[u][color=Silver][i][h3]The Marblehead Inn and Suites[/h3][/i][/color][/u]O'Braun first spotted the [i]Marblehead[/i] after the Path made a sharp right turn. It was a strange sight - a modern glass skyscraper towering over the woods, glimpsed only through the occasional clearing in the canopy. This would be O'Braun's first visit to the [i]Marblehead[/i], though he knew of it previously. Still, it was one thing to know the mechanics of a place and another thing entirely to see it, reaching up past the treetops, past the clouds, until perspective went crazy trying to account for a line that never stopped. O'Braun felt vertigo - briefly - for the first time in his life. He smiled crazily, briefly laughing at the new feeling, and continued along the Path.

The lobby of the [i]Marblehead[/i] was a solid presence of marble columns and walls, with brass doors and windows lending an air of brief sophistication. It was all dated, but in a tasteful, restored-antique manner. O'Braun barely noticed as he strode to the front desk. The clerk glanced up, and then promptly glanced back down, hurriedly scribbling something on a form. O'Braun's dragonfly-like wings twitched in irritation.

"Hello," the clerk said, looking up at last. "Welcome to the Marblehead Inn and Suites, my name is Pat."
"O'Braun," O'Braun said.
"Checking in?"
"Yes."
"And have you stayed with us before?"
"No - and you needn't ask the next question. I've got a secret, but not for your ears. I'll only tell it to the night manager," O'Braun said.

Pat harumphed and picked up an antique phone. While it was ringing, the clerk said, "I'll need to wake him. Are you sure you wouldn't rather-"
"No."

A silence fell, marked only by the muted conversation of a human bellhop with her fay master. Somewhere, an elevator dinged. At last, Pat hung up the phone, and Rock emerged from a door behind the front desk. O'Braun felt certain that he'd been very far away before now; something about the [i]Marblehead[/i] screamed secret non-euclidean tunnels to him. It was just that kind of place.

Rock asked, "What's your secret? Mind, if it's not good, you'll work for me. Make it good enough, and you stay for free."
O'Braun smiled. "Then I'm glad my secret is both good and impressive."
"Oh? Tell me," Rock said.

O'Braun cupped his hand to Rock's ear. Rock almost rolled his eyes; very few secrets were worth this much fanfare.

Then O'Braun told Rock his secret.

"Give him a platinum token," Rock said.
"A plat- of course, sir." Pat grabbed a keycard-sized rectangle of enchanted platinum.
"O'Braun, is it?" Rock asked.
"Yes," O'Braun said, smiling.
"You're welcome at the [i]Marblehead[/i] for life. Don't lose your token - it will take you into any unoccupied guest room. Or floor, for that matter. It will also guide you back here, not that you'll need that particular aspect, I'm sure."
"Thank you," O'Braun said.
"Very pleased to meet you. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."
[center]~o~0~o~[/center]
[u][color=MediumSpringGreen][i][h3]Finn's[/h3][/i][/color][/u]The bar was busy with a multi-specied crowd as usual. The Path this dawn was an asphalt road, meandering up and down hills on one side of the boom town, and into cold snow on the other. A confused pair of human tourists, arguing over a holographic map, burst through the front door. Fairies shied away from the gadget - it was mostly plastic, but there was definitely iron in there somewhere. The couple had yet to look up, apparently oblivious to the strange aliens around them.

"Humans," Finnegan said from behind the bar. "Look at them. All the same; they barely even realize they're somewhere else until its too late. Why does the Path always deposit them on my doorstep?"
"Because, without us, this place would have fallen apart decades ago," a voice piped up from under the bar.
"Helen, my dear, yours is the sole exception of an addled species."
"There," Helen said, standing up from the soda dispenser. "It occurs to me that you could just bless the damn thing to not break again," she said.
"And waste your talents," Finnegan mumbled. He was still watching the tourists, who had finally paused long enough in their bickering to look up.

"Wait. Where are-" the man started.
"Welcome to [i]Finn's[/i]!" Finnegan roared over the general hubbub, flying out from behind the bar. "Name's Finnegan, and I own the joint. Can I interest you in some pomegranate seeds to start?"

Helen rolled her eyes.

"Helen." She turned to the Iscandarian at the end of the bar. Vergilius was sitting in front of an empty glass. He was one of the few regular Iscandarians left at Finn's; ever since the planet Faerie had disappeared, fewer and fewer of the species were walking the Path. His voice had a way of cutting through the general clamoring, despite the soft, calm tone. It reminded her of a fairy glamour, almost.

"More water, Virg?"
"I would find it agreeable. And have we not spoken about your use of my proper name?"
"Sure. And the moment you get something other than water is when I'll use it."
"Then you will never use it."
"Your loss."

The banter was familiar, comfortable. Between Vergilius' long life and Helen's near-immortality* (part of her deal with Finnegan's predecessor, in exchange for her services so long as she was youthful), they'd talked to each other on-and-off for a few centuries.  Vergilius was something of an oddity, even for an Iscandarian. While the aliens had always been able to sense the presence of the Path, they tended to shun it, not trusting its feral nature. Vergilius, however, had entered the Path some time before the end of the Dragon War. Time dilation and Queen Titania's favor had preserved him. Rumor had it that he was the last one to leave the Planet Faerie before it had disappeared. His departure from the planet was interesting enough in itself - aliens rarely saw the Planet Faerie and left it to tell the tale.

"I am restless," Vergilius said over his fresh water.
"You're always restless," Helen responded.
"This is different. This is like the war."
"Not another war story. You and your fire-breathing monsters."
"That is an inaccurate caricature," he said, and held up his hand to forestall Helen's comeback. "I am considering leaving."
"Leaving Finn's?"
"A friend has asked me to do so."
Helen's eyebrows shot up. "You have other friends?" Vergilius glanced in her direction. It was the closest he came to a glare. "Sorry, Virg. Go on."
"He is concerned about recent developments. The severance of the Planet Faerie has separated him from his love, and he means to get her back. I am restless. I may assist him."
"Aww, that's sweet. You should do it. Be good for you to get out once in a while," Helen said.
"I believe you are overdue for getting out, also," Vergilius said, and sipped some of his water.
"Helen!" Finnegan called. "A feast for my guests. Eat something, friends, and stay as long as I like." He had his hands clasped around the shoulders of the hapless tourists.
"Of course, Finn. Coming right up!"

[center]~o~0~o~[/center]
[@WilsonTurner]
[color=crimson][u][b]Huenster System, Hocklyn Home System[/b][/u][/color]
June shivered. There were few places on the Hocklyn home planet that the Path deigned to approach, and even here she could feel the first isolated shiver of faint radiation. This wasn't a pleasant place; she was in a hollow crater of crystals, fractal spikes all the way down. The Path had been a winding, twisting affair, most of it underground, and the first light she'd seen was that of the Hocklyn's sky. The locals used, of all things, radiation to [i]see[/i]. It was not a pleasant place for a fay.

With a sigh, June folded her skin-and-bone wings behind her, groped in her belt, and came up with a vial of silvery-white liquid. It faintly sparkled with enchantment. She downed it in one gulp, shivering at the touch of the radium. All at once, her glamours fell away, revealing a plain-looking fay with moth-like, pearl-colored wings. Suddenly blind to the aetherfield, she turned back to the cave. It looked perfectly ordinary, and she panicked for a moment; of course it would look ordinary, it was [i]supposed[/i] to. She couldn't help but feel isolated.

Right. On to business. Lady Ruby wanted a brief scout's report on culture and strength, and if the Hocklyn's fit their reputation, she was authorized to make an overture. Not that she was following orders, of course, she was just obeying - no, [i]choosing[/i], to do what Lady Ruby had asked of her, the quickest, most silent of the House. The fact that Lady Ruby had personally asked her to do it wasn't important. And the deal that she'd struck with Lady Ruby [i]was[/i] satisfactory; June [i]liked[/i] her wings. Even if they were a bit too flimsy for her tastes.

With another sigh, she struggled to cram her body into the skintight stealth suit. It was a frustratingly iron-filled mechanical thing, deposited at the cave entrance by a courier only an hour ago. Supposedly it would shield her from light and radiation-based detection, but a look at the decaying thing made her doubt it. If nothing else, maybe she'd look less foreign?

[hr][sup]*Helen was offered "optional" revitalization treatments every decade or so; the treatments took a lot out of the fairy that provided them, but they could never fully reverse the aging process.[/sup]