2022.02.22: Two Boggans and a Troll

Two Boggans and a Troll walk into a tavern
The twins go to check out Snow Fang and the hearth within Ice Peak Tavern, as they are taking over caretaking of it, and meet up with a Troll that happens to be just the right fit to make a trio.
IC Date	February 22nd, 2022
Players	Clementine, Laoise, Persy
Location	Snow Fang Peak - Ice Tavern
Spheres	Changeling

The place has been mostly quiet for a majority of the morning. Just a nice, quiet time. Then the whole place seems to take a collective breath and then there is a whirlwind of activity just outside of perception, something you catch just from the depths of your hearing. Something FELT more than seen or heard. Then through the doors pushes a woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, plump, but in a perfectly pleasing way, with rosy cheeks and nose and she's shaking off a cloak that's lightly dusted with snow. As she does this, her unruly mess of brilliant red hair is revealed and she exclaims, to someone behind her, "It's colder than an Eshu's nutsack out there!" British. Oh so VERY British.

Clementine wipes her boots and then shakes her coat off as she enters and looks to hang up her coat as she removes her hat. "Oh my, yes! But we are here and it is all that and more than we heard!" Finding a place for her things, she rubs her hands together like she is preparing to do something magical. "There is so much we can do for this place and make it welcoming! Warm and homey!"

Laoise has been relaxing at the bar. Earlier, she no doubt trained with anyone around and willing, as she's been doing on the regular since finding this place, which is now her favorite place in the Dreaming. Now, though, she's relaxing. And also looming, as any troll should, and troll she certainly is. Horns? Check. Exceptionally tall? Check. Looks like she bench presses Buicks? Check and then some. There's even an almost stereotypical axe at her hip, she's got a sort of armored kilt and corset thing going on, she's got a cloak of... wait. The cloak is pink. Trimmed in fur a few shades darker, draped over the stool next to her. She's also got what at first looks like teeny little crochet gear out, but when one looks closer, no, it's normal sized. The hook just looks tiny in her hands. She's drinking a beer from an enormous tankard, and crocheting something that might be a scarf, but she does look up when boggan whirlwinds descend, green eyes flicking towards the sound of the Brits. The... fellow UK residents, in fact, though if anyone calls her a Brit they may regret it.

Persy gives her cloak a little shake, leaving a puddle (which she glares at briefly) and then hangs it up, giving herself an all over shake and smoothing out the knitted shirt she's wearing. Her gaze cuts around the room as her twin speaks and they land on Laoise and those eyes, sharp as razors, zoom in on the needles in her hand. She gives Clementine a little nudge and a jaunt of her chin. "Lookit." She waits only a moment before she strolls in that direction. "You there," she calls out, gesturing toward Laoise. "What are you doing there?" Tromple, stomp, light click of.. heels? Yes, she wore heels through the snow.

Clementine offers softly, "Now sister, let's make a good impression." She fluffs out her hair to get the last bits of snow off and smoothes her skirt. She was more sensible and wore boots and follows Persy. "Good Afternoon! Pleased to meet you, I'm Clementine!" Offering a more pleasant greeting to the Troll. "Do you come here often? Are there knitting circles held here?"

Calm green eyes remain upon the pair of boggans as they approach, though her eyebrows do crook up slightly for just a moment before she favors both with a friendly smile and dip of the head. "Good day, ladies," she murmurs, her own accent immediately evidently, and quite decidedly Irish. She then glances down, as if to check that her crocheting hasn't inexplicably metamorphosed in her hands, then looks up again. "Crocheting," she replies, as if this were a perfectly normal thing for a looming troll to be doing. She holds up the scarf, partly finished. It's a pretty thing in pastel shades of purple, but the scarf itself is going to be huge. "I didn't expect to find a place like this when I made the move, so I didn't bring any of my winter things. But if I'm to hang about here, I'll be needing a scarf. Laofhan Swiftarm, at your service. And sadly, I'm afraid not. I seem to be the only one doing it around her. I find it relaxing."

Persy brings her hands up to cover her heart as she hears the lovely sounds of home. Or at least close enough. The look on her face says 'Oh, how precious' but the words out of her mouth are a little better. "Persimmon," she says, reaching out to lightly finger the scarf, running it through her fingers, just a few short inches of it. Then she looks back up at Laoise and nods. "Very good work." She slips around to take a seat as close to Laoise as is possible, leaning her elbow upon the bar. "We've come to make it all a little homier. Our good friend Locke doesn't have time to run the place and he's worried that the Kinain he put in charge might have troubles, so here we are. So, welcome to our place."

Clementine adds in with her just lighter voice, but nearly a duplicate of Persy's. Twins and all. "We know how to care for a hearth and home, and make it warm and welcoming. Even in all this snow! Fix things, and all that sorts of stuff. From tea to swords, mead to clocks. Even fix up the woodwork. Although the Rookery out there, and some of the rest of it we have not seen, we'll have to assess. What bring you here outside of the drink and crocheting? We'd be happy to sit down anytime and craft with you."

Laoise actually beams. After all, a boggan just complimented her crocheting. That's high praise, really. "Thank you, lass," she replies, sincerely. "Coming from one of your kith, that means a lot." Then, she seems to perk up. "Now that's news to lift my heart. The place seems..." She pauses, considering her words. "It's wonderful. It looks as if it were once glorious, but things are slipping a bit, out on the training yard." A little blunt, perhaps, but she seems to be trying to be kind, even if she's also incapable of really sugar coating certain truths. "It needs leadership. It needs love and attention. I'm sure the kinain are doing their best, Danu love them, but kinain were never meant to be in charge of a place like this. Their gifts are precious, but... not meant for that.""

Her gaze switches to the other twin, and she murmurs, "I rather like the snow, I think it's grand." That voice should be a deep basso rumble, but it's actually more a pleasant upper alto. "I come to train, to get away from the heat, to relax in the hot springs, and to generally be here, when my work at the stables lets me have the time. The crocheting is incidental, I do that anywhere I can find a spare moment."

Persy nods, looking around the place with the shrewdest gaze. "There are cobwebs." The tone suggests that this is the most awful thing that she could have discovered. Worse than leaky pipes or a crack in the foundation, or a roaring dragon coming to stomple upon everything. "But you're right. We'll run it, and the kinain is happy to lose the responsibility. Have you met her? Pretty white hair, attitude for days.." And then she makes a gesture that suggests a very large chest. "Ambro... Amby......" She looks to Clementine to supply the name.

Clementine has the name, "Amberlee. She's easy to spot rather... " She does not even want to say it but makes the universal sign for big boobs. "Very kind of her to watch it, but let the Boggans do what we do best. If you are training here, perhaps we have found the perfect person to help us out with that? You had us as your new best friends the moment we saw the yarn."

Laoise nods her head, chuckling to herself at the description, including the gesture-oriented one. She's not in any position to point fingers, though in her defense, that portion is at least proportional. She _is_ over seven feet tall, after all. But the nod is evidently not in answer to the question. "I've not, no," she murmurs. "I'm sure she's a fine lass, though, and doing her best. I've not heard a word spoken against her." But _would_ anyone? Some people watch their tongues when faced with Laoise.

Then, she blinks at Clementine. And perks up even further. "I have been, yes. Honestly, it's more been me reminding people of proper discipline." Reminding. Lecturing. Prodding. Whatever word one cares to use. "I'd be honored to help. Especially from two lovely lasses who don't tease me about liking to crochet. Tell me. What do you two think of horses, though? I can't work with anyone who outright loathes them. I could handle indifference, though I'll be trying to change your minds. And I'm sure we can find something for your lass to do." That... probably means Amberlee.

"When we were little, we used to ride, but there hasn't been much opportunity lately. But I don't hate them and I'd never hurt one. If that counts?" Persy looks around the place slowly once more, eyes catching every single thing that needs to be changed. "She's a lovely girl," Persy says absently about the old caretaker. "But, that was the past. The Dream here will fade without proper care and it could be that just YOUR presence here, young lady, has been enough to keep it going."

Clementine nods in agreement. "And we thank you for that. For this is the great big opportunity that obviously the Dream needed us here for. Besides improving the state of tea drinking in this area. I just have this warm feeling like this is the start of something truly magical!"

Laoise sets the knitting aside. Which is to say, she leans down and lifts up an enormous crafting bag. A bolt of leather is in there. An entire bolt. It's sky blue. The crocheting seems to have its own little side pocket hidey hole, and the project is carefully stowed, and then the bag set back down. Then she returns her attention onto the ladies. "...I've been wanting a purpose here," she admits. "One for this side of life. I raise and train Friesian horses, on the other side. Part of why I came here, there's a gentler climate for them, and I was able to get an island all to ourselves. But I need more. There was no place for me, back home. Maybe this was all part of my Dan all along."

She seems utterly willing to accept the friendship of two strangers, not to mention taking them at their word about roping her into this, as if it would never occur to her to question such things.

"Now you have one," Persy says, perfectly matter of factly. "We'll have to see how it works, but here you are and here we are, and daddy didn't make no fools. We know good people when we see it."

Clementine nods in fast agreement, putting her arm to link with her sister's. Nearly mirror images, just with different clothing and how they do their hair. "Absolutely, and we will not hear any ifs ands or butts about it. Welcome to the family!"

Laoise actually looks genuinely moved, perhaps even a little bit misty-eyed. She rises from her stool, where she towers over the twins, then leans down to reach out and rest a big hand on each of their shoulders, if they allow it. "Thank you," she murmurs. "Sincerely, lasses. Thank you. I accept. And I am deeply honored."

Persy pushes the hand off her shoulder and reaches up with her arms. "We hug around here, missy," she says, opening and closing her hands in a 'come here' gesture. "Boggans and trolls give the best hugs."

Clementine does not even wait and just launches in to give Laoise the best hug this Boggan can give. "And now we have a sister to help reach the things on the tall shelves!" She giggles with mirth as she makes a little joke. Get it? Little? "Well aren't we a motley crew? Now who's ready for some tea and biscuits? I can go see the state of the kitchen."

Laoise bursts out laughing, and gives them both a hug. As in, at the same time. One arm is plenty for each. She is thankfully careful about this. In fact, she's careful to the point of near absurdity, as if she worried that she might break the boggans to bits if she weren't. "You're not wrong," she tells Persy. "We both do." Of course, she does have a projectile boggan as part of that hug, but Clementine is caught. And then, a huge, hopeful sigh. "I've not had a proper cup of tea since I came to this shore. I've been drinking coffee. I do like coffee, but I prefer tea. Just not the swill I've found here. Though if I'm being fair, I've never been good at making it, either. I'm not the best in a kitchen. Kitchens are full of small tools. I can grill with the best of them or cook over a campfire. Give me a spit and a roast, and I'm okay, but kitchens are not friendly to me. Except for top shelves. Those, I can do. I'm also a dab hand at opening stuck jars."

Persy gives one of those full body hugs and then gives Laoise a little patpat as she speaks about tea and coffee. "Well, we'll forgive you for drinking coffee and bad tea, but that's all over now. We got you, girlfriend." Another little patpat. "Now, you sit down and let me and my sister get you all set up."

Clementine oos! "You know, we have a lightbulb out back at our home, we /may/ just tempt you with some tea there one day if you will change it for us? One of these recessed ones into the ceiling. Talk about a nightmare to get changed!" She rubs Laoise's arm just a tad and then winks, "Be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail!" She scuttles off toward the kitchen and soon all sorts of gibberish can be heard but not quite understood, as well as clanging of things together.

Laoise lets go of the boggans. And perhaps sets them down, there might have been some unintentional lifting going on there in her enthusiasm. "Every girl needs boggan mates," she notes happily. "Always had a soft spot for your folk. You're mighty in ways I'm not sure most others see, though I've no idea why they're all blind to it." That said, she parks her generous backside upon the stool. Well. Generous in an 'it's probably all muscle' sort of way. Girl's got booty, though. She then rests her chin in her hand and turns to listen with contentment to the sudden hubbub. "See? Mighty. I fear for the hide of anyone who was in there and doing substandard work."

Persy giggles happily as Clem disappears and she hikes herself up on the barstool again, feet dangling. She feels for the rung that is usually there, and wiggles her foot, then has to look down to see that her toes are still a good two inches away from it. She makes a curt SNIFF sound and squirms around in her seat to sit upright. THAT will be fixed very quickly. "I don't think they were expecting us today. I think we were supposed to be here tomorrow," she confides to Laoise

Suddenly there is an applause from inside the Kitchen, and Clementine comes out with a full tea service. Teapot with a cozy, tea cups of different sizes, and a tiered tray filled with little bites of sweets. There is also a larger plate with an assortment of pastries. "Now they were not used to what I wanted to do here, but are very happy with the ideas and I /think/ I won over their head chef. I'll get him one way or another." As she says the last bit, she has a touch of an evil grin. "Although that stove back there was doing some flicker thing that never seems to happen to anyone else. I wonder what is going on there." She sits down the tray in front of the other two and asks Laoise, "How do you like your tea? Milk? Sugar?"

"Isn't it better that way, though?" Laoise asks Persy. "If you came when they were expecting you, you'd not see things as they are on a daily basis. Better to see the reality." She peers down. "...need some boggan stools. I'm a little impressed they have troll sized ones, but perhaps they see more trolls than boggans. Have you seen the hot spring? It's fabulous." She regards Persy, then out of nowhere announces, "I found a dragon on my island. Just a young one, he's wee." She gestures down to about her waist. "Shetland pony sized. He had some mishap and slept the past four hundred years, the poor wee thing. Thought perhaps I'd mention it." As you know, one does. "I'm letting him use the cave I found him in for the time being. But if you ladies want to visit my island, you may encounter him, and he'll see you as you are. That didn't seem like a thing I'd like to surprise you with. Also there's Angus. We've been mates since he was a foal. Pegasus, but of the chimerical sort. Elevated opinion of himself, but otherwise stalwart." She brightens, spotting the approaching tea tray. "Milk, then sugar." The question is, is Clementine a milk in the cup then tea or tea in the cup then milk sort of lady?

Persy makes a little hrmph sound at the mention of a lack of boggan sized stools, but she nods. "The place seems to be in pretty good shape, considering the situation," she agrees, then her brow arches. "A dragon? One of the chimera! And he's hurt, you say? We'll need to make sure he gets all fixed up. I was almost eaten by a dragon once, but I fixed his little attitude right quick, I can tell you." She flips up the edge of her shirt and patpats at a little holster that contains... what else? KNITTING needles. "BUt I'm glad you told us. That's useful information even if we don't stumble across him on accident. AND you have a pegasus? Oh lordy, I can't wait for Stinkpot to get here."

Clementine goes about fixing the tea. She made sure there is a larger, and sturdier cup for Laoise. It looks remarkably like the others. She pours the tea in each cup first, like the Queen prefers, and then adjust each with some milk to get them all the same color. She puts a spoonful of sugar in each one, and then some extra in Laoise's since it holds more tea. After some careful preparation, she hands one to each of the others. "Enjoy!" She heard all of this about the Dragon and Angus and says, "The poor dear. Yes, we must see him very soon. I'll bring some blankets we've made and some other niceties we can offer to make his adjustment to this century easier. I'll pack a basket of treats, do you know if he prefers strawberry preserves or marmalade?" A funny question, but it is what she thought of. "And your pegasus? Carrots? Sugar cubes? Something else we can treat him to?"

"I don't think he's actually chimerical," Laoise says, slowly. "I've never seen anything like him before, actually. but he sees me, more or less." She looks down and just stares at the Then, she shrugs. "Of course I told you, you just said I was family. I'd never hide things from family. I probably couldn't anyway."holster for a long moment. "I don't think you need to worry about this one eating you, his personality isn't that fierce. The horses may have been in danger, but I was firm. What is a stinkpot? But if you see a very large, black horse with wings who seems to be unironically posing so you get his best side, that's Angus. He will accept all treats. Also pretty ribbons to braid into his mane. And Sark.. hm. I don't know. I introduced him to grapes and cheese for the first time, he likely has no preference."

"Stinkpot is my best friend, besides my sister, of course. She's very old and just the sweetest thing, even if she is a little.. well, I'm not sure if he's more mouse or cat or something else entirely." She tucks her shirt back over her weapons and smiles. "She does have a peculiar odor about her, sometimes."

Clementine clasps her hands together! "Oh I'll make two baskets then! A little of everything so he can try it all!" She is far too excited by this opportunity. "And I have just the ribbons to bring for Angus. It has been so long since I could be around a horse and the chance to braid his mane is exciting!" She literally is ready to squee! But keeps it in check and gets her tea and takes a sip.

There's no hiding Laoise's weapon. It is, however, peacebound. With a big pink bow, at that, which still fails to make the enormous, icy looking axe actually look less intimidating. "I see." She reaches to start eating, because the food is /there/ and boggan-made. "I would be pleased to meet your friend. " She fishes into her bag, pulling out a brochure and opening it, then hands it to Clementine. There is a featured image of a stunning horse. Pitch black, with an incredibly long, flowing mane and tail, of warhorse proportions and decked out in old-fashioned barding. But it's clearly a normal horse, and the brochure is for Windstorm Stables. "He looks like that, but bigger and with wings. /That/ is Coalblack Lightfoot Finn Storm. The fifth. I call him Bonkers for short, he's my real prize winner of the herd."

Persy grins, letting her sister be the hostess this time. She has her moments, but they tend to take turns. "You'll met him eventually. Right now, he's just hiding and being a little bitch." She says the naughty word with no remorse. She just calls it like it is. She reaches out to take a sample of food as well, nodding her approval and leaning forward to see the picture. "Oh, that's a handsome one, he is."

Clementine's eyes grow wide as she sees the picture. "Where have you been all my life, what a looker he is! Truly a marvel to behold, I will have to insist on regular visits and maybe even one day can find one that is in our size to enjoy."

Laoise flashes a grin at both ladies, not batting an eyelash. She's Irish, she uses the c word more than any Americain is comfortable with. Or Canadian. "Ireland. I've been in Ireland, and as it happens I've got a few Shetland ponies about the place, I teach riding, too, and the ponies are there for the wee ones who still want to learn. Or boggans." She grins happily at the ladies.

Persy grins. "I make nockers blush once in a while," she assures Laoise, lifting her tea that her sister prepared with perfection. "You have a place that you're living on the other side? Everything you need? All safe and sound?"|

Laoise gives Persy an amused sort of look. "Oh, aye," she agrees. "Lovely wee house." It's probably not 'wee'. Lookit her. "Just me on the island, staff comes out during the day at need, but mostly it's just me and a dragon now in the cliffs. He can shapeshift into a man shape, which is helpful, but I still keep him clear of mortals. He's... still learning. Quite safe, though. You two keep that brochure, my number and email is on it. For now, I should get going, it's nearing feeding time for the horses." Her tea /is/ finished, though. And boggans are hugged. Her fur trimmed pink cloak is shaken out and the craft bag picked up before she heads out. It's not that she's a boggan wannabe, she's every inch the troll. But there goes one very Boggan-inclined troll.

Clementine straightens up, "I'm not that short outside the dreaming to need a pony quite that short, thank you very much. But I can appreciate a fine horse of any size. Especially ones that might curl up in my lap."

Persy chuckles and sips her tea. "You're pretty short," she assures her, holding her hand just a little lower than the top of her own head, to indicate she might be the taller of the two twins, or maybe she's just kidding. She looks the brochure over again with a smile. "I'm sure he's lovely, but I'll still keep my knitters handy just in case."

Laoise chuckles and dips her head before shouldering the bag and heading out.