Mmmmmmm...breakfast

[fredless]

Who: Fred and ...[your name here]
What: Fred's Group Loss
When: Morning of the 15th
Where: Kitchen
Rating: PG 13 at most

For once she is isolated from her sisters, drawn to the inherently busier floors below. There is simply more to experience here. That much more to know. The hem of her peach-hued gown drifts behind her with every step, hair loosened and curling around her shoulders. Ribbons are twined throughout the tresses, a slightly more delicate shade than her dress.

Fred moves to make tea, feet briefly lifting from the floor as she reaches for a china cup from one of the cabinets. Steaming water is soon poured over fragrant leaves.

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[thetrudger]

It briefly runs through his mind that perhaps the other two are single, but, like the good guy he really is, he wipes it out of his brain. Losses are bad.

"It will be difficult to keep them in one spot. I'm afraid they'll be all over everyone."

He walks toward Fred, too. "Please don't leave, Fred."

[fredless]

Again, her brow knits slightly. It is the only thing that mars an otherwise serene expression. Fred simply does not understand.

"You would have us go against our natures?"

She looks between them both, disappointment evident. And perhaps something else.

"We must find someone that is equipped." Angel was not here, after all. "We shall have to continue searching, it seems." She drifts around them and through the door, gown whispering. After a moment of hesitation Fred turns slightly, her hand casting an arch towards the doorway. A few quietly said words follow.

Then she is gone.

[demonologist]

Wes' frown is much more prominent. He doesn't like the sound of what Fred's proposing. He tries to intercept her, realising too late that perhaps he should have tried a more direct approach and pulled her into a romantic kiss or something along those lines. But her being on a loss had made him hesitate to take such liberties.

"Fred, wait-" Wes tries to make a grab for her hand again but finds himself bumping headfirst into a magical forcefield. There's a brief flash of blue light and he finds himself knocked back a few feet. It stings a bit, like a mild electric shock.

[thetrudger]

"Fred-"

And then he watches as Wes flies back. He hurries to the man's side, offering a hand.

"Wesley, are you all right?!"

[demonologist]

Wes barely notices the help at first, shrugging it off and trying to get through the barrier again. The same result. So he picks up a chair and throws it at the open doorway. It flies through without obstruction.

Then he sighs, turning to Geoffrey.

"You try it."

[thetrudger]

Geoff gives him a look. He just watched him get knocked backwards! But he decides that he won't know if he doesn't try.

He steps forward, cringing as he gets closer. When he reaches it, the same result.

"Dammit. What the hell is that?"

[demonologist]

"It's a magical spell. Designed to prevent us from leaving the kitchen. Us, specifically." Wes' expression is grim. He starts to mutter something under his breath, his hands begin to glow with what looks like balls of flame. He directs them at the invisible barrier but the energy just dissipates.

"Damn it!" He'd known it probably wouldn't work, his command of sorcery just isn't strong enough, but it had been worth a shot.

"I believe I know what she is. This spell, the floating, the outfit, the fact that she has two sisters who share their bed with those paying their transactional debts. She has to be a Transuding Fury."

[thetrudger]

Geoff listens carefully, his expression becoming more and more confused.

"A Trans-what? What did you...your hands! And she's...? And we're...trapped? Why would she...?"

[demonologist]

"A Transuding Fury. A-- look it doesn't matter. The castle has turned her into someone else, a person who commands very powerful magic. I tried to break down the barrier with my own magic, but I'm...my talent isn't sorcery."

He turns away from the door, exasperation still very high.

"Yes, we're trapped. She locked us in because we displeased her and she didn't want us interfering with whatever she wants to do."

Which could very well involve engaging in intimate acts with other men. Wes moves to slump in one of the chairs still available.

[thetrudger]

Geoffrey watches him sympathetically. A desperate lover, torn from his Venus. It was all rather romantic, really. He'd be tempted to put it to paper if it weren't for him being trapped and Fred loose about the castle telling men how equipped they were.

"How long do you think we'll be trapped in here?"

[demonologist]

"I don't know. I'm sorry. It could be anything from a few hours to several days if we can't get her to take it down or someone with enough power to reverse it."

Wes wishes for a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses. He knows he probably shouldn't default to drinking, but he's more rattled than he'd care to admit. He starts to pour himself a glass.

[thetrudger]

The full weight of that hits Geoff. Days. He could be stuck in here for days. He watches him wish up the whiskey and immediately reaches for a glass. Alcohol was how he dealt with everything else. Why not now?

He holds out his glass for Wes. "I don't want you to think badly of me. I believe you to be a good man. So, I would appreciate the chance to explain myself."

[demonologist]

Wes eyes him for a moment, wondering just what there is between him and Fred which needs explaining. He fills Chaucer's glass, however, and nods. After all, it would appear that Geoffrey needs to get this, whatever this is, off of his chest.

"Go on."

[thetrudger]

He takes a swig and sighs.

"We met during Christmas. Of course you know the castle forces its residents to kiss one another. We both got sprinkled with that fairy dust and we kissed. I must admit that I found myself attracted to her. We spoke once briefly after that.

Just a few minutes ago, I thought she was reciprocating. I did not realize it was a loss, but I'm certain I would have eventually. I just want you to know it wasn't my intention to take advantage of her."

Because that was what was making his skin crawl. The thought that maybe he wouldn't have ever realized it, that he might have taken advantage of her during a loss.

[demonologist]

Wes listens, taking a deep swallow of the whiskey while he does.

It's not that surprising, both he and Fred kissed people they wouldn't have normally. But still, it adds context to Geoffrey's behaviour and subsequent mortification - which seemed genuine. He'd thought Fred was single, had been attracted, and then had mistakenly thought she was making advances. It makes sense.
But there's still a feeling that perhaps this could have all been avoided if more people knew about them. About the fact that they were together.

"I believe you. It's not your fault, you didn't know. Fred and I don't...well, we don't advertise that we're a couple. It's private. But I can see how that might cause problems when the castle makes us act a certain way."

[thetrudger]

Chaucer breathes a sigh of relief, his worries washing away from him. The only trouble was speaking to Fred. How would he ever speak to Fred again?

"I see. Thank you for your understanding. I know... it must have looked very bad, but really, nothing happened."

[demonologist]

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd hate to have to challenge you to a duel." He's only teasing, trying to lighten up the mood. He's still extremely worried about what Fred could get up to on her own, but there's not much he can do right now but sit and wait for someone to free them or for the spell to wear off. Speaking of which, he probably ought to be informing his friends of Fred's loss. He pulls out his journal and sends out an alert. Then takes another generous swig from his drink.

[thetrudger]

He laughs, relief surging through him.
"I would be doomed, from what I've seen."

He grows quiet as he watches Wesley alert his friends. "Good idea. Surely the others will look out for her until we are released."

[demonologist]

"Well, I've been trained in combat. But if it was a duel of poetry, you might win rather handily."

Wes knocks back his drink and then pours himself another.

"That's what I'm hoping." He rubs at his temple for a moment, trying to ease what looks to be a tension headache coming on.

[thetrudger]

He laughs and nods. They may not be in the best of circumstances, but he was curious to get to know Wesley.

"Is it known in your world that magic is present? Or do you keep it a secret?"

[demonologist]

"It's not widely known, no. People practice the arcane arts, but for the most part, it's a secret." He admitted, toying with his glass. "I think because magic is not something to be trifled with. There are dangers involved."

[thetrudger]

He hummed in agreement, letting the alcohol slide around in his glass.

"Does Fred usually have magic? Or is it only because of her current loss?"

[demonologist]

"Not usually. At least not in the traditional and literal sense." He stared down at his drink and then took a deep swallow. Fred did have a sort of magic, a way of enchanting those who knew her. Making them love her and want to be around her. It had happened before and most likely it would happen again. It wasn't something he wanted to stifle, even if at times it made him feel insecure. "Her magical powers right now are a result of being a Fury."