to the stables, get a horse, ride into the city, stop, ride up to the top of Kolvir.."
GM: "You spend the night quiet and sullen and...?"
Rob: "Sulking."
Jarrod: "Because that's so new."

The best laid plans of GMs:

Shai, brightly: "Sorry. It was there."
GM glares at her.

Jarrod is Shai's husband. Jarrod is accustomed to Shai's brand of evil. Helping with the adjustment:

Jarrod: "This wasn't in her notes, was it?"
GM gets up: "I'll be back."
Shai: "He's going to scream and throw things, now."
Jarrod, sympathetically: "Would you like some breakables, Fred?"

Letting Your Players Get Their Head a.k.a. Fred, Never Say We Bore You a.k.a. And The Other Reason She Didn't Care to Marry:

Lydia: "The question is, is it one charge only?"
Shai: "The question is if Alyra picks it up out of her hand and listens and goes Huh? and passes out on top of her..."
Lydia: "Dorr's going to wonder what the hell happened."
Shai: "Finds his daughter passed out on top of another woman, lots of empty bottles left around."
GM walks off, muttering.

A little too much wack for the serious of temper:

Rob: "Wacky, madcap evenings."
Shai: "And one pissed off Benedict."
Rob: "The question is what he's going to do about it."
Scott: "Well, I know what he's going to do about it, but the letter won't be written till morning."

On Consequences. The drunk leading the blind:

GM to Sonnet: "You remember nothing of the game that's happened so far. You just got back from the aisles. Who the hell is this girl?"
Sonnet sits up, holding her head: "What? Oh, god, that must have been some party."
GM: "Well, no, not anything after session 3. Before the rats showed up. You were at Kord's castle, right after the druids, maybe the zombies attacked and you were about to head out."
Sonnet: "Where am I."
Alyra: "Castle amber? We just had a lot of this." She holds up a random empty bottle.
Sonnet: "We just left Amber - oh god my head. What is this thing - what is this - why am I holding this - what are you doing here?"
Alyra: "You put - oh no." She starts turning in drunken circles, "This is bad, this is bad, they're going to find us here, we're going to get in trouble."
Sonnet: "Alyra Dorr? Aren't you supposed to be back there with your dad in the trees and I'm so sorry you've got to marry Benedict, don't you?"
Alyra: "Crap crap crap." She whips around in more frantic circles. "Stay right there? Okay?" She takes a deep breath and wobbles. "Okay." And she runs off.

Far Lords civil wars, murderous out-kingdom families possessed by demonic forces, drunken future sisters in law - the trials of a Crown Prince are never done:

GM: "Finndo, Alyra skitters to the door (where Finndo is entertaining Dorr), sees her dad, sees you, skitters, and backs up. She hasn't been seen by her dad yet."
Finndo: "Finndo politely excuses himself and steps outside discreetly."
Alyra waves her bottle of alcohol about: "I don't know what happened but we were talking and then we were drinking and then she passed out and I'm going to get in trooooouuuuble.."
Finndo: "Lead me there."

Too much deja vu for all that wack:

Finndo: "Lady Sonnet."
Sonnet: "Prince Finndo. Why are we back in the castle?"
Finndo: "I keep having conversations like this."

And that snowball just keeps rolling downhill:

Alyra: "And she and she, and I was showing it to her and she did this -"
Lydia: "She's about to put it to her ear!"

Some things never die:

Alyra: "The shell Benedict gave to me and he said if I put it to my ear all the bad things would go away and I didn't want them to go away yet -"
Finndo: "Fascinating. Sonnet, what's the last thing you remember?"
Sonnet squints. Vaguely: "Vengeance..."

Funny you should say that, Sonnet my girl:

Finndo: "Kord's castle."
Sonnet: "Right, did he send the dog?"
Finndo: "So. I assume the term 'Rat Nookie' means nothing to you?"
Sonnet: "WHAT? Sounds like something Lucan would say."
Finndo: "Indeed it does."

Someone needs to work on connecting to people:

Alyra is rocking back and forth and crying.
Finndo awkwardly pats her shoulder: "There. There."

Comfort that is not about touching, much easier to provide:

Sonnet: "I need a drink."
Finndo: "Fortunately you seem to be copiously equipped."

Lying works better when sober:

Alyra asks for the shell.
Finndo: "You're not about to use it, are you?"
Alyra, still reaching for it, "'No! No."
Finndo: "Right. I'll hold on to it."

She _is_ only a teenager:

Alyra: "What if it fixes things? What if it fixes..."
Finndo: "Not while you're drunk. It can fix things when you're sober."
Alyra: "Fine." She stalks over and sulks.

Timing and resources:

Finndo: "And this would be the night that Ben decides to run off, wouldn't it."
GM: "You do have trumps."
Finndo: "Yes, I do, and that's already going through my mind."

Forget snowball. Go with avalanche:

Shai: "If you remember, Sonnet's plan at this point was to talk to Alyra about finding boyfriends that are not Benedict."
GM: "Finndo, you're still there."
Finndo: "Yes."
GM: "They're having a conversation they probably shouldn't, but it's about boys."

Biiiig avalanche. Ah, sweet revenge:

Finndo: "Right, but Finndo's question is whether to trump Piero or the Prince of Colors."
GM: "WHAT?!"

Some GMs plan desperately to fill space. Our GM plans desperately to expand time:

Jarrod: "Fred, any thoughts of a short session..." He just shakes his head.
Scott walks up to the GM and shakes his hand: "Sorry."

The players briefly discuss bargaining chips. Helpful Suggestions from the happy bundle of evil:

Lydia: "You could offer him [the Prince of Colors] the baby."

Sybil, meanwhile, is summoned to oversee the two overly tipsy women. Finndo explains about the shell. Ah, the difference the experience of being hit over the head repeatedly makes:

Finndo: "This is a bit of Fae magic."
Sybil, sharply: "Because that's what we need more of tonight."

Sweet, girlish simplicity:

Sonnet: "What's the /matter/?"
Sybil snaps: "She was raped and she's grumpy about it."
Sonnet: "I'd be grumpy too!"

Looking on the bright side:

Rob: "All right, and we'll roll Sonnet back home."
Deborah: "Well, you've acquired your small scandalous event."

Little red arrow says 'go that way':

GM: "You do hear that Dorr and wife at least slept in a different room than they were originally scheduled for last night."
Benedict: "Go see them."

Benedict goes to see Dorr. Press the shiny red button!

Dorr: "Morning, Ben."
Benedict: "Morning, Logan. These aren't your quarters."
Dorr: "Quite right."
Benedict: "Why?"
Dorr: "So you weren't involved, huh?"
Benedict: "Involved with WHAT."
Dorr: "Involved with whatever the reason is that Finndo decided that Alyra should have the room to herself."
Jarrod: "ticktickticktickticktick."

Nice to know their family values won't clash with Amber Royalty:

Benedict: "I'm going to go see my brother now; excuse me."
Dorr, cheerfully: "Sure!"
Benedict stalks out.
Dorr: "Honey! You won the bet!"

Diplomatically heading his way:

GM: "How convenient. Finndo is closing the door to Sonnet's room; he still appears to be wearing last night's clothes."
Finndo: "Brother. Come with me to see Dorr."
Benedict: "I just came from Dorr."
Finndo: "Excellent. Then you know the way."

Benedict wants to know why the Dorrs slept where they did. Peanut galleries on cue:

Finndo: "What a delightful and interesting question."
Everyone: "And we're glad you asked it."

The red button comes with great big Press Here signs:

Finndo: "It's a pity you did not stick around to deal with your issues instead of running away from them."
Benedict loses his temper and shoves Finndo up against the wall: "If you hadn't been messing around and playing your STUPID LITTLE GAMES which you _always_ do, maybe I wouldn't have been in this situation!"
Finndo, extremely calm: "I see."
GM: "There's a clatter and a lot of scurrying off camera."

Getting in the last shot:

Benedict lets him go and stalks off.
Finndo: "You may wish to ask the Lady Sonnet how you nearly took a year from her life."

Summing up to the concerned parent; hey, take your humor where you can:

Finndo to Dorr: "Alyra was quite unhappy, got quite drunk, Sonnet was talking to her, I was sorta hoping my brother would talk to her, I know it was quite a stretch. But. We know how this works now." He hefts the shell.
Dorr: "Right. I understand. Is she all right?"
Finndo: "She's fine. Sonnet used it."
Dorr: "Am I allowed to find that funny?"

And once you can prove that you're a responsible young woman who understands her immaturity, we'll give you back the mind altering toy:

Finndo: "Yes."
Dorr laughs: "It's kinda funny!"
Finndo: "It is. It seemed that it effectively removed all her memories after a traumatic event; approximately a year or so past."
Dorr: "Ah hah. A little less funny."
Finndo: "We managed to undo it; I don't know if this still works or not. I told your daughter I would give it back to her after noon."

It's now 5 PM during a game that runs from 1 PM to 6 PM and is supposed to cover 5 years. Pity the GM:

Deborah: "So we have gotten through two months."

Excuses, excuses:

Sonnet, on Benedict: "He means well, he's not always clued."
Scott looks surprised.
Jarrod to Scott: "She's got you dead to rights there."
Scott looks resigned.
Sonnet: "He's a /guy/."

Relative blessings:

Alyra: "Your father doesn't marry you off."
Sonnet: "Not yet."

The wedding between Benedict and Alyra is held at last. For some people, weddings are rituals of joy and bonding, and for some people, rituals of control and binding:

GM: "Wedding. Dear god, this is a huge event. Huge huge huge, which is why it's in Homewood."
Rob: "Ismerelda is here."
Shai: "Kord is here."
GM: "No one is missing this. Osric, it is fairly clear to you very early on that the Vell people still think very well of you; that seed has been growing just fine."

One word: Karm:

Sonnet: "So Papa shows up without mother."
GM: "Without mother; she's not feeling well."
Shai, sympathetically: "That's a pity."

Hey, take what you can get:

GM: "Cynthia by this point has been re-educated sufficiently to hold conversations with people that don't delve too far back."
Lydia: "So she's not regaining memories so much as acquiring new ones. Is she any friendlier?"
GM: "How do you mean that?"
Rob: "How warm is your marriage bed?"
Lydia: "Is she still frightened of him?"
GM: "She still seems to think he's strange?"

The party travels to Homewood by way of Rosewood, with Cyrus leading the way to, well, Roseywood. Saving the lady's sanity, such as it is:

GM to Osric: "Are you going to enforce an Amber centric path as compared to a psycho centric path."
Jarrod: "Oh shit. Oh shit. I will, as part of Cyrus' continuing education, encourage him to stay with things as they are, instead of as he wants them to be and ... no indigenous singing people."

Cynthia notices the ring on Osric's hand that Cymnea gave him. Job satisfaction on the fly:

Cynthia: "That's a very nice ring you've got."
Osric: "You like it? I like it too."
Rob: "Ooooooooooh. FUCK YOU, Fred."
GM, happily: "I did that just to make Rob squirm."

The party makes it to Rosewood - er, Roseywood. Like a kitten drawn to catnip:

Lydia: "There are indigenous happy people!"
Osric: "CYRUS."
Cyrus: "What?"

Accustomed to normal everyday misery:

Cynthia: "Why are they singing?"
Cyrus: "They're happy."
Cynthia: "They don't seem right."
Osric: "Fancy that."

No, REALLY accustomed:

Jarrod: "And Osric will 'help'."
GM: "Pass a few trees, the roses don't bloom quite so much, the mountains look right..."
Cynthia: "Oh this is quite nice."

A virtue of pragmatism; someone's still a little scarred by the attacking leaves in Tanauril:

GM: "Okay. Now. Ceremony, I think, because whoever arranged this particular part of it has some sense of mercy, is only what it needs to be."
Shai: "Ah, the practical Dorrs."
GM: "However, there still is a certain amount of circumstance and pomp. It's a little woodsy without being druidic."
Scott: "Good, I'm not going to be attacked by the dinner salad."

The loving couple, just a touch removed from, well, loving:

GM: "Alyra is a little demure."
Scott: "Benedict is a little stoic."

The wedding gifts are presented. Cyrus can't resist:

Finndo: "A full fledged manor, in Homewood. [In fact, Finndo's manor in Homewood.]"
Sonnet: "Pair of saddles, they match. They have iron locks on the saddles; in hers is a hair ring, with the word 'luck' engraved in it."
Cyrus: A pair of matching daggers and hunters horns; they have fish designs on them."

Tact:

Osric: "Crystal rings, intertwined, big. Sculpture."
GM: "Ismerelda of course gives you something with rubies on it."
Benedict: "Does she."
GM: "When you pick it up, you realize that they're loosely set."
Benedict: "How thoughtful of her."

On their wedding night, Benedict and Alyra at last have to talk to each other. Just imagine if they had to prove the marriage had been consummated - see? Could be worse:

Benedict is not looking at her: "I heard about your incident with the shell.."
Alyra: "Yes?"
Benedict: "I'm extremely sorry that it happened."
Alyra: "I couldn't stop or stay her hand."
Benedict: "It is not your fault. However, you were wise not to use it."
Alyra: "Why do you say that?"
Benedict: "I thought it would have a different effect than it did."
Alyra: "She wasn't meant for it; perhaps it would be different for me."
Benedict: "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I am skeptical. I would not wish you to come to harm or lose that which you do not wish to lose."
Alyra: "Oh. I was going to use it tonight."
Benedict: "I will continue to leave the choice in your hands. You do not have to. Please do not feel obligated to."
Alyra: "I am your wife; I should give you something."

We all get something unique and special to us from gaming, don't we:

Scott groans. Pained noise in the back of his throat.
GM, delighted: "Ah, yes, the sounds of pain!"
Scott: "And Fred chitters inside."
Shai: "As Benedict slides along the pike of pain."

Choices:

Benedict: "I guess in the long run I wish you not to think ill of me because I like you, I like your father, Homewood is more of a home to me than the castle ever was. And your father is more of a father to me than the King ever was."
Alyra: That makes a decision easier. I've written myself a note that will tell me what has happened. At least enough of it. I'm sorry I couldn't do this before the wedding; I would like to have been able to remember it. Excuse me.
Benedict: "And Benedict just sits there."
GM: "She goes to another part of the room, sits down at the desk, takes out the letter, puts it in front of her, puts the shell to her ear. She sways, almost slumps forward, but it's not quite the punch in the teeth it was for Sonnet. Shakes her head, looks around, notices the letter, picks it up. Reads it, "Oh it's happened! Oh! how odd!" She turns to you and the pain isn't in her eyes."
Benedict smiles.
GM: "And there we'll fade to black."

No THINKING, Either!

Shai: "And let's hope none of Sonnet's brain left in that."
Scott: "I can just see at the end: 'Dear, what's Rat Nookie?."

And the lack of choices. Pre-empting the pre-empting of options (only in this family):

Shai: "Who did Sonnet wake up with?"
GM: "Some of your potential targets got deflected."
Deborah: "Finndo."
GM: "Selm. So you have a choice, Selm or nobody."
Lydia: "Selm PLANS."
Finndo: "No. Because at that point, Selm is overstepping his bounds."
Shai: "So nobody."

And for Osric, opportunity is largely a matter of paying attention:

GM: "But you do have ample opportunity to pick up any number of poisons, if you like."
Osric: "Oh one or two. Academic interest, really."
GM: "Some of them are hallucinogens, too."

Now just think about this for a few minutes:

Finndo: "Sonnet is being sent to a faster time shadow, so it will be more than a year for her. Sonnet is sent off to ninja high school, or finishing school."

Much later, in the castle, More Stuff Happens. There is no such thing as happily ever after around here:

GM: "There's a knock on Benedict's door late at night in the castle."
Servant: "Sir, you uhm. There's a problem, I'll start there. As you asked, I wanted to let you know the stairs of shown up again. The problem is that the Queen of Air and Darkness appears to have gone up them."

Finndo's the guy who sleeps with the trumps of his enemies; what does this say about him?

Servant: "The Queen of Air and Darkness has gone up to Tir."
Finndo: "Fuck."
Finndo: "I am whipping out her Trump."

Finndo trumps her. Keeping it Simple (you dumbass):

Queen of Air and Darkness: "I can go silver! Silver."
Finndo: "Yes ma'am. May I ask what you're doing in the city of the dead?!"

When you have to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite:

Finndo: "Are you looking for something?"
Queen of Air and Darkness: "Yes! I haven't found it yet."
Finndo: "Are you looking for color?"
Queen of Air and Darkness: "No no no. Color that binds and names... no."
Finndo: "I see."
Queen of Air and Darkness: "Silver here. I like it." And she tries to shut it off.
Finndo: "I suggest you be more polite."
Queen of Air and Darkness: "You're the one who made the daughter talk like that, aren't you?"
Finndo: "On occasion."

And you had to answer?

Queen of Air and Darkness: "Busy."
Finndo: "Yes, but an explanation would be called for."
Queen of Air and Darkness: "It called."

Possessive little Fae, isn't she?

Finndo: "Ah. My I ask that you extend your hand?"
Queen of Air and Darkness: "No! My hand!"
Finndo: "Yes, for I would have to pay you for it and I do not wish to."

It's never just a cat stuck in a tree, is it?

Queen of Air and Darkness: "What? What?" Looking away, "What?" And she disappears.
GM to Finndo: "Tir Na Nog'th is on fire."

And in an emergency, the first thing you grab for is indicative:

Finndo: "I trump the baby."
Benedict: "I'm heading down to the pattern room [in Tir]."

Nice of him to confirm:

GM: "And you're there, with Osric on your heels, I imagine. There's a figure standing near the beginning of the pattern, back to you. Male. Hooded. And you hear a voice, keeping in mind that this place is always silent, you hear a voice. However, the figure looks like it's part of this place; "Benedict, is it?" And the floor opens up beneath you. Gonna grab him, Osric?"
Osric: "Yes, I think I will."

It's good to have an older brother who molds reality with his big, big brain:

GM to Benedict: "This room appears to speed away from you, start to fall, try to right yourself, Osric reaches forward, tries to yank you back. Osric, you can tell the substance of the area around you is starting to give way."
Osric: "I reinforce it."
GM: "He pulls you back, you almost start to sink, and something happens and the area around you solidifies."

Silver Surfer, Prince of Amber!

Finndo: "Coming down the stairs."
GM: "The stairs end abruptly in a solid stone wall."
Finndo: "Oh, someone's fucking with me. How solid is solid?"
GM: "It seems as solid as the ground you're walking on."
Finndo: "I'm going to try to cut through it; spinning circle of cards."
GM: "Okay. Chips of nothing fly away and eventually there's this tunnel leading forward and you think you can make out Ben and Osric on the opposite end of it."
Finndo: "Right. Path of cards."
GM: "Cards come through a section of wall that has managed to be reasonably solid, and the card path extends out towards you. Your sense of where the Pattern is is that it's somewhere else in Tir right now."

When at first you don't succeed...

Finndo: "Okay, nothing there."
Benedict: "There was; we'll tell you in a moment."
Finndo: "Where to now, then? Can you find her?"
Osric: "Her who."
Finndo: "The Queen."
Osric: "I can make an effort."
Finndo: "I do not think it can hurt to try; I cannot reach her."

Unfortunate Tir Visions, redux:

Finndo: "Finndo is looking around for clues in the shattered Tir castle; Benedict is looking for a cause."
GM: "There are sections of wall that appear to have melted."
Finndo: "In or out."
GM: "In. You recognize a lot of the people. You don't see any of these people, but you do see a broken Piero up on one of the walls. And a Rast, as well. The Royal wing is completely collapsed."

Thorough destruction:

Benedict: "Head down to the harbor."
GM: "You see a lot of floating planks."
Benedict: "As if ships had been..."
GM nods: "There are no ships. And not a lot of the docks, either."

Assessing on the fly:

Osric: "Osric focuses on Hooded Guy."
GM: "Somewhat unsurprisingly, he seems to be somewhat nearish to the Pattern and is moving with it. In fact you're pretty sure he's the one doing the driving. And eventually you are convinced that he is evaporating the substance of things in a wave towards you."
Osric: "So it's time to leave, then."

Still getting in that last word:

Finndo: "And there's Finndo and the guards, "Fucking Kipwyn."
Scott lets out an unhappy sigh.
Finndo: "Finndo gives Tir the finger, and ... "

Uh-huh. Relative. Right:

GM: "Aside form that incident, it is a relatively eventless spring."
Rob: "Finndo is going to figure out where the shell is."

Sybil is sent, for the first of those five years, first to Tarraign's Academy to learn basic academia and, code breaking; the rest she spends at Court. The one bright spot in all of this for Sybil (who hates Court only slightly more than she hates, say, her mother) is the fact that Sonnet has a trump of her; they stay in contact while Sonnet is off at ninja high school in shadow. Doing well by the Sonnet Scale:

Sonnet: ".. and I have not killed anyone and I have not slept with anyone but they have wonderful cold showers.."

Benedict seeks out Piero for further training that would help him better protect his new family. Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!

Piero: "You want to know more."
Benedict: "Let's say I wish to hone the skill a bit. It is useful; however, it is somewhat lacking at times."
Piero: "The lacking reflects your lack of commitment to it. This is a dark thing that you draw upon; you must be willing to."
Deborah: "Wow. No red alarms there? Not one."
Scott: "All of them just went VOOOOOO."

Faster, Easier, Stronger, Not Very Good For Your Soul:

Benedict: "Then it is possible that the design would serve me better."
Piero: "It's possible, but uh, as I understand it, not always immediate. You are looking for something to give you a bit more sudden effectiveness, as I recall."

Picky, picky:

Benedict: "Yes, the power is nice, the power is great, if it were more useful-"
Jarrod: "Eh. It's okay."

Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly:

Piero: "The power also reflects you. They call you the Unmaker for a reason; it's what you must be. You may think of these things as... evil, although that's a rather pedestrian notion."
Benedict: "Power is power; it's what you do with it."
Piero: "Precisely."
Benedict: "Very well, I wish to hone the skill, and that is why I am here."

Is there ANY history in this world that's shiny and happy? At all?

Piero: "Do you know the story of Eagle's Peak, before I came to it?"
Benedict: "No."
Piero: "The mines, for these were mines, once belonged to - what are they calling themselves these day? - Sabine - one of those iron duchies. This was part of that before your father saw fit to give them to me; he gave it to me because they'd mined it all out. I still have not fully explored all of its caverns. However, when I came to it, I found that in killing the mountain, they'd given it life. If you wish to draw more upon what you have found in the havens around here, you must go into the earth. Pick any passageway you like; you'll be lost soon enough."

When grues are old hat:

Shai: "And then you will be eaten by a grue."
Benedict: "Here we go again."

Why can't I just get myself into some dull routine?

Piero: "Ah. Don't take a torch. They hate that. You'll have to go by your instincts."
Benedict: "Into the depths of hell I descend."
Jarrod: "Couldn't you just stay home and play bridge?"

Insolent beasties:

Benedict: "Ben closes his eyes, turns in a circle and goes into one."
GM: "You start walking. Maybe a good 200 feet in, maybe more, completely dark, opening and closing your eyes isn't very helpful, and you hear in the distance behind you a rumbling scraping something..."
Jarrod: "It's a grue."
GM: "You hear Piero shout, 'Behave yourself!' and then it sounds like something has collapsed at the mouth of the entrance."

Justification:

GM to Benedict: "An awareness of a presence comes upon you. "You took away her pain."
Benedict: "I did."
GM: "Is not experience a succession of scars?"
Deborah: "Nice. Just the folks you want to have around your kids."
Benedict: "It is. Which is why I asked her not to."
GM: "If you had the same scars would you seek to heal your own."
Benedict: "It depends."
GM: "That is your problem. Keep walking." The presence leaves.

Predictability:

GM: "Very low, pale, almost there, directionless light. Kinda tinted greenish. Takes a while for you to convince yourself that it's actually there and then you make out certain shapes. A man walks towards you. "Brother, how delightful to see you." It's Finndo."
Benedict grimaces.
Finndo: "Stupid little games, huh."
Benedict: "Yes. Stupid. Little. Games."
Deborah: "Someone's still pissed."
Scott: "OH YES."
Jarrod: "Yah really? Shah."

This is not the fraternal approval you want:

Finndo: "Good. Go with that. Keep that. You still retain too many attachments. If you're going to walk any further, you'd best know which shoes to put on."
Benedict: "It's not my brother who's the only one who plays Stupid. Little. Games."
Finndo nods satisfaction: "Excellent. Continue."

Optimism in darkness, that's our boy:

GM: "Unmaker." From around.
Benedict: "What."
GM: "What would you lay waste to for your power?"
Benedict: "There will be no prices this time."
Deborah: "Heh. He's so cute and naive."
Jarrod: "Oooohhh. Noooo."

And today's word is 'Inevitable':

GM: "Your failure will be the ruination of the Pattern."
Jarrod: "Badbadbadbadbad."
GM: "You have been marked. The darkness knows you now."
Scott: "Anger level rising. Defcon 2."

Defcon level - hey, can we go into double digits on this thing?

Oberon walks up.
Jarrod: "Cause he's so warm and fuzzy anyway."
Oberon: "Don't have the courage of your convictions, do you? Rather run off, wouldn't ya."
Benedict takes a swing at him.
GM: "He takes it, he's reasonably solid, and wheels back around and back-hands you and you go flying."
Oberon: "That's more like it! I can't believe I went through all of that and just got YOU."
Lydia: "Oh hoh."
Benedict's sword comes out, "You were never much of a father. But you're not you, are you? You're them. Playing Stupid. Little. Games."

Awkward question of the day award:

Oberon, indicating the sword: "You're going to use that?"
Benedict sneers: "To what purpose? Slay a phantom?"
Oberon: "What if it was the real thing?"
Jarrod: "Uhm, meep."

'He is a soldier; he is most comfortable with force.'

Benedict: "Do you have a blade on you?"
Oberon: "Of course I do."
Benedict: "If you can best me, then you are - I will take your word that you are who you appear to be."

Vicarious pleasures:

GM: "You trade blows for a while; this thing is good - quite good - and if anything, it's the force of its blows that you're having trouble dealing with and accounting for. But eventually, you beat down its guard and strike its head from its shoulders."
Jarrod: "God, that felt good."

Of various sorts:

Scott: "Yes. Yes, actually it did, and actually as the final blow comes in, Benedict puts all of his strength in it and lets out a primal scream."
GM: "Something inky and black comes out of its neck, like a mouth, and screams at you. And you black out. I'll get back to you.

Rast is a large, large man of enormous strength; he wears, effectively, an iron stove into battle. Friendship means knowing a good bone-setter:

GM: "Cyrus, you're at the castle, going about your business, what have you; you hear a door open near you and this hand falls on your shoulder."
Cyrus: "Grab the hand. I turn around."
GM: "It's Rast."
Cyrus: "I pound Rast on the back and prepare to be broken."

Rivalries on every level:

GM: "He pounds you back. 'We've got some work.'"
Cyrus: "Do we."
Rast: "And, uh, to be honest, Selm needs a suitable Karm replacement."
Cyrus: "I see. What is Karm doing?"
Rast: "He's being Karm and Selm is being Selm, work it out." He clucks. "Let's get going."

He's got a point:

Cyrus: "I walk with him."
Jarrod: "As if you have a choice; he bats you down the hall.

Briefing, Rast Style:

GM: "You guys come outside to a gigantic x5 horse, one capable of bearing Rast; Selm is there. There's a third horse for you."
Rast: "I'll yell as we ride."

The McCaveys are the Vermonter takeoffs. Definitions of 'disaster':

GM: "Selm has been asked to deal with a problem quietly and without the knowledge of Oberon's kids. He is authorized to draft you and Rast but it would be very bad if you violated the secrecy of this particular thing. Apparently one of Piero's creatures has gotten lose. And Rast is pretty good at breaking things; you're good at breaking things; Selm is good at studying something and taking it down. This is why all three of you are riding west before it, oh, eats the regiment guarding Veronelle or, god forbid, sends the McCaveys to court. Piero is apparently tied up dealing with something else; it falls to us."

Use the tools you have on hand:

GM: "So. You ride. You get into Old Andros; Selm pulls out something, an extensively carved leg bone of something."
Selm: "Piero wants us to use this to track him down." He balances it on his finger and it points in a direction.
Cyrus: "That's creepy."
Selm: "Yeah, I'm not real fond of it."
GM: "In this manner, you guys manage to home in on where this thing is."

The ghost of James Earl Jones:

Selm: "This never happened."
Cyrus: "Of course not; there are many things that never happened."
Selm: "Right."

Okay, for the record, Not Heartening:

GM: "Benedict, eventually you come to and you are standing by a table back in that lab and Piero is standing next to you.
Piero: "Did you get all that?"
Benedict: "Apparently so."
Piero: "You don't actually remember the last month, do you."
Benedict: "What?" Pause. "Month."
Piero: "I was afraid of that. We've been training."
Benedict: "What happened?"
Rob: "You paid the price."
Piero: "I though you had a breakthrough. Maybe you had."

Small events sometimes stick out it in a man's mind:

Benedict: "The last thing I remember is cutting the head from my father's body..."
Piero: "That's somewhat funny. I'm going to hope that all the instruction you've been taking so well actually sticks."
Benedict: "Became a model pupil, did I."
Piero: "Yes. Interesting."

The possible explanations for this are just none of them very good:

Benedict: "Can you tell me what happened when I came out?"
Piero: "You said you were ready."
Benedict: "I said I was ready."
Piero: "You did. And you were. You had a singular focus that I thought that you lacked."

20/20 hindsight:

Jarrod: "The darkness likes you."
Scott: "I don't want the darkness to know me, that's the problem."
Rob: "Perhaps the happy puppy magic would have been more appropriate."
Deborah: "If you don't want the darkness to know you, you should not walk up and introduce yourself."

So that's what it takes to get Osric to say that:

GM to Osric: "You're pretty sure there's someone in your room."
Osric: "Sword comes out.."
GM: "Whoever was waiting in bed for you sits up. And, uh. It looks like Lady Cynthia."
Osric: "Oh, shit."

Raise your hand if you blame the guy?

GM: "Why don't you come outside with me, Jarrod."
Jarrod: "I don't wanna!"

Optimism:

Lydia: "Replacement children! Perhaps Finndo will not sell these to the mountain."

Sonnet, at the end of the five years, returns from her stint at ninja high school, where she learned Kung Fu powers (think Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) largely propelled, to her thinking, by abstinence (hey, you solve your character issues your way; Shai solves 'em her way). TMI:

Shai: "Sonnet's happy and well adjusted; she discovered D batteries!"

BAD PUN!

Lydia: "Selm has decided that if he can't have Sonnet, no one else can."
Shai: "Doesn't bother Sonnet; she has inner piece."
Rob: "Inner piece that buzzes."

No context. Trust me, you don't want context. Just think: Ismerelda wedding gift:

Shai: "And all the rubies say, 'it's dark in here it's dark in here'."

Rob has been thinking (AGAIN, Dammit) and takes the GM off to test his theory. We worry when Rob thinks. The GM comes back looking Much Too Pleased:

GM comes back from talking with Rob, "That would have been interesting if it was true."
Jarrod: "You mean Rob was wrong about something??"
Deborah: "Thank god!"