#earthrunes

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August taps at Vince's door.

The door opens and Vince gives August a surprised look. “Thy precognition is coming along swimmingly!”

"My... ah, well. Yes. Are you free? I thought we might.... ah, take a journey?"

"If you would like to work together."

“I was looking for you! Of course. Just let me change my shoes and I’m ready to head out...”

"Of course." He waits.

He opens the door to let August in. “Do you think the Italian loafers? Or perhaps the oxfords?”

“Maybe some detail about the journey would help me decide. Perhaps both...”

"Well, just re... just learning more about things for now."

"Something sturdy, perhaps."

The room is a riot of disarray, clothing strewn about and general disorder, at odds with how put together his outward appearance is.

"Are you.... is all well?"

“Ah, the kitten heels it is.” He nods sagely, picking out a pair of (designer) sneakers. Somehow, he arrows right to where they are, the mess making sense to him. As he sits and starts lacing them up, “Do you happen to know a ‘Ranger’? They would be an acquaintance of our dear Dolores.”

He thinks. "I...do not."

An amiable shrug. “A quest for tomorrow then. Tell me about today?”

"Well. We worked well together, Whispering. There's a bridge of love in Jefferson City, so I thought we might... learn more?"

(Whispering?)

(Willow Whispered. A chapstick.)

(Ah, I’d forgot)

He looks surprised. “I’m touched to be considered! Hast thou burnt thy other bridges to delve this deep in the barrel?” Taking just a moment to consider one shirt, Shake his head, and pick out a more suitable one, and a scarf that matches without conflicting with his jacket. “Fully girded for battle, my lord.”

"You were my first choice, Vince." He nods. "Shall we?"

Outside of Vince's room, they find the hallways bedecked with swags of ribbon - purple, green, and gold.

Someone has been busy.

"Hm."

“I see that Marty has visited!” He comments, after a few minutes of deliberation on whether the weather, or fashion, dictated him wearing a hat. He had finally decided on... not. As he steps alongside August, following his lead.

"It... he... has, yes."

There are also either bows or cut-out construction paper masks taped to the walls as the apex of each swag. This... is not boggan-approved.

August leads the way out to his older-model Prius.

He hmmms and “ahas” at the decor. “It’s a blessing that gold, green and purple are all my colors.” Thoughtful, “but my complexion looks good in most everything. Save orange, that is my one weakness. Thou art never to betray that trust to Shalimar.” Solemnly to the Sidhe.

"I won't." A promise.

After parking, it's a short walk to the bridge and they survey the adornments. "My thought was.... figure out what's here, record that, start with what looks like the oldest and take notes? Follow up on the story, see how those represented have made their way? I've brought dross to help us."

“Mmm. To discover the stories behind these locks.” He kneels to gently cup a rusted padlock in a hand, considering.

“Some of these... many of them are the same style.” Observing that some company has apparently decided to profit on customized locks in bright colors and with engraved names and images. “And some are clearly unique.” Slowly taking a few steps into the bridge, his attention drawn to the unusual- the battered master lock, the schlage, once bronze colored, now chipped and worn to steel, even a cheap combination lock like one might put on a gym locker.

August has visited before, and made notes, so there is a order established. "What do you think?"

One flickers with glamour

“Mmm. This one locks away a secret.” He points.

"Ah!" August approaches eagerly, checking his notes. "Yes.... can we whisper it?"

Possibly, it's not a treasure but a lock tinged with glamour

"An excellent sign, finding this. I also hope to find stories we can follow up on, encourage."

A nod, and he crouched next to the lock, cupping it between his hands. “Thou hast the whisper, I merely understand the nature of the item. Become one with the lock- stern, strong, and intrusted to protect that which it holds in arms unbending, unbreakable.”

And the cantrip takes to it with greater ease than Vince expected, then again, dreamers have already given it a touch of glamour

He needs but ask a question

August focuses too, gently sweeping the lock with his finger to bunk; a caress. "Who put you here?"

"Analee and Trevor, eyes a shimmering with memory, they decided to put me here, they can't afford Paris, you see?"

August writes. "Why did they put you here?"

"To mark their love eternal"

August thinks, looking at Vince. What should the last question be?

He murmurs, “I wouldn’t think of asking- does their love yet face any perils?”

(Assuming that is asked) "Financial problems do abound, Trevor's health, it is not sound . The Insurance company is being a bitch, and sometimes Trevor thinks she should be with someone rich. Analee protests this most inspired, but she's working double shifts.. and she's getting tired"