The "Research Department" has its offices off the "East Room" of the old library, through the glass doors, up the stairs.. which are bronze, not iron, as Faeries have never gotten along well with iron.

Present are two of the senior directors, both well dressed conservative looking gray haired people who certainly do not look like the kind of people who believe in fairies- Edna Birnbaum and Dennis Flattery.

Also present- The "new" PC's, Darren, Mouse, and Brynn.

And a pointy red hat.  Very small.  Sitting on a lace mat in the center of the polished oaken table.

"It's all we have, and it's quite puzzling, says Edna Birnbaum.  "Julian brought it back for us, along with the description of the wearer.  One of the Little Folk, clearly, but... I don't think it's one we've encountered before."

It is mid November, and weeks before the traditional Christmas Tree lighting in the city.  Yet, in three places so far, Christmas Trees, fully decorated and lit in all their glory.

At first the Library was ready to dismiss this as a prank by Pixies.  But... with the Fey, one can never rush to judgement.  There is danger in the most harmless looking things, and the most dangerous looking things sometimes mean no harm at all.

"Julian got a good look at him, in Bryant Part, and he was not a Pixie," Dennis Flattery says. "He ran, he did not fly, for one.  I don't think he was a Gnome, either, despite the red hat.  Gnomes can be playful, but not like that.  Now, Christmas Trees and all, it sounds like harmless fun, but there's something deeper.  The decoration on the trees... little hanging ornaments with ancient Norse Runes on them.  Odd, no?  And, you know our other members are at this very moment dealing with reports of Trolls... two Trolls, now.. who have apparently very recently arrived from Norway.  A Troll can be a very dangerous thing.   Norway...and Norse Runes... I don't believe coincidence stretches that far, not when there's Fey involved.. far too much magic in the air.  There is something going on here, and I am feeling increasingly disturbed that I don't know what it is."

"And honestly, we don't even know where to start," Edna says.  "Post a watch at other Christmas Trees being set up?  It's November, between now and Thanksgiving... there must be hundreds that will go up across the city.  I don't think that's how to do it."

Mouse approached the table curiously.  He had encountered redcaps before, but their caps reeked of old blood and death.  They were also notably larger than whatever had worn that cap.

He sniffed curiously at it, letting his sense of smell tell him more about the wearer while also learning the scent, preparing himself to track it if it becomes desirable to do so.

Brynn was seated on one of the plush library chairs and currently leaned back on its two legs rocking gently back and forth as she stared at the red hat. She was a contradiction to most in the room. She was dressed in ragged hiking boots, dirty jeans, and a red hoodie with a faded yellow Pac-Man on its front. She had grabbed hold of her bushy tail and was idly stroking her cheek with the tip, and occasionally brushed through the course hair with her free hand as she lost herself in thought regarding the situation.

She seemed to become aware of people talking around her, and leaned forward to drop the chair onto all four legs. She gently patted Mouse's back as she stood up and said, "I can probably get eyes on some of the more popular trees that have't been tricked if you'd like. My children are busy this time of year, but handouts always come better near signs of good cheer. So, it's not like they'd even be put out that much."

She smiled down at her friend Mouse and said, "In the meantime, Mouse and I can investigate the trees that were messed with. Maybe he can pick up a trail that we can follow."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Tue 23 Feb 2016.

There is no smell of blood from the hat.

"I was hoping you could find some of the other Little Folk of the city," Edna suggests.  "They are shy, but... Pixies, especially, are often drawn to children."

"Pixies are daft," Dennis Flattery interupts.  "And there's only a few in the city.  How do you find them?"

Pixies have a reputation, of being the least serious, most childlike of all Fey.  Many of the more... focused... Fey routinely question their sanity.

"That's why we have Brynn and Mouse," Edna says.  "It doesn't have to be Pixies.  But this seems... so much like what Pixies might do."

"Julian saw him.  Not a Pixie."

"Well, I still think the Little Folk... wherever we can track some down... would be a good place to start," Edna says.

The hat, he decided, smelled delicious,  Mouse tentatively licked at the hat

He sat back down, licking his chops, and looked at Edna, giving her a decidedly non-doglike nod.  Pixies' love of sweets was a well known thing.  Finding them, he thought, could lead to whatever it was that they were seeking

He just hoped they didn't try to braid his tail again.  Little bastards.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:11, Thu 25 Feb 2016.

Amara comes running in "Oh, sorry I a, late." She says with a grin as she walks over and looks down at the men. She wondered what was up though she had heard part of the issue. It was always soo hard for her to talk with pixies unless she shifted to their size, which she had no trouble doing.

Brynn looked up from the hat to look at the two directors as they had their little spat in regard to how to best approach the situation. She looked at Mouse when the two weren't looking in her general direction, rolled her eyes, and winked with a smile.

She looked back at the two and raised her hands up with her palms toward them and said, "All right, all right! We get the idea. Mouse and I will be happy to..." She paused her thought as the doors opened and Amara came in. Brynn, who could easily pierce the veil, looked up at the impossibly tall Djinn woman. She smiled and waved her fingers as she said, "Better late to the party than unaccounted for."

She looked back at the two directors and said, "Ok. Find the pixies, maybe even Julian who seems to know more than it's not a pixie, and go from there." She tugged her hat down tighter on her head and looked at Amara and asked, "Feel like tagging along then Amara?"  She didn't know this woman as well as she would have liked, but knew of her at least. Maybe this little adventure could rectify that.

Mouse looks at the tall woman.  She smells of hot sand and something spicy that he couldn't identify.  Well, and of magick, but a lot of things around here smelled of magick.  It made him sneeze sometimes.

"Woof."  His bark was quiet and friendly.

Julian is with the other group at the moment, but Edna gives out his cell phone number.  The magic of Cell Phones allow all the players to contact any others.

Mouse is an unfortunate exception.  Alas, he lacks opposable thumbs.

"It's hard to say just where you should even start," Dennis says.  "Pixies are so unpredictable, so... peculiar.  Codgery Tom might know one.  And there have been probable sightings.  Central Park by the Children's Zoo, the garden at Wave Hill... I've heard rumors.  But Pixies are fairly random."

"But they like flowers and young children," Edna says.

Amara looks at Brynn "Sure, it will be fun. I can get down to their level so it will be fun" she suddenly shrinks to about 12" high with her lower body a swirling mist as she floats about face level with  Brynn "Lets go find some pixies!

"Umm." Darren clears his throat uncertainly and stands. He's a fairly unspectacular looking young man dressed casually in faded jeans and a green button down shirt. "Did I hear you all say something about a disturbance among the Fae in the city? I think I'd like to help."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:28, Fri 26 Feb 2016.

Mouse barked happily and walked over to a small bundle by the door.  He nosed around for a moment then stood with a small bundle clasped in his jaws.

Walking back to Brynn, he shook out the bundle and laid the service dog gear at her feet, wagging his tail happily.

Brynn clapped her hands excitedly as the Djinn shrunk before her eyes and teased, "You're nearly pocket sized now. Makes for convenient traveling." She watched Mouse shuffle off to gather a disguise of sorts and hummed softly. She was about to comment when Darren Piped up. She looked at him and frowned slightly. It had been a while since she was at the library. Mouse she knew. Amara she knew. This person? She did not know.

Just because she didn't recognize him, didn't mean he wasn't to be trusted. If he was in this part of the library, he had to be associated with these workings. She grinned and said, "Um, sure? I'd prefer to know who you are before we go off traipsing after Pixies though."

She squatted down and retrieved the kit Mouse had brought over and began the process of gently dressing him in his disguise. She glanced over at the directors to look for approval or disapproval in their faces in regard to the human. She then looked back at Darren and smiled as she fastened the last of the buckles on Mouse as she waited for his response, or input from the others.

"I'm..." Darren hesitates, looking around at the others. "New here?"

He winces, the moment he says it, knowing he must sound foolish.

"That's obvious, of course. I mean that I just moved to the city, but if you think there's some kind of trouble with the spirits here I'd like to help if I can."

Amara becomes the same height as Darren "So you are really new? I have been here for a bit, I think 50 or 100 years but I am really old, too old to admit so a 100 years is like nothing I guess. But anyway, tell us about your self. And I will tell you about me if you want to know." she says in an almost perky voice as she walks around, not seeming to want to sit.

Mouse barks once, looking intently at Darren.  He wags his tale and nods in a particularly undog-like way.

He then sits by Brynn and waits for the stories to begin.

Darren studies Amara, blinking as he finds it hard to focus on her; almost as if she is shifting form before his eyes. Did she just say she'd been here for 100 years? He must have misheard, misunderstood.

"I don't know much to be honest," he admits. "I just moved here recently, though I'd been to the City before to see concerts or whatnot. There's not much, uh, magical about me, I guess; except that I've always had these really vivid dreams. From a friend, I think. She, the dreams, they told me I needed to come here, but I don't know why."

He shrugs.

"I've been poking around with... I guess you'd call the occult groups? For a couple months, but that makes them sound more sinister than some poorly showered kids with tattoos and nose rings; and all I've managed were some vague clues that I'd learn more at this library. I've been coming when I can and trying to do some... book research. Sounds like I might learn more on the streets, though."

"Ah, what is in the books can be so wrong. Like everyone thinks I should be all powerful and stuff, well at least according to Disney. So are you basically human?" she says looking at Darren.

Brynn listened to Darren tell his tale, and was a bit confused concerning how he made it this far into the library if he really didn't know much about what the real world was. However, there was a vetting process, and she respected it enough not to over-worry on the incidentals. If he was here, it was supposed to be and that worked for her.

She nodded as Amara responded. She said, "The wrong books yes. Most anything you find written at Barnes & Nobles certainly. Stick with us, we'll corrupt your sense of just about everything soon enough. You, um, might want to avoid the occult groups out there. Most are harmless. Others? They can be dangerous in the idea of misinformation that may cost you in this line of work."

She then smiled and looked at Amara. She grinned and sounded incredulous as she demanded, "You mean you aren't going to grant all those wishes I asked for when you first arrived at the library?" She sighed dramatically and squat down to pet Mouse as she said, "All of my preconceptions are being destroyed boy. I bet you're going to tell me you're just an ordinary mutt off the street next eh?" She wrapped an arm gently overaround him and hugged the dog, before she stood.

She said, "Ok. So, you're still new to field work. That's fine. I would suggest you listen to Amara, Mouse here, and I. We've been around the block a few times. Since you're new, you get to play the handler. I guess Amara could too if she wants." She picked at her clothes and said, "My cover identity doesn't really scream I have enough money to have a service animal, so I get to be free!" She twirled in place on the tiptoes of one foot, stopped, and asked, "We ready then? Last Pixie I ran into was in the park. Should we maybe start there? Or, do you think we have a better chance with visiting the scene of the crime as it were? I'd wager fairy gold Mouse here can get a trail to follow." She looked at the dog with a great deal of affection dancing merrily in her eyes.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:19, Sun 28 Feb 2016.

Mouse tilted his head to the side with a look that might almost be considered pensive.  The he stands and moves protectively to the left side of his new human friend.  If there is danger, the human will be the one most in need of protection.

As he stands next to Darren, the handle of his harness even with the man's hand, he looks back up at him.  His expression is notably impatient.

"If wishes were for the granting, what would be the point of life?" Dennis Flattery asks, rhetorically.

"Anyway, I've updated you on the news, I live this to you, now.  I have some work to do... and my periodontist appointment in the morning.  Good luck, all, we're counting on you."

"Let me know if you need anything," Edna adds helpfully.

OOC: Most of the characters have what we call "contacts", others that they know who live here, and were possibly involved in the characters' lives prior to the events of the game.

So I can start handing a few out, in pm:  (More to come!)

"Yes, I like to read and find out what the humans misconceptions are. But then I also love going out into the different pars and places. I really prefer the rooftop places of course. I have never known any of my kind that had a fear of heights." she giggles as she looks at everyone.

She looks at Brynn "And yes, you are not going to get any wishes from me unless it is food, drink or a ride. But I can make as many dog biscuits as I want" she says with a grin.

"So, lets get ready to head out and start asking questions. I know a few Sylph's that might know something. I know were they hang out. They are always fun to be with." she was not sure about Darren but he had gotten into the library some how. She figured she would find out soon enough.

Just let me know where the party is headed from here, and I will set up the next thread.

Basically human? Well, Darren's family had always wondered about his Uncle Roy, but probably not in the way they were considering. "Yeah, I suspect I'm about as much of a basic human as you're going to get."

He's known enough, of course, not to trust anything he found in the fantasy section of the bookstore, and he's tried to be careful who he's talked to, but he stops himself before he can start to protest to the others. If what they are saying is true these are real fairies. Anything he says about how little he knows is just going to make him look even stupider in their eyes than he already does.

"Thanks, I promise, I'll try to follow everyone's lead." He leans down to pat Mouse on the head, taking a closer look. Straightening, he wraps the leash around his hand and jingles it slightly. "Ready for a walk through Central Park, boy?"

"I suppose central park is a place to start. Then we can go see the Sylph's who might know something, unless anyone else has an idea. I am fine either way" she says as she starts floating around.

Brynn nodded her head and then shook it as they were asked if anywhere else might be a good start. She grinned and said, "Might want to keep your feet on the ground though Amara." She moved to the door, opened it, and swept her hand in a grand gesture. She said, "To adventure!"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:35, Tue 01 Mar 2016.

"Woof!"  Mouse barked a single excited bark.  His tale wagged furiously as he firmly led Darren towards the door.  For the briefest moment his eyes seemed to flicker like lambent emeralds.

Amara grins "Oh right. Stay on the ground." she says as she floats down and changes her size to a woman that is 5' 8".  "Now in my office, I have some roller blades. We could roll into central park" she says as she stops at the door.

When ready, the group can move on to Central Park.

Rather abruptly, one of the phones began to ring in the office.

Amara looks over at the phone and picks it up. "Hello. Can I help you?"

The voice on the other end was rather rushed, and began to speak quickly, "Umm...Hi. This is Julian. Julian Winters. I'm reporting some findings about our Troll...seems this thing is tying in with our Christmas Tree mystery."

He went quiet a moment before continuing, "...um...who's this?"

"Oh, this is Amara Tahan. So where are you? We will be there as soon as we can" she would be slowed down of course because some of these others could not fly.

A sigh of relief was audible on the other end before he continued, "We're at the police station right now. Trying to get the Troll free. The hat I collected from earlier though...The Troll mentioned a type of Fey called the Nisse? I believe they are responsible for the Christmas Trees...and on top of that, this Troll thinks they might have taken a Troll Prince."

"A troll Prince? There is such a thing? Really? Well, we will be right down to the police station. See you soon. If you need us further, call my cell" she gives him her cell #.

She looks at the others "OK, lets get going. We need to go to the police station and bail out a troll"

Mouse tilts his head curiously as the Amara announced their change in plans.  Why, he wonders, would anyone want to help a troll?  Trolls, he thought everyone knew, were for biting.

His new friends seem to be okay with helping though.  So he would help the troll, but he would be prepared to bite if it became necessary.

Darren frowns, only having caught half the conversation.

He felt a lot braver about the prospect of looking at Christmas trees in the park than dealing with either trolls or policemen.

"So, right. What exactly is the new plan? You know, maybe I don't want to know. I'll let you take care of it and just follow along to give Mouse a nice walk, eh?"

"Well, I was hoping we could get a clue or two from the troll. I don't know much else to do other then see my air friends. But lets get out of here. You all want to take a cab or what?"

Darren strokes Mouse's neck.

"How are you with taxi rides, boy? I'll let you stick your head out the window."

Mouse turns his head to look at the human.  He somehow manages to raise an eyebrow at the human.  He does, in fact, love sticking his head out the window of a taxicab, who wouldn't.

He nods, enthusiastically.

Amara calls for a taxi to meet them down stairs. "I called a taxi, I keep it on speed dial in case I need it when I can't fly myself." she says with a grin.

She tries to call Breeze to see if they can meet up with right now. Otherwise they will head to the police station.

It took the "troll" party well into the evening to find the Troll and get him out of the holding cell at the police station.

After that, everyone was pretty tired, especially the troll.  It wouldn't make sense to link up there, because it would be well after midnight by the time anyone

So we are going to assume that it's actually the following morning, so the characters here and elsewhere can all be on the same time.

The Troll spent the night in someone's home, having no where else to go, and needing sleep.  Trolls sleep a lot, sometimes for years, but this awakes with a backache and jet lag in the late morning.

So... let me know where everyone wants to be and I can create the appropriate scene.  You can go on the trip to Central Park planned before, or check in with the Troll in the other thread.

But meanwhile, Amara calls a friend, a well known weather expert who is also known in Fey circles in the city.  But of course, outside of a few close friends, no one knows that this particular meteorologist happens to be a Fey.

She's got to work today, unless Amara convinces her it's very serious and she should take some time off... but she can meet over lunch, if Amara wishes.  Or after work.  Just name the time!

Amara asks Breeze  if they can meet over lunch. She is going to central park to check on an issue.  She explains what is going on and that there is a troll in town.

Amara talks to her friend...

Sylphs are creatures of the air, and generally have a touch of claustrophobia.  Sometimes a severe touch.  They prefer high places, and failing that, open places, and never closed in places or underground places.

If you are going to the park, I can meet you there," Breeze says over the phone.  We can have a picnic, or something like that.  We can meet at Columbus Circle... or the Plaza... oh, I also know where you can get French Macarons near there!"

Sylphs are also completely indifferent to cold temperatures.  They are naturally at home in the freezing air in the clouds, and tend to overlook things like "Humans generally do not picnic in November."

Sylphs are also know to favor light and airy foods.  The French Macaron is, to them, one of the finest desserts ever created.

Breeze is aware that Amara is also an "Air" creature and therefore something like a Sylph, but has never been clear on the details. Unlike the Library's crew, she doesn't spend a lot of time researching the habits of Fey.   She does feel that if Sylphs like something, like Macarons, then Amara would probably like it too.

"Breeze, A picnic is a wonderful idea. Come on down and we will meet you. I have a few friends with me. And I would LOVE some French Macarons!" she said excitedly as she thought what the hell are they? "See you soon Luv!" she hangs up and looks at the others OK, we are having a picnic at Columbus Circle or plaza, what ever it is"

Darren is pleased by this turn of events. Whatever the cause, a picnic sounds a lot more pleasant than meeting a troll and hanging out around prisoner bars.

"Looks like we get a walk outside after all, Mouse!"

Mouse looks up at Darren and winks, before nodding his great, shaggy head.

He turns his attention to Amara, tilting his head curiously.  He doesn't think he has ever tried a "french macaron".  This will be an adventure...

They meet outside near the Plaza Hotel, at the southeast corner of Central Park, where the horse carriages, tourists and the food carts gather.

Horses can sense Fey Folk.  The Veil does not fool them.  Fortunately, they have no way of communicating this to the carriage drivers tending them.

Sylphs are one of those beings that can almost, almost pass themselves off as Human even without the magic of the Veil.  She might, to an ordinary Human's eyes, appear to be a little too thin, too delicate... but most would guess she's sick, perhaps.  Or maybe a model.  They might question some other odd things, but with a quick encounter, most would never think anything but "Human".  Long hair, pale skin, and quick and graceful mannerisms, but Human.  Unless they realized she weighed less than a third of what someone her size ought to weigh... Sylphs are part Elemental Air, and as magical creatures, don't fully obey the Laws of Physics.



Breeze already has a bag of macarons, purchased from a nearby shop.  The puffy, airy, and adorably colorful cookies are everything a Sylph could like, and one of the reasons that they also tend to linger in Paris.  An assortment of rainbow colors in a bag.

She pauses when she sees this is a Library Meeting.  Sort of, at least.  She's heard of that dog, and she knows it is a sign of Serious Things Afoot.

"This is Library Stuff, isn't it?" she asks.  "Have I done something wrong?  I didn't mean to."

Most of the Fey who live in the city know there are limits to their behavior, guiding their interactions with Humans, and these limits are for their own good.  And also, the good of the Humans of the city, who outnumber the Fey well over a thousand to one and could be dangerous if it dawned on them that magical creatures actually live in the world.

Fey folk also know that breaking these limits attracts the attention of the Libray.

"We're still going to have a picnic, though, right?" she adds hopefully.

Amara waves her hand in a 'matter of course way'  "Oh yes, I would not miss a picnic with you. We are on library business but I was hoping you could help us, so of course you didn't do anything. So lets go find a good place to sit and have a picnic." She buys stuff for a picnic from the vendors and carries it into the park to looks for a nice and privet place to have a picnic.

She introduces everyone to Breeze and mentions Breeze is one of her favorite Fey.

Mouse sniffs at Breeze, learning her scent in case he should ever need to find her.  He then sniffs at the bag she carries.  His tail begins wagging slowly as he licks his chops.

He turns and follows Amara into the park.  His nose and ears are alert for danger, though his eyes are focused hopefully on the food Amara purchased.

"Library business!" Breeze says, not entirely surprised at this point but still worried.

"It isn't me, is it?  I haven't done anything wrong, not at all.  I know I'm with Humans most of the time, but I like what I'm doing, and they don't know... and I still have time."

The older members of the Library group know what she's talking about.  For the Fey who have adopted Human identities, sooner or later, there comes the problem of the difference in lifespans.  Immortals like Sylphs can't stay in the same place with the same name forever, someone will notice the fact that you haven't aged.  Some have it all worked out.  Every forty years or so, Codgery Tom starts talking about retiring "back to Ireland" and selling it all to his nephew, who is coming out to New York soon but already knows the whole business because they talk all the time.

"Bejeezus," Codgery Tom would say, "I've talked about you all to him so much he'd probably know you like he's known you for years, first time you meet him!"

Humans would generally not live long long enough to see this ruse work twice.  Codgery Tom has used it five times.

Breeze won't have as long.  A wrinkled old Irishman is one thing, but people will notice much sooner when a woman doesn't lose her youthful looks.

"Another decade I think," Breeze says, thinking about her future.  "If I stay past that we'll come up with something, right?"

"No, no, as I said, we just need your help. As a Sylph, I know you must see a lot form high up. You know I am not one right?" she says with a grin as they walk along.

The problem we have is hanging Christmas ornaments with ancient Norse Runes on them. Julian got a look at the person who was a little person that lost a red hat but could not fly, it ran. So not a pixie. We are also dealing with reports of 2 trolls that have shown up from Norway. We don't know if its coincidence or not. We are hoping to find some pixies to see if they know anything." she lets anyone else fill in anything she forgot.

Breeze is happy to hear she's not the one the Library is interested in.  She seems a little paranoid about that.

This time of year, finding picnic space in Central Park is not hard.  The weather is cool.  It doesn't stop everyone, and the group is far from alone, but the park seems more spacious than usual.  And there are still the sidewalk vendors in the Plaza area to supply the food.

"Pixies are psychotic," Breeze says, echoing an opinion held by many of the more mentally stable Fey.

She continues: "Still, it's not like them to flaunt the rules on a scale like that.  That's a pretty big prank.  You say it was a Little One, but not a Pixie... a Brownie would never do such a thing.  Pixies are in the park often, especially around the Children's Zoo.  Pixies have a fascination with children.  Not in a bad way... I think they just think on the same level.  I could do a flyover, and see if any are out there, if you want."

"Do you know any pixies who would be more inclined to go for bigger kinds of pranks?" Darren asks this slim waif of a girl. Now that they have been introduced, he notices there is something off about her, but he never would have picked her out of a crowd as someone supernatural.

"Oh, that would be fantastic if you could do a fly over Breeze. We can set up our picnic while your gone and eat when you get back. Look for pixies and a shot person. Thanks so much luv!" she says excitedly.

"The truth is... I've never met any Pixies I really like," Breeze says.  "I don't know any, on a personal level.  Too.. crazy for me."

Breeze is one of those Fey with a Human life, and not just that, but a serious one.  While many Fey take up various arts (the Goblins work in sanitation, but that, to them, is an art) Breeze is a meteorologist.  An unusually scientific profession for a Fey, and one that speaks of a personality that is very different from the chaotic, free spirited Pixies.

She realizes that it won't take so long to set up a picnic... but maybe time for a quick flyover, checking out a few likely spots.

"I won't be long," she says.  "Don't eat all the good stuff."

Breeze takes the air. The Library staff can see here white cloud-like wings... but she's just a misty shimmer in the air to everyone else.

She sets up the picnic but doesn't let anyone eat much till Breeze returns. She pours some wine into plastic goblets she got. "Don't worry she says to Breeze as she fly's off.

Mouse sat quietly by the food.

He watched the sylph fly off with a tilted head.  He had known a couple of sylphs in his day.  None of them were like this one, though.  She seemed more like a grown-up than the others had.

After she was out of his visual range, he returned his attention to the food.  He would guard it until she returned.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:42, Fri 18 Mar 2016.

It does not take the Sylph long to make a quick survey.

She does it from a safe altitude.  She has no desire to actually deal with those little... pests... but she knows the signs.  The Mushroom ring, their signature portal...


She comes back in time for lunch.

"I know where I think we can find them," Breeze says.  "The Alice in Wonderland Statue.  There was a Fairy Ring nearby, and there were little Human children looking for something that wasn't there.  They can see Pixies, you know.  Veil or no veil.  They can see me too."

Amara hands a goblet to Breeze "Here you go Breeze. We can enjoy our picnic and then we can go over there and see what we can find out. I suppose I should go looking like I am small. Thanks again"

Mouse woofs quietly to Breeze.  He lies down, his great, shaggy head resting near her plate.  After a moment of savoring the wonderful smells of the food, he looks up at with sad, hungry eyes.

Unlike a mortal canine, Mouse's vision let's him see in color.  After a moment of looking sadly at Breeze, he turns and looks directly at a bright yellow cookie.  He looks even sadder when he looks back at breeze.

Darren glances over toward the Wonderland statue, catching a distant view of children at play. He can't see anything he would have thought amiss, though he does not there is less screaming and laughter than he would have expected.

He tries not to let his nerves deter him from the picnic.

"Thank you for the help," he tells Breeze. He takes a bite from his food and compliments Amara on the potato salad as he waits to see what the group will decide next.

Breeze looks at the dog, and at the cookie, and after a few moments of hesitation hands Mouse a cookie, pulling her hand away quickly, as if she expected she'd be bitten, or possibly, slobbered upon.

She sets into the picnic herself, eating very sparingly, a nibble here, a nibble there.  Sylphs have very delicate appetites, being mostly made of Elemental Air.

"You could try Milk or Yogurt," she says.  "Sometimes when I've been to Codgery Tom's... with friends, of course, it's the only place where you can be who you... you know what I mean, don't you?  Well, the little ones... I mean, Brownies, Pixies, not children... they like milk, and cream, and things like that.  Sometimes you see a Pixie with a little cup of milk.  And Yogurt, that's fermented milk.  That does things to Pixies.  I've seen it."

Breeze does not eat the pickle that came with the sandwich.  She inhales over it.  Apparently, with Sylphs, just getting the scent of food is enough.

Amara looks at Breeze. "So what does Yogurt to them?" she had never heard anything but there were not Pixies and such in the middle east. So any thing she could learn would be good.

"Yogurt is Fermented Milk" Breeze says.  "You know... milk, changed by... little thingies.. umm... I'm really better at meteorology than chemistry.  You know what fermented grape juice does to Humans?  It's like that, but... Pixier."

"Oh, so yogurt makes pixies drunk? That is interesting." She says with a grin as she looks at the others.

(ooc- does she know where Codgery Tom's is)

Everyone knows where Codgery Tom's is.  It is the Pub run by one of the city's oldest Fey, who often acts to help other Fey get themselves established.  Codgery Tom is a Leprechaun, and a rich one at that, thanks to very astute investment, generations ago, of a pot of gold.  It's a frequent hangout place for Fey, since there, they can be Fey.


** ** ** ** **

"Well, I've seen it happen," Breeze says.  "Of course, you and I being Air Fey, we have to be even more careful.  Alcohol vapors in the air, you know.  Don't put your nose into a full brandy snifter, or it'll go right to you!".

Amara grins at Breeze "Actually I can handle it fine as I am a Djinn. So we have no trouble with it. But I really appreciate your help. Now I just have to go meet these little ones" she says with a grin as she sips her drink.

Mouse barks and wags his tail.  Looking at Amara, he nods his shaggy head and winks one faintly glowing, emerald-colored eye.

Breeze progresses from entree to dessert with surprising speed- a nibble here, a nibble there, and done, on to macarons.

There is a child's yelp in the distance- astonishment, more than fear, by the sound of it.

"It's a funny thing with Pixies, and all the little folk," Breeze says.  "Do you know... someone once told me, at Codgery Tom's... there's something in the imagination of children that sustains them.  Not just belief, it's an old myth that not believing in fairies will hurt them.  But, something else.  Like there's some sort of feedback to how they are imagined to be, but children's imaginations are unfettered, and the Pixies like it that way. Does that make sense?   But they are like children in some ways, and very annoying.  What do you want with them?"

Amara grins at Breeze "No, I completely agree with you. I will have to go see what the kids are doing" She looks around to see if anyone is watching them.

As Breeze nibbles on a Macaroon, (Pistachio), Amara gets closer to the children.

The younger children- the ones likely to see fairies- are mostly "uptown" children, from well-to-do families living near by, watched over by less well-to-do nannies.

There is a Pixie.  Amara can tell.  It's amusing itself by making nannies think their little charges are careless, losing things like hats.

"Where's your hat, Oliver?"

"It's... someone took it!"

"No one took it, you dropped it over there, look!"

"But I didn't!"

Things like that are entertaining for Pixies.  For creatures that are drawn to the innocence and imagination of children, Pixies can be shockingly mean to them.  In little ways, yes, but still mean.

Amara can see through the Veil, of course.  She sees the Pixie- it's invisible to almost everyone.

But the Pixie can see Amara.  It watches, suspiciously, curiously, not quite sure if there is a problem or not.

Mouse spots the pixie and moves quietly to Amara's side.  His eyes glow like lanterns as he yips playfully at the fairy.  As his tail wags, he lowers his head and chest into a classic come-and-play dog posture.

Amara just smiles at the fairy. She whispers to Mouse "Maybe you could get it to play and get it over here."

Mouse's tail increases it's wagging as he leaps playfully forward before scampering bacwards, trying to draw the pixie into frolicking with him.  His tongue lolls out of one side of his mouth as he shakes his head, ears flopping crazily.

Mouse is aware that the pixie cian see that he too is of the fae, perhaps it will choose to be a new friend...

A Pixie's first instinct, seeing a charging dog, is to flee in panic, and for a few moments, that is exactly what the Pixie does.  Pixies know that dogs are very playful, but like cats, they think "Catch the flying thing!" is a fun game.

But then, the Pixie notices something... what Mouse really is.

The Pixie looks much like a slim young man, about a foot tall, with large translucent wings beating furiously.  He wears a camouflage vest, obviously stolen at some point from an "action figure".  Vast quantities of unguarded toys are, from the Pixie point of view, the best thing about the city, and there are many, many children who cannot understand why their toys vanish, and they get the blame.

"Black Hound, aren't you?" the Pixie says.  "Is it true someone will die if you howl*?  What do you want with me, then, I never heard of a Black Hound wanting to play."



*This is absolutely true.  But mostly because over a hundred people die every day in New York City, Black Hound or not.

Mouse nods at the fairies first question and shakes his head emphatically at the second.  His tail still wagging cheerily, he lowers his head again and gives a small woof.

Amara just watches to see if Mouse can get the Pixie to come over to the rest of the group.

It takes some patience to get a Pixie to understand that a dog is not trying to kill him.  This is because, most of the time, the games a dog wants to play with a Pixie are not considered fun from the Pixie point of view.

Small dogs can be even worse.

Fortunately, despite the name, Mouse is not a small dog.  After a few false starts, the Pixie hovers nearby.

"Umm... hi there.  You're probably looking for a nature fairy, but... I'm Panicle.  Umm... are am I supposed to throw a stick or something?  The Pixie swoops down and picks up a twig.  It's six inches long.

"Okay, I'll go easy on you for the first one.  No Pixie magic."  Panicle pats his tiny bicep proudly.

Panicle hurls the twig.  It lands about ten feet away.

With a happy yip, Mouse lept for the tiny stick.  Carefully holding it between his teeth he turned back to the pixie, dropping the stick a few inches ahead of Panicle.

His tail wagging merrily, he glances at Amara, giving her a sly wink as he does so.

Amara smiles at Mouse. Next time she will have to remember to come here as a kid to play with Mouse.

Darren stiffens. He has watched the clever tempting of the pixie by Mouse with interest, but he doesn't want to interfere directly lest he scare her away; so Darren tries his best to stay still and observe the interaction between the fey in their party and the newcomer, hoping he'll learn something about how to approach them in the future. He quickly finds himself feeling overly conscious of his every movement.

Amara looks over at Darren "Just act normal and be calm. You have to look like you don't care if they are there or not"

The Pixie cautiously picks up the twig, stares unbelieveing at the dog, and then hurls the twig again.

"Lights of Zelderath," the Pixie says, "I've gone and found a Black Hound what's gone happy in the noodle."

He looks down at his now rather moist hands.    "Yech..."

The Pixie wipes them on a leaf.

"Don't suppose you can speak, can you, lad?" he says.  "Can you tell me what's made one of your breed want to play?  There's no Pixie alive what's not liking games, but your kind, they say, are a little more grim than my kind."

Amara slowly walks over to the Pixie "Hello, no he doesn't speak but can understand. He loves to play and loves treats. What to give him one" she opens her hand and a large dog biscuit is there. She holds it out to the pixie.

The Pixie studies the offered dog treat for a moment.  It wouldn't be beyond the Pixie's ability to carry, but very awkward, and there are other considerations.

The dog might be friendly, but dogs can be a bit over-eager when slurping up treats, can't they?

At least, every dog the Pixie has ever seen seems to be an over eager eater.  Something that goes with basic doggishness.

"If you don't mind, miss, a slight mistake could cost me an arm, I'm just fine tossing this stick. Nice beast.  Good doggy.  I suppose you know just what kind of dog this is, miss?  I'm Ragwort, by the way.  Boldest Pixie in Central Park.  At the moment."

Mouse chuffs quietly, his tail still wagging.

He moves carefully up to the little pixie and sits facing him.  He raises one large paw, offering to shake with the pixie.

Ragwort considers the paw.  Much as a Human might contemplate the foot of a playful Mastodon, waving in front of him.

"Boldest Pixie indeed," Ragwort says.  "Would you give me your promise that you will not eat me?  Ah... a nod of the head will do.  One nod for yes, no nods for no... let's not over complicate.  Please understand, we Pixies are a fragile folk."

Mouse nods a single nod.  He looks vaguely insulted that someone would think he might eat them.  He'd done it before, of course, but never to a pixie or anyone that wasn't asking for it.  And, frankly, he preferred a cheeseburger to a redcap any day of the week.

To say nothing of bagels with creamy cheese and fish, or donuts, pizza, and, now, macarons.  People food was the best!

Amara tossed the treat in front of Mouse. "His name is mouse and he is a fairy dog. But he doesn't speak but understands. He also prefer burgers to anything living, so he will not eat you. I am Amara, a Djinn by the way." Now if she could only keep him talking.

"Pleased, happy to meet you," says the Pixie, in between throws of the twig (all of which require substantial exertion on the part of the Pixie.).

On the fifth toss the Pixie decides to have a little more fun with the dog, now that it's "safe".  He looks around carefully to make sure no mortals are watching.  With a wave of his hand, he gives the twig a little sprinkle of golden sparkle.  The dots of light settle onto the twig like motes of sunlight.

This time, when he tosses the twig, it does not obey the laws of gravity, but drifts further, suspended in the air.

"So, umm... this is your dog then," the Pixie says.  "And you're... out for a walk?  Hunting?  Never seen you in the park.  New?"

Mouse quickly snapped the treat out of midair and, with a couple of crunches, swallowed it down.  He then returned to the game of stick he was playing with the pixie.

When the stick began floating, Mouse barked with joy.  He began running and leaping about it.  Nudging it with his nose, almost like he's herding it, he turns it's course.  Soon he has it floating back towards Ragwort.

"Oh, I am relatively new to town and looking around. And no, his is not mine, he is a friend. He makes his own decisions. But this area is so beautiful. Where I come from is mostly desert. This is like a giant oasis. And I don't hunt, I shop for food or just conjure it. she snaps her fingers and makes a plate of sugar cookies appear after she makes sure no one is watching. She tosses one to Mouse.

"Oh, he is not your dog!" the Pixie says.  The Pixie continues in a bad French accent:  "That is not my dog!" and then giggles hysterically.

"Human movie joke!  They are the best!  Where do they get it all?"

More giggles.  Eventually, the Pixie composes himself.  He helps himself to a sugar cookie, which he holds like it was a plate, and sits on a nearby tree branch.

"Good thing that you came here," the Pixie says.  "We have a desert with sand, if you want one.  It's over there."

The Pixie points to the sand box in the playground.

"I wouldn't want to live in it, though.  You'll like it here.  You'll have lots of friends, since you can conjure cookies."

"Yes, it is amazing how movies have developed. And no, if I liked the desert, I would still be there. But that sand box is just a very small part of what my desert is like. Think of this whole city in sand as far as you can see and then you travel for days and days and days, and its still just sand" she says melodramatically.

"Are there a lot of Pixies here? I can't remember seeing many of you all here?"

Darren listens in rapt interest, awkwardly trying to look "normal", and settles on giving Ragwort what he hopes is an open and friendly smile. He's surprised to find pixies are movie fans, but then, he supposes Hollywood always did have a flare for the fantastic. He's enthralled by Amara's description of a city of sand and waits to hear more.

Pixes are not very good with math, measurement, any of that "real world science stuff".  They have no use for it.  This is only fair, as Real World Science says Pixies do not exist.  The two maintain a state of mutual non-recognition.

Unfortunately, this gives the Pixie no way to give firm answers to questions about the population of Pixies.  Fortuantely, Amara has asked only for a relative population size, not a count or even an approximation.

"Oh, sure, there's plenty of us, but we're hard to find," the Pixie says.  "Except for them..."

He points to a little girl, no more than four years old, hopping and stamping across the playground.

"And the likes of him," Ragwort says, pointing to Mouse.

It's something known to those who know Pixie Lore, and another facet of how Pixies do not get along with the rational, "Real" world.  Pixies are not naturally invisible.  Many think they are, but they are wrong.  The truth is, those who have embraced the Real World and its Science, those who know that four and five equal nine and a square has four sides, lose their ability to see Pixies.  And not just Pixies, but others in the  True Fairy category as well.  Sometimes, when the mind finally starts to lose its grip on Facts and Figures, perhaps with great age or the influence of strong drink, the ability to see them returns.  Not always.

Of course, those who can see through the Veil can see Pixies.

"It sounds to me like your desert isn't a fun place," Ragwort says.  "That's why there's no Pixies there.  It's better to be here.  Did you come for games, is that why you're looking for Pixies."

The enchanted stick floats back to them, nudged by Mouse.  Ragwort gives it a swat, and it heads off again with a slow spin.  The little girl, too young to understand that sticks don't float in the air, watches it with interest.

Violet had delivered the latest batch of costumes, this time for a Pantomime, and was taking a well deserved break before returning to her apartment. She heard a dogs playful barking and paused near the playground to watch him play. She was not expecting to see him herding a floating stick however!

Violet was an elf, clearly, and yet she stood there looking just as surprised as any human first seeing through the veil, aside from the fact that she didn't look as drunk as most adult humans seeing what they are not used to might be.

Ragwort the Pixie pauses in his games with the dog, looking at the young woman in the distance.

"Whoa," the Pixie says, perplexed.  "Like someone half done by the Veil, like it wandered off and left its work unfinished.  Like something a Pixie would do."

Mouse runs to Amara, nudging her hand an begging for a cookie.  As he does so he winks at her and then cuts his eyes toward the sidhe that is watching them.

"I wish I knew more about pixies, we don't have any of your kind in the desert. What can you tell me, do you all fly?" she wanted to let him tell her so she could make it look like she was curios, even though she really was curious.

She looks over and sees this elf walking she has never seen. "Hi, what are you doing, come on over"

"Hello, um, that is a very nice dog you have there." She smiled at both Mouse and Amara and gave a nod of acknowledgement to Darren, not seeming to have noticed Ragwort yet. She seemed to be trying to deliberately ignore the floating stick. "It's a lovely day for a walk in the park don't you think?" Her cheerful tone was slightly forced but the soft lilt of a Scottish accent wove through her voice.

"Maybe she's too sensible to see me,"  Ragwort says.  "But she should be seeing me... I think.. she's one of us, isn't she?  I mean, not one of me.  Waaay too tall.  Not gonna see her fluttering and frolicking over daffodils.  But she's still...   She's got it, doesn't she?"

Ragwort took the next opportunity he had to push the floating stick in her direction.

"I could dust her, but... you know..."

Pixie dust could give any mortal the ability to see through the Veil.  And fly.  And it had other side effects, which according to Pixies were almost always harmless.  But there were consequences to doing things like that.  Dusting mortals was not something socially acceptable Pixies did.  Even if it was fun.

Amara looks at Violet "This is Mouse" she points to the dog. "And this is Darren" who she points at "And this is Ragwort" she points to see if she sees him.

She looks at Ragwort "She should. And are all pixies about your height? Do all of you fly?"

Mouse woofs happily at her, wagging his tail.  As he does so, he lets his fae nature shine out.  His eyes suddenly flare with an emerald lambence fixing her with his gaze.

As the light fades, he walks towards her and gently sniffs at her hand.

Violet frowns slightly, not seeming to see Ragwort, then focuses on Mouse, jumping a little at the flash of light in his eyes but letting him sniff her hand and crouching down to scratch him behind the ears if he will let her.

"Nice to meet you Mouse." She smiles then turns back to look toward Amara only to jump suddenly, her gaze focusing on Ragwort for the first time. A crouch not being the most balanced of positions her reaction causes her to fall back slightly onto her bottom, though she tries to make it look at least semi-intentional. "Um... Hello Ragwort?" It comes out more question than greeting.

"So, do you know what you really are?" she says with a grin.

She looks at Ragwort "some people have no clue as to what they are" she waves her hand and a pitcher appears with a dark liquid in it as well as some goblets.

"Most Fey Folk know who they are," Ragwort says.  "It's the Human-folk who have much more trouble with that.  They all know at first.  The little ones know.  But then they forget.  And they try to get it back.  Some of them work at it for years.  Some of them try to find themselves, as if maybe they were doing just fine until one day they dropped themselves somewhere.  Me, I am a Pixie.  And the height, yes, it's perfectly natural for a Pixie.  Though, we come in a range.  Geometry is not our master!  Or we haven't mastered geometry, one of the two."

Ragwort is just shy of 10 inches tall.  It's a little taller than how many people imagine Pixies to be, but it's a good height, he thinks. Besides, as everyone a handful of well versed experts know, a Pixie's height is not fixed throughout its life.  Neither is a Human's, as a Human starts out quite small, grows enormously, and then shrinks a little, but a Pixie is not so chronologically defined.  It is emotionally defined.  A Pixie's height is based on its emotional complexity.  Most of them, able to handle only simple emotions and those only one at a time, are small.  A Pixie forced to deal with the conflicting emotions, subtleties, and conflicts of desire and responsibility that mature Humans face, can be almost Human sized.

That is a rare thing for a Pixie, and their own stories tell of just a handful, and the Pixies do not consider it a pleasant possibility.

"And we all fly," Ragwort adds, "When we feel like it.  You have to feel like flying.  You know... airy, zoomy... then you can fly."

Mouse was always happy to have his ears scratched.  Unfortunately, the faery seemed to startle at the sight of Ragwort and sat down rather clumsily.  He moved around beside her, nudging into the space between her arm and her body.  Then, taking a firm, yet amazingly gentle hold of her wrist with his mouth, he helps her stand.

He does so by slowly growing, not to his full size, until her feet are soundly on the ground.  He chuffs happily before returning to his normal-dog size.

"I'm a costume designer?" Violet responded. "And you're a pixie a hell hound and a witch?" It wasn't said insultingly but she was clearly trying to guess what they were, aside from the pixie whose species they were openly discussing.

"Thank you." Violet said to Mouse, wiping her slightly slobbered hand on her jeans. "Um... do hell hounds like dog biscuits?" One of her friends had a pet dog and Violet thought she might have a few left in her knapsack, she started rummaging and triumphantly pulled out a baggie of gravy bones.

Mouse woofs happily.  He doesn't much like being called a hell-hound.  On the other hand, more cookies!

All in all, he'll take the cookies and chalk the insult up to the fae being new to this.  His tail wags happily as he sits back on his haunches and raises his forepaws off the ground.  Reduced to normal dog tricks, the things I do for cookies, he thinks to himself.

Having no idea that she's said anything wrong, Violet just focuses on feeding the dog biscuits to Mouse and scratching him behind the ears some more. "Such a good dog."

She looks ay with a grin Violet "No, I am not a witch. If I was, I am not all these good folk would want to be with me. I a am A Djinn. I guess your an elf?"

She looks at Ragwort "We fly really good too. Some one told me there was some Pixies who couldn't fly running around here. Are they upset or something?

"Pixies who can't fly?"  Ragwort gives a puzzled look.  "Is that a joke?  A riddle?  Or do you have us mixed up with the Little People.  Brownies and Leprechauns and others, they can't fly either, you know.  Maybe you saw Jacque LeLoot.  He's a Lutin and can't fly.  Or one of those weird winter Gnomes.  You should see them ice skate!  Like they were born to it!  But they can't fly, no."

Amera grins. "I think I heard that some pixie was messing with the Christmas trees but they said the pixie could not fly and I figured it must not be a pixie" she said off handed. She hoped he might know who it is.

"Oh, not us!" Ragwort says, sounding a little hurt.  "I heard about that.  Busy, Human places, so crowded, so many people, you know we don't like those places!  We play among flowers and thickets!"

"Besides," he continues after settling down.  "there was magic there, more than we have.  You can feel it.  Well, we can.  But it's not us.  It's those weird little Gnomes who wear red."

"Well a lot of people call spiders insects and they're arachnids so I guess it would be easy to get confused and think anyone under a foot tall is a pixie and anyone doing magic is a witch... I'm not entirely sure why you think I'm an elf... I mean my ears aren't pointy but maybe I'm wrong about that too... All I know is sometimes when I look in the mirror lately I look strangely pale and my hair is odd." Violet shrugged. "And now..." She looked at the small group. "I might be going slightly insane but it certainly seems more interesting than last week." She frowned thoughtfully.

"So other than the fact that they're graffitiing Christmas trees and can't fly and look enough like pixies or one of the various descriptions of pixies to be mistaken, was there any more descriptive details? I mean what were they writing, if it was something like 'lutins were here' but the person had never heard of a lutin they might assume it was the name rather than the species." Violet had certainly never heard of one... but if the pixie said this Jaque Leloot was one then she supposed they must be similarish. How was that for logic? Taking the word of a pixie... but she could see it, and it spoke to her, so she might as well look for the internal consistency of what may or may not be a delusion.

Mouse sits quietly, listening to the females talk.

When the new one, the sidhe, denies being an elf he looks at her with a doggy grin.  He yips quietly then deliberately winks at her.

She grins at Ragwort "That's what I said. It couldn't be Pixies as the little people who did do it could not fly. I wonder where these red caps are? I mean I was thinking of putting up a grand tree but for kids, so I don't want it messed with by these red caps."

She looks at Violet "You look like an elf to me. But I can see though all the illusions. Like you might be able to soon. What have you seen that is odd?"

"Well I hope it's not red caps, aren't they supposed to dip their hats in fresh blood or something? Gnomes wearing red could be a fashion thing or making a statement, like anti-Christmas gnomes... I'm not sure what they'd have against it specifically but a lot of extremist groups seem to be based around racism or religious intolerance, maybe they're all about the traditional yule or hate fairy lights because they think there should be gnome bells as well?" Violet shrugged. "As for what I've seen that's odd, I'm talking to someone who made a drink appear from thin air, a flying pixie and a dog that just winked at me... not to mention the floating stick, the slightly glowy white skin that none of my friends seem to see or when Mouse grew the size of an elephant. I think I've seen more things this afternoon than the rest of my life put together."

Ragwort looks at Violet.

"Spiders are bugs," he says.  "Creepy hairy bugs."  Pixies never worked well with metaphors.   But on the other hand, being 11 inches tall, he does have a different view about spiders.

But these Gnomes aren't Red Caps.  They just have red caps.  Bushy white beards.  They're not... well, never heard of them being cruel to anyone.  Just weird."

It means something, when  Pixie describes something as "weird".  That doesn't happen often.

"Hmmm, well if they've got red hats and white bushy beards... maybe they're upset that Santa kind of looks like them? I guess unless we find them or we can read their graffiti there's no way to know why they're going after Christmas trees." Violet shrugged, trying to be helpful but not really having a lot of experience to go off.

She looks at Violet "So, you never knew anything about the fairy world before today? That's so sad. I mean it is so fun being a free Djinn. But I did have a few bad centuries."

She looks at Ragwort "What do you mean by weird?

Ragwort scrunches his little face.  Pixies are known to have problems with complicated ideas.  Their life is a constant escape from such things.  In a way, they are quintessentially Fey Faeries; they exist for the joy of existing and do not understand why others don't see things the same way.

"Weird... you know, like they were... Humans.  Not satisfied with things.  Grumbling and scheming, full of wishes unfilled."

Most Fey are far more at ease with "what is" than Humans can be.  That is why, in stories, it is never the Fey getting their wishes granted.

"Scheming, we know, but we don't know what," the Pixie says.  "Do you?"

"How big were they? I mean... if they're over three feet they could BE humans with dwarfism and santa suits or something? Or could someone have spelled them into being that little and they want to go back to being humans?"

Violet sighed there were far too many possibilities running through her head... really they needed to just talk to them. It was like that sometimes though, the stories, the way things got from one place to another... sometimes she could almost see how things would make the best narrative and it just happened that way. Was that a kind of magic? Speaking of which...

"What kind of magic do elves do? I mean, if I'm an elf... like you said... what do I do? Genies making things appear that people want, like snacks and drinks and jewels and money and stuff, makes sense, but what other magic can you do? And can I do that? And how would I keep seeing a human in the mirror for so long?"

Violet stopped herself before more questions could come spilling out. There were so many... including many they probably wouldn't know, like were her parents secretly elves and she somehow hadn't noticed? How could she be an elf if she had human family? Was she a changeling like in those stories?

"They were Scheming? That is odd. When I was a slave, the humans who controlled me were like that but I have never know a fey to be like that." she looks at Violet. "I can conjure simple thing but not thinks like a cell phone or of real value. Well I could conjure a diamond but it would not last. When I got my freedom, I lost some of my power with my bottle"

Mouse stands up suddenly and grows briefly to his full height.  Standing just over five feet at the shoulders, he weighs as much as a prize bull.  After giving Amara a slobbery kiss, he shrinks back down to his normal dog size

He manages, somehow, to look smug.

Violet concentrated, staring at her hand and whispering "Cookie." Nothing seemed to happen. She sighed. "Hmmmm..."

Maybe you could only will things to exist with practice? Or maybe elves didn't do that kind of magic? Or maybe she wasn't really an elf at all and they were just confused? Violet frowned deeply.

Amara glares at Mouse as she makes a towel appear as she wipes off slobber. "Please, as much as I love animals, I hade slobber. she makes a Frisbee appear and throws it.

She looks at Violet "Don't worry, you will learn what your magic is and such. At least you are not stuck in a lamp and made to appear when it is rubbed"

"That's not right," the Pixie says.  "If you're an Elf you should know how to do Elf magic.  Whatever that is.  Must be secret because I've never seen it.  Then again, I've never seen an Elf.  Except in movies.  But you're not a movie Elf, most of those come out at..."

The Pixie stops, stunned, putting together Elves, Movies, Christmas... and the strange little Gnomes they were talking about earlier.

"Holy hopping hot dogs, that's what they are.  Christmas Elves.  They're in every Santa Claus movie, little folks, pointed ears, kinda dressed like Santa Claus.  That's them.  Only, why are they here, and what are they up to?"

"Ooooh staging a rebellion against Santa? Is Santa real?" Violet's face, which had been looking somewhat down about the magic not working, sort of lit up as she asked. "Are there usually Christmas Elves or has someone magicked them out of the movies? Do they really live at the North Pole?"

"I've seen Santa, of course he's real," the Pixie says.  "He shows up in the parade, every year.  But I never saw Christmas Elves in the city before, not a one.  Not a real one, anyway.  Lots of toys.  This is something new.  I wonder what they are up to."


I'm going to start a new thread, skipping over the time, and allowing the characters to regroup.  The new thread is, "At the Stock Exchange"

It's a short time-hop into the future, because while these characters were investigating the Pixies here, the others back at library have found out more about these "Christmas Elves".  They are Nisse, traditional Norwegian creatures.

What's more, whatever the Nisse are up to has some serious consequences, connected to the disappearance of an important Norwegian Troll.

Further, the group at the library has got a good idea of where the Nisse will make their next appearance:  the tree at the New York Stock Exchange.  So they will set a night watch over it, and wait.


The events of "At the Stock Exchange" will assume that characters have been watching over the area, ready to spot the strange little Nisse and catch one, and find out at last what is going on.

This is not mandatory!  The library is not that kind of organization.  They can only ask for help and hope.  If you want to be somewhere else, let me know.

Amara will bid the Pixie good by and say she will see him again soon.

She will lead Mouse and Violet to the Stock Exchange hoping to find something there.