#anywhere

Quatre taps at Symon, in case he hadn't noticed!

He murmurs his thanks, and sidles his way that direction. He knows the walk, the disaffected attitude, and the way to show interest without looking like he actually cares. Looking to catch prettyboi's eye.

The prettyboi says "its even more fun if you tell them you make devils worship YOU" in a whisper

The girls chuckle darkly.

Then his kith brother notices him, and says "Darkingale, Shadowshine..you two go do nothing for a bit. I'll be right back" And he does a similar 'don't give a shit walk' towards Symon

He nods, and pointedly doesn't watch the girls go past a cursory glance- no interest in poaching dreamers. "Sup?" He whispers, "Or are you one of the 'Salutations to you, o cousin, I see that death has not yet claimed thee?' crowd?"

"I do believe around here, " He says quoting a movie, or paraphrasing "That would be a good way to get your ass kicked. Sup's fine. " twitch of amusement "I'd ask if you were new in town but... well, questions that stupid cut me inside just a little"

"I heard that this place was under a pretty strict liege. Seems chill enough though out here." Casually looking the guy over for any sign of a tattoo/marking like Wenceslas had. "Name's Symon."

That turtle neck, though not fitting for the climate here, would perfectly cover such a tattoo

"You heard our liege was strict and you came here? wow." He shrugs "I'm D.R. ...stands for Ded Romeo"

"Not by choice. Family." A scowl. "Grandma refuses to move anywhere it hits freezing. Just scoping out, since I'll be here at least a week, if there's anything in particular I should, or shouldn't do, to remain more of less bodily intact."

"Yeah.Don't ask for haven.. you'll get it, but there are..requirements"

He tilts his head, greasy hair falling to obscure the other side of his face. "Like what?"

He says "i'm not allowed to tell you.. or I'd be violating his orders. But let's just say, I don't get as much bang for my buck as I used to ...and I really wish my body was 'pristine"

"Maybe you're not allowed to say. But, I have a tattoo. Show you mine if you show me yours."

Making a guess.

D.R.'s frown grows "I could, but if someone is tuned into my channel at the wrong time, you might wish I didn't"

"Your channel?" He frowns. But he cannot learn if he doesn't ask. "Go for it."

He lowers his collar.. and number 14 is there.

Looks a lot like the other guy's

Squinting, he kens the number/tattoo.

It's a chimera of some sort. And.. it's not active, but it could be spying much like Zara'sspiders... connected. But it does more.. it...

And he realizes now it doesn't just SPY for the Balor

D.R. confirms it "it's a tithing thing... I muse those dreamers, but a fraction of the glamour I would have gotten goes to HIM" A sigh "It's the same for all here. Everyone pays a percentage of musing results"

He holds up a hand, indicating for him to cover it silently.

He does "Now.. if you're smart.. you'll get the hell out while you can"

He gums at his lip and askes a sudden nonsequitor. "Have you read the Silmarillion?"

"Been a long time" He admits "Normally I muse goth girl wanna bes so it's more like 'whats Twlight THIS year'?" A sigh "the things we do to keep glamour going right? What's your point"

He tilts his head a little, letting his hair fall to one side so that the tiny spider may be seen for a moment, if the sluagh is keen eyed.

"Ungoliant, the mother of spiders, has eyes as unto a Palantir. You are no longer unseen under her eye." He sighs, and skipping several books, quotes, "But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass."

Symon nods. "Gotta go. But if you think of anyone else who likes those books, you could tell 'em, I guess."

"I will" he nods... D>r. Nods "Thanks for the good reads reccomendation" He ..may have seen the spider "See you around, guy whose name I don't remember"

A wave, and he heads out. Pondering the coffee shop.... might at least take a look. And Symon turns that direction to walk past, and peer in through the window as though to peruse the menu.

The Coffee shop has some plastics to be sure. Bored young adultstrying to find relevance etc. And yet he does sense glamour

Time is of the essence... but caffeine is the essence of time. Stepping in, he discretely kens for fae as he moves to order a cup of whatever their least offensive iced tea might be.

The Barista a middle aged boggan woman says "hi..." then her eyes widen as she sees he's a changeling "What can I get for you? To go" She adds to the 'to go' with a hint of 'fly you fool' in her tone

He gives her a polite smile - or his least offensive toothless grimace. Another turtleneck here, or maybe a pleasant scarf?

"I have a band who was thinking of coming to town to play a set. In protest of the lockdown. Government trying to tell us what to do, and all that shit. Do you have a bulletin board where a flyer could be posted?" He doesn't seem to have any flyers. In face, his hands are set on the counter, fingers splayed and clearly empty.

Oh she has a lovely scarf

"Oh.." She tugs at the scarf. Nervously

"Anti-vaxxer movement too. Who are they to tell us what to put in our bodies?" He grimaces even as he says it, though his voice is calm enough.

"I get it, some places don't like flyers cluttering up their walls. Well, if you think of anyone interested, maybe let them know."

"I.. I'm supposed to tell the.. the authorities" A swallow

He shrugs a bit. "Do what you need to do. Hopefully they don't get too out of whack over a dumb kid and his garage band of climate change deniers." A pause, and, "You remind me a bit of my mom." He says, a little quietly. "She always does the right thing. Me? I'm just a punk. I'll let you get back to your work. Gotta go practice, never know when you'll get a gig. Might be sooner that we think."

A guilty flush crosses the boggan, and she whispers "Please leave.. for your own good. Your mother wouldn't want you here. Not..not safe"

He looks a bit guilty, perhaps. "Teenagers never listen to their mothers." A shrug. "We're just too wild. But wait and see. Maybe things won't suck."

"The band name is the Sea-Lion and the Sparrow. It's a working title."

"It's.. lovely" She says hoping he'll take his tea and go

He goes.

This whole town feels like what he's heard his dad mention about some cold war nations backin the.. oh well,some ancient time period. I mean, it's not 'gloriousl eader' but 'the state will get you if you speak' is definitely there.

Perhaps that's why he's surprised when a pigeon flutters near him, and coos. With a note in it's mouth

He blinks, and kneels, offering his hand out. And a few stale crumbs leftover from tea.

And the bird drops off the note "FREEDOM iS NOT JUST A DREAM! FOLLOW ME to JUSTICE"