ahumanfascination-blog

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[ He would say 'forgive him' if he had the concept that he might have said something wrong, but he doesn't feel he has. Why bother with 'hellos' that last longer than 'lo. Why not just jump into the conversation. Mortals die so quickly but this one -perhaps not. ] 

That. I don't know whether to mark you as once-dead, now-dead, half-dead, or... [ he frowns and walks around the other. This is curiousity at its finest. This is where he wants to dive in and figure out the 'why'. This is when the fae get dangerous because they will plunk a person, bit by bit, like the petals off of a dandelion to expose their love's name - but when the person is left with nothing more than a spine and a head (the stalk and the core of the flower blossom) then they stand alone as their precious one dies. They kill mortals on purpose when they feel slighted - but most human deaths come by accident. They want to know more about these briefly lived mayflies. ] 

Soon-dead. Maybe just Dead. [ he doesn't know. And he is wary because the Fae are tied to the natural world, anything unnatural (such as forged iron and steel) harm them. He is wary - because this one is as unnatural as one can get. ]

Are you, talking about—

[ Honey touches his chest lightly, not seeming bothered that he’s basically been accosted for a conversation out of nowhere. I mean, he was probably expecting it, but… details!

Dark hair and dark eyes fade out, and Honey just smiles softly at the creature—man. ]

Yes, you’re. Right. It’s very tricky.

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[ Perhaps it would have been nice of him to inform Harry that he has no intention of being bound to Chicago. It is a gateway and nothing more. Though, where hge arrives at is a place with a different texture but the same vibe as Chicago - at least to the fae who swears that every steel and iron building is the same corrupt cage that imprisons and scars. 

He doesn't act on coincidences, so the stranger he met last night is back in front of him and he wonders if he owes Goodfellow a visit to remind him not to meddle. ] 

Sam Hain, [ he agrees, stepping around Matthew to look at the wall. Magic is inherent in the Fae, or at least the Old Ones. They aren't taught to wield it,as it is as natural as breathing, but their powers are strongly limited now thanks to Iron and Belief. He sees something on the wall though and bites back the word 'tricky'. It doesn't do to say it often. ] 

I am visiting. Wandering. Remembering. I am taking my time. Something humans have forgotten. Now - [ he traces a hand over the wall. ] I am learning about this rather - mischievous - thing. What are you doing? [ and he doesn't mean 'what are you doing here' but 'what are you doing at this moment and the moments before I met you - with the wall and the magic, no information before that is requested, but he will take it if freely offered. ] 

Writing on the Walls || Samhain

[ Matthew’s doing an entire sweep of Soho, because apparently even the Aldermen can’t be trusted to find every single instance of the graffiti. Their eyes seem to slide over it, and Matthew thinks he knows why. It’s a subtle, ancient magic, the same kind the beggars use; the magic of being ignored and unseen because nobody wants to look, nobody bothers to look, because then they would feel obligated to help. ]

[ He’s just found the second bit of graffiti, identical to all the others: meek, black letters whispering, make me a shadow on the wall. He simply marks the spot on a map, because he’s realised by now that he can’t destroy the writing. They pause in what they’re doing when the feeling of Samhain’s magic prickles over their skin, and it takes them a few seconds to place the feeling. ]

Sam… Hain, wasn’t it? What are you doing in Soho?

[ The map is stuffed into his satchel, out of sight, as Matthew turns to face the fae. ]

[ahumanfascination-blog]

sighttouched is here.

[ He's a bit more calm now that the full effect of being back in the mortal world has lessened. He's drinking tea now - but really it's more sugar than liquid, and he's almost tempted to slide a few packets into his pockets but no - mustn't do that. ] 'lo. 

[ He's not quite as good at greetings when he doesn't know someone, and the problem with not knowing someone is it is very very easy to draw ideas and first impressions and -- ]  You have nothing there. 

[ he quirks his head to the side and the dark-haired, dark-eyed glamour faded. ] 

Tricky. 

[ahumanfascination-blog]

matthewswifts started following you

[ You'll have to forgive him. He hasn't seen this one befre before. Yet. Well, he's seen those sorts of him, but he hasn't seen him. He's been gallivanting around with a wizard in Chicago who is once-dead and fae-tied and humanish but not human enough, and it has been centuries since Samhain has seen a human outside of his realm, and even though this new stranger has a sense of 'other' about him - Samhain can't help but stare. Mortals are beloved by the fae - afterall. Even if the fae like to tease, tempt, play and meddle with them. ] Sam Hain. 

[ and then he remembers something more - for his social skills are rusty and it's far too long til his name day. ] Hello. 

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I’ve told you that I’m a tricksy wight, and I am, my sweet. But there are those in the Seelie Court who would make me seem a very perfect knight.

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[ooc]:

Dear Harry,

You did your naming thing again. I had Samhain all set in my head - start playing him. I see that he's playful and wild - you call him Sam and now he's set in being playful/wild/confusing morals.

Stop naming things. 

Or name me Jessica Alba. 

Love, Your AG-Aunt.

[ahumanfascination-blog]

sapphiresidhe is here.

  [ and he was having fun - til one of Dresden's affiliated court showed up. He doesn't reveal himself, why should he? He's not their kin or kind. And frankly, he doesn't want to be pulled into anything with them. He knows Harry Dresden and John Marcone - but he is not playing courts and politics. ] I suppose you're not lost. 

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Thank you for letting me go. 

[ Samhain is always going to be specific in his wording. When he thanks someone, at least. When he asks for a favor - his wording is going to be less specific. Especially if  he is talking to mortals. He can't kidnap them, but if they give their word then they are held to it. 

He finds Chicago beautiful and ugly. He finds it beautiful because of all of the people. He finds it ugly because there is something abhorrent in how the people are crowded together, how they are slammed into tall babel buildings, but he doesn't talk about war anymore. He doesn't like seeing humans die by the thousands, by the millions. And yet, Chicago holds so many... ] 

But your life could be longer, [ he teases, because he enjoys teasing those that make it difficult for the Fae to show their love. So, instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a simple thistle. Samhain likes to give little presents. ] I swear that this is not meant to bind you, harm you, or even aid you. It is only a flower. It is a 'hello and thank you for being my escort and friend, Harry Dresden. 

[ he looks to a street vendor and then back to the Wizard with a serious expression as fae melds to glamour-made man. ] Harry Dresden, I don't eat dogs. They are used for hunting. Fruit and vegetables and bread. Maybe sometimes a rabbit or stag.

[ then he brightens again. ] 

Do you have honey and cream? Or --

Pizza. Harry Dresden, do you have pizza?

[ Harry lets go.

Gesturing to the city rising around them, he does a neat spin on his heel and then steps back onto the sidewalk, into the flow of people. There’s so much to see in Chicago. The Grey City, she’s called. The Windy City. A beautiful creature at a distance, and when you step into her streets and arteries, you can see the scratch of time and blood and grime. She’s beautiful in her still-fire-scarred glory, remnants of old fights and wars, something fierce and inviting. A crossroads, where billions of feet have trodden her ways and flown through her skies.

And the people. Oh, the people. Personally, Harry’ll never get tired of the city, because the people are what make everything worth it. ]

The blood still exists, but I think we’ve gotten a little better at cleaning it up quick.

[ He tilts his head a little, shrugs at what Samhain encapsulates in his very existence. Wild, powerful, built on old sacraments like blood and breath.

Harry laughs a little at the mention of his job though: ] The job’s only done when I’m dead. Knighthood is for life. And… generous as your offer is, my answer’s “no”. [ But the subtle smirk and the sharp light in his eye dictates his true intentions. That he isn’t going to remain shackled until death, that he will break free. Because he is mortal at heart, and human, and has more to live for than Knighthood and Winter. A daughter, a husband, friends and a city.

He points to a street vendor, and changes the subject: ] Hot dog? They’re a little more recent than the French Revolution, I think you’ll like ‘em.

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But there are hollow dales in this land where the Darkness has never been lifted, and the trees are older than I am.

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[ Samhain watches to learn. He doesn't watch to threaten. He has always been the one that prefers action over words, and if a lesson needed to be taught then it would be done quickly. He watches Harry because he wants to see what bit is still human. ]

You can let go now, Harry Dresden.   

[ he looks around the city, what he can see of it. He's been concentrating so much on the people that he's nearly forgotten the city itself. So he takes it in. ] Not home, but for a little while - it will do. [ he's not impressed with the steel buildings that erupt from the ground like giant tombstones erected in silent memory to men with egos too big and faith too small to think that they will ever be remembered otherwise. ] I haven't left home since the French Revolution. The ground being given blood was too much temptation for me. So, I stayed away, hoping that when the war ended, I'd come back - but wars continued, and there was more blood, so I stayed away longer and longer. Then the Erl-King came, and Beltane has been to visit, then, we thought it'd be best that I visit. 

[ this is all said very matter-of-fact. He's here now, and he wants to see the world that he's been missing. ] When your job is over - you should stay longer. Forever even. I'd love to have you.

[ no really - he would. ] 

[ Harry knows old ones like you, Samhain.

Odin Allfather. The Erl-King. The Mothers. And what he’s learned with that knowledge is when to defer, when to defy and when to smile gaily at a very, very old Sidhe creatures that could snap him in two like dry kindling. The Knight smiles in a way that understands his position, but doesn’t let it become fear for his life, or his safety. Instead, he keeps his hold on Samhain’s elbow so he doesn’t go rushing off into traffic again and beckons to the city. ]

Then, you’re Marcone’s guest, as this is also his Accorded Territory. I’ll assign myself as your escort in the meanwhile, since I’m sure you’re itching to check out the city. How long has it been since you’ve been mortalside again? [ He manages well enough, slipping courtly skill into his cheeky smirk. Because really, he doesn’t want to see Samhain burn because he’s gone poking at cars and payphones. ]

I keep leaving because that’s my job, Sam. Mortal liaison, among other things - I get a lot of Frequent Wayfarer miles. I’m doing well, though between you and I, I’m still a little surprised that you’re here. It’s… a pleasure to see you again.

[ahumanfascination-blog]

truetransmutation is here. 

[ now you have caught his attention. Caught - held. He's sitting on the back of a bench, watching as others play but slowly diverge from the group and go home. Had this been in the before - this would be the start of the livestock being driven out to graze, for the wars to start. But in the here and now - it is just children playing, and the new stranger before him, he supposes. ] 

Hello. I am... [ what did Harry Dresden call him? ] Sam. Though, not Sam I am. We're different in that. [ he had heard a mother read to her daughter and that had stayed with him. ] Who are you? [ he has to ask, wondering if humans are still reluctant to give up their true names. It would work in his favor if they have forgotten why they have middle names. ] 

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[ Samhain looks at Harry for a long moment, his face turning serious for what could have been a heartbeat or a lifetime. There's fire in his eyes and smoke in his shadow, and under the surface is old blood and older sacrifice, but then he laughs - because you'll do, Harry. You're not quite as beloved since you're once-dead, but you'll do. 

So after getting pulled back and into the sidewalk (and he has to admit that he doesn't like how the earth is being stifled, Harry - you should fix that.) he slings his arm around Harry's shoulders. ] 

I didn't know I was coming either! I received an invitation. 

[ what he received was a wedding announcement to John Marcone's wedding, and it really isn't an invitation, but a thinly veiled request to stay away, but it has Samhain's true name on it, written in such a way that it can't be seen but he knows it's there, so really - of course he'll come. 

Samhain is all jubilation and exuberance, and if Harry isn't careful, he'll be perched up on a light post and finding out the hard way just how much is made of iron and steel nowadays. ] 

How have you been, Harry Dresden? I've only seen you a handful of times since you've been home. You keep leaving it.

[ home is, for Samhain, the fae realm, and his tone is slightly reproachful. Who wants to leave the Fae once there? ]

[ Oh, he feels you. It’s a hard thing, adjusting from Faerie to the mortal world. Everything is lights! colors! heartbeats! yummy smells! human beings! street light! the ambient sounds of traffic and footsteps! for a length of time in which you’re quite delirious and want to snuggle up to the closest mortal being just because the give you a single point to focus on, while the rest of the world settles. It’s overwhelming.

So, Harry sort of catches the Sidhe by the back of his shirt and tugs him out of the street before he gets run over. ] Welcome to Chicago, Sam. I didn’t know you were coming, I’d have met you.

[ahumanfascination-blog]

He has to say, he should have known better than to wait so long to return to the mortal realm. It was one thing to live in a place that was devoid of human conflict and muddled morality, and it was another to miss the vibrance and life that the humans had. He even fashioned himself a good glamour so he could walk uninterrupted. Though, his smile might be a bit too bright, and he's willing to stop and talk with anyone - so devoid was he of human contact for over two centuries. 

It was to be expected then, when he stopped at the park, that he'd find himself standing at the edge of the baseball field and just watching how the humans interacted. "Like mayflies," he whispered fondly.