nexus_sages | Sweets for the Sweet (LOL alert!)

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Sweets for the Sweet (LOL alert!)

The May Queen is back in the forum. It's safe to assume she left at some point; Frea's wearing a new (but still floral) dress and today's flower crown is made of evening primroses and bleeding hearts. She's also got a bright smile and a plate of cookies, both of which are offered to any interested passers-by from her perch atop a low stone wall. If she ever had shoes, she either hasn't found them or isn't on speaking terms with them; her bare feet swing and tap a rhythm against the stones while she waits for someone to talk to.

"Anyone want a cookie?"

((Beware! The cookies are LOLed. Different cookies will give your character a day or two of various motherly instincts and/or symptoms.
--Peanut butter cup-stuffed chocolate cookies mean your character experiences a phantom pregnancy. Give them any or all of the worst and most cliched symptoms. Bloating, aches and pains, hormonal shifts, morning sickness, cravings, whatever you want to inflict on your poor characters who probably totally deserve it.
--Chocolate chip cookies will turn your character into a Mother hen. Which may be useful, given what's going on around them; it may at the same time be incredibly annoying.
--Sugar cookies with the super sparkly sugar tops make your character a Fairy Godmother. Whether or not they can do minor magic to help fulfill the wishes of the worthy is up to you, but either way, they're going to feel compelled to help make happy endings come true.
--Oatmeal raisin cookies will help your characters remember their connections to the earth and make them total Earth Mothers. Be one with nature! Talk to the animals! Just remember, mostly they talk about food and sex; it's not as fun as Disney makes it seem.))

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He finds nothing odd in her appraisal of beauty. If he knew her world had battered from her the belief that she could think of it, he should very much like to batter that world in turn.

"Even my wishes do not reach so high," he admits with a chuckle. "No, I am but a resident. In truth, no lord claims this land--well, many claim, but none hold it in truth. This land is a great equalizer, where even the most meek may stand before the mighty without fear. It is a place where champions may find a moment's rest, if they wish."

Westeros has it's lush forests, clear and rocky shores and many, many kinds of natural marvels. There are wonderful things to see all around. She has considered herself to be a pleasing sight to see if she were a mountain or a tree. Instead she is possibly the largest highborn woman in the seven kingdoms in her own opinion. No delicate, dainty thing, horse-faced and stubborn to boot. Brienne has always enjoyed beautiful things and has come to accept that she shall never be one of them.

She slowly smiles at the sound of his laugh especially understanding her own folly. "I see. Than we both are here for calm and rest."

It's that "never be one of them" that he takes issue with. There is dignity in distinction, beauty in the unique. That she is unlike other ladies does not make her less. Is the rarest diamond less precious because no other stone compares?

"Ah," he offers in gentle correction, "no champion am I. Though on a day such as this, I may be able to ease the rest of those who are."

Exceptional gent that he is, it's a very progressive thought process for the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, perhaps even to Essos and beyond. Brienne privately hopes that somehow her other qualities will make up for it. Which is why she has forsaken dresses and taken up oaths and swords.

"No?" well not every title is hard won. And perhaps something about him does give off an impressive record of success that can be attributed to something. She nods. "So long as you find the reprieve you seek. And on such a spring day."

It isn't particularly difficult to out-progressive the Seven Kingdoms. For his part, Schön recognizes merit, which Brienne has in spades, hearts, and even a few clubs.

"Generous of you, lady, and I thank you, for I think I shall. But what of your reprieve? What would ease your burdens on such a day?"

Ah, that is so very true. It's a very old civilization, imperfect as many are. Values are so very skewed. Brienne's own stubbornness has saved her more pain in efforts to conform. At least she lives by her own terms now.

"I have find myself most at ease just... here. Your--this land is untouched by the long winter and is not at war. That has helped considerably." How absolutely vague, Brienne. Surely that's not what the gentleman is asking.

"Forgive my manners. I am Brienne of Tarth."

Even among the Old, some Ways were better than others.

"And forgive mine," he replies, sketching a bow. "Lady Brienne, I am called Schön W. Freund, and am very much at your service this day. Well it is to hear you have reached us beyond war and winter; do you hunger, perhaps, or thirst?"

She's learned to no longer attempt a curtsy. No skirts help with that so she bows in return at the waist in a smooth motion. "Good to meet you, Lord Schön." Only fair to say in turn. What manner of house must House Freund be?

Brienne's blue eyes blink. "I am a little hungry." Little. Hah. Manners begged that she only take one of the lady of flowers cookies. She now wishes she had selected one that looked more substantial. Though the sugar cookie was too interesting to pass up. "Do you know of any reputable inns? Ones with baths perhaps?" Try as she may to get used to using a nap sack and sleeping in glens and fields, the indulgence of a bath and hot meal is too good to pass up.

The bow suits her. And oh, if she knew what his House was like...

"I know of several, depending upon how well a traveler handles the strange." He spreads his hands before him, one still draped over the star-shaped silver head of his cane. "The Fox and Crosier you would likely find very fine, but I would urge you to order no chicken under that roof."

For now she suspects they're a regal, educated people with a culture like the Eyrie or perhaps Highgarden or King's Landing. Southern styled. Nexus and worlds beyond are really not ones she had ever considered. This will take getting used to.

"Not too strange preferably." There is plenty of that on the street. Carriages with no horses! "No chicken? So long as there is boar or...something else substantial. Would you be so kind as to direct me? You have a clear familiarity with the city of Nexus."

Schön's kin would be pleased, indeed, to be regarded as regal and educated.

"More than direct, I shall escort you if you like," he offers. "Though I feel I should warn you, the family who run the inn are, themselves, chickens." It must be that fairy godperson thing keeping him from a tiny bit of mischief--or perhaps Brienne is just too upright to play that particular trick upon. "But they do serve many fine meats, I understand, and make very fine hosts."

All of this is speculation. How else would such a man before her come to be? Brienne should know that appearances are deceptive things.

"If you please, I'm still becoming familiar with these lands." Though now that comes as odd. "Chickens? Actual chickens? Not..." Well what other chickens are they. "Have they always been that way? There's no enchantment?"

Very deceptive, yet there are also truths that show through any veil.

"It would please me nicely," he answers, "and these lands are well-known to me. Chickens, indeed--of a size with you and I, and inclined toward clothes and speech, but unmistakably chickens, nonetheless. It is the nature of their folk." Would Brienne like an arm in escort, or would she prefer to walk without it?

One truth at least is that her new acquaintance is a fabulous, unusual man.

"Your words shall hopefully ready me to not gape at them." Thanks for the heads up! She clears her throat and eyes his arm and decides after a brief moment to take it. He is after all showing the way, and there is no glint or gleam of mockery.

Yes. Yes he is.

"They will appreciate that, I'm sure," he offers, smiling and setting a comfortable pace. Though a walk through the Nexus is always strange, the inn in question isn't far from where they spoke.

Tucked in a cul-de-sac, the Fox and Crosier is a two-story, Tudor-style building named for the carved and painted wooden sign hanging over the door, of a bright red fox fleeing from a hand wielding a crook-ended stick. A yew tree peeks over the roof from where it stands in the courtyard partially enclosed by the inn's wings.

He may just be the first kindly as well as fabulous and unusual man she has met. They're usually very suspicious.

"You reside her, my lord? In...Er Nexus, is it?" Brienne eyes the scenery. She has seen cities and great keeps, nothing so very structured and modern as Nexus even with it's very eclectic tastes.

Their destination is at least most familiar. The signage and all. "Seems welcoming." And not a trap.

He isn't always kind, but he can recognize virtue and valor even in the absence of a penis, and knows their value well enough to show proper respect.

"I have indeed made the Nexus my home," Schön confirms. "I find the climate quite agreeable, and the neighbors a source of endless interest."

Through the front door, there's a space for taking off wet cloaks and the like, before the room opens up a little into a cozy lobby with a reception desk flanked on one side by a flight of stairs leading up. Behind the desk is a human-sized chicken in a dress, who dips her head and clucks a "good morrow."

This forward, open minded thinking has been her deepest wish and dream. It's overwhelming to be welcomed with sincerity. Brienne is used to laughs, stares and sneers. Schön being as he is is something she would work to repay somehow.

"Is it likened to your original home?" Her imagination for what other lands look like is expanding the longer she is here. Still it always begins with mortar and stone.

Even warned her eyes still widen and she nearly falls out of step from Schön at the sight if the innkeeper. "H-hello." Yes she can do that. And a nervous smile. What a world.

"Alike in some ways," he admits, "different in others." He steps up to the counter, giving Brienne a moment to collect herself while the host's attention is elsewhere. The clink of gold on the counter is quiet, as Schön negotiates for room, board, a bath, and laundry service for the lady knight. Alright, so he isn't providing all of that with a wave of his magic wand, it's still in the fairy godparent wheelhouse.

She's distracted long enough to forget their purpose. When she hears the clinking of coin she clears her throat. "Lord Schön, that's very kind but unnecessary. I have my own purse and you've already done me a great service showing me this place." And while there has been no danger at all she fears this may leave her in debt. To what purpose?

"Lady Brienne, I have every confidence in your purse, and as well in the Nexus' ability to lighten it. I mean only to offer you the comforts due a righteous heart, that you may meet coming challenges at your peak."

Well, it is difficult to say more to that. Brienne looks into the man's face and again finds no reason to be so doubtful. She's almost ashamed. "My thanks. I hope to repay you in kind some day." That's close enough. She remembers herself to put a smile on.

"Dear lady, should ever I find myself visiting your land," Schön promises, "you shall have my sincerest word that I shall depend upon your hospitality as the shipwrecked man upon the sight of gulls."

"You'd be overwhelmed." Of feasts, of dances, of the whole pageantry especially in the Stormlands. House Baratheon was known for revelry and all the lesser houses even that in Tarth followed suit. "We are then even." That means it should happen someday. He best be prepared.

Nevermind that Brienne has ever hosted a feast herself.

"Agreed," he replies, his lips curling up into a deeply pleased smile. "I shall look forward to it. But for now, I believe rest awaits you."

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