#anywhere

HR and the Hoofer Ride takes Sylvi and Colton to Jefferson City proper... and let him out at a particular location.

Sylvi asks about the occasional landmark as they pass, then climbs out of the car when it stops. "Thanks, HR. Good ride."

"You'll give a girl a rep" She blushes as they get out

A brief laugh, then she looks to Colton. "Well...where do you usually patrol?"

"Well, right now we're near Mr. Gluminski's... this way" he smiles and leads her down a creepy sort of alley way

She walks with him, keeping an eye on the surroundings. "Who's he?"

"He's a sluagh so... odd" As if the kith couldnot be otherwise.

This antique shop would be terribly located if he really wanted folks to notice his place. In a side nook that goes down into the ground and then stairways with a single weather beaten sign that says Mister Gluminksi’s Antiques in elegant script that is mostly faded.

"Oh, I didn't tell you...my mom got turned into a sluagh, the same night I was a piskey. I didn't get to see her tht way, though." She looks at the obscure entry. "Wow...you have to really want to find the place."

"That's the way he likes it" Colton says as they go in.

Visitors are greeted by the quietest of bells chimes, but at a deeper tone than one would expect, melancholy, and by the proprietor, a miserable-looking Slavish fellow. Mr. Gluminski is tall, or would be, if he didn’t hunch over in a slouch, and dresses in mismatched, patched tweed. A thin pair of old time glasses is perched on his nose, and an Eastern European accent whispers:
“Welcome to Mister Gluminnski’s Antiques. Behold, sad tales of failure and shattered chances in every object. Is history of misery, is treasures of melancholy, is the doom of man glorified. Hope you enjoy…”

Sylvi observes the contents of the place with somber respect. Because he didn't ask her name, she doesn't offer it.

"Hello, Mr. Gluminski" Squire Colton says "This is my girlfriend, Sylvi. She's from Rivervale."

"Is charmed to be meeting you, young lady," the slaugh says, "Perhaps you are wishing flower press book girl was murdered over by traitorous lover ? Blood drops and pressed petals... over a hundred years old now"

"Thank you, Mr. Gluminsky. It's nice to meet you, too. And...ah...I think I wouldn't be able to afford something so precious."

"Da, tragedy always has it's price" He agrees, "But browse. For the Squire, and his lady, nothing is too miserable"

Colton mutters "I think he means it as a compliment or praise"

She murmurs back to him, "I bet he'd love my walker-hand."

"If you ever want a good price, he might consider it" Colton grins a bit "Mister Gluminski, is there anything ah... breaking the Escheat in the area, anyone hassling you?"

Sylvi peruses the shelves while Colton talks to the sluagh.

There seem to be all sorts of odd objects, and some of them are so tragic indeed. Dowry chests that still have things never used.... a teddy bear holding a death grip about a milk carton waiting for the child vanished over twenty years ago... a noose frayed with bits of fingernail in it.. So much more.

a candle stick, elegant, laid in a burned playpen

a bridal dress, pure white, save for tire marks over it.

She's absorbed in the sights, horrified and fascinated at the same time.

"No, Mister Gluminski, I can't throw out customers who actually stumble into your store and are cheerful. It's.. there's no code against cheerfulness, sir."

"Unjust world, is it not?" A sigh whispered in response.

Sylvi catches that comment and grins a bit. "Kind of undermines the mood?"

"See, the lovely lady, she is full of understanding" Mr. Gluminksi says with a nod .

She colors a bit at the compliment.

"yes she is, but pardon us for departing early.. we and our smiles should go" Somberly "patrol"

"of course, of course" The sluagh says "Should anything horrible happen to you, you will be remembered"

Sylvi carefully schools her expression into something less pleasant. "Thank you, Mr. Gluminsky." And she follows Colton out.

Once they are a good thirteen steps from the shop, he says "Gives me the wooliies how ..much he loves that stuff"

"No kidding. Some of those things....Ugh...they're not so much gross as disturbing."

"Very" He agrees "You'll like the Greaser more, trust me"

"The Greaser? Is that a nocker?"

"Ha, nope. You hungry? We can go there next"

"Well...my appetite might have taken a bit of a hit in there, but...yeah, I could eat."

"Oh, it's a bit of a walk yet so you've got time to build up an appetite for at least a mlikshake. My god those are awesome"

"Ooooh...Okay, you're speaking my language." She smiles. "A small one, anyway."

As they move on, he keeps patrolling.. while there are sights of a few chimera here and there, most of them are harmless and not to last long, which in some cases is a shame, because the tiny Unicorn with dragon fly wings is rather pretty

Sylvi spends as much time looking at the city surroundings as at the chimera.

"Besides the Baroness and Sir August, is everybody else okay?"

"Celebratory I think" he says "And boy did the JEster.. Shalimar, look smug. He's been on cloud nine... he and Miss Vashti are inseparable when he's not working"

"I remember him from Carnivale last year. He's funny." A pause. "It's weird to think of the Chieftain's and the Baroness's rank being the same. I mean, you know, it's not like we have a Jester or things like that."

He ponders that "Yeah, that's... odd to me. Do you think you should?" Curious and, not automatically assuming the noble way he knows is best. There was a time he would have been more certain

"No! I mean...I guess it works here, but I think in a Lodge it would be...well..." she hesitates over the word. "Kind of demeaning. I don't think Shalimar is being demeaned, though. I mean...he isn't, is he? He's doing what he likes and is good at?"

"Jesters in noble courts actually get away with a lot, they can speak truth to power... and thus have power themselves. "

"Yeah, but...well, I can't think of anybody who doesn't speak truth to the Chieftain. I mean, she's Gwydion. They'd be idiots to lie to her."

"Gwydion boons aren't foolproof. Eiluned are immune, Pooka can't help it, and even a Gwydion can just..get it wrong. Often with dangerous consequences. Also, it can take hours if folks keep trying to weasel"