It's an extremely cold December afternoon, and the girl with an eyepatch is very grateful for the warmth of Starbucks. What she's not very grateful for is the huge queue. Why is there a huge queue?
"Research old non-Disney fairy superstitions. But on the basics, an iron is a good fairy repellent and having a iron ring is a good way to spot a disguised fairy. I doubt you'll get targeted again, but that is useful in case you see someone at a party and they look off. The less humanoid fairies don't like salt. ...I really don't have other easy and generalized advice than that. These days it's nigh impossible to keep your name hidden. ...Leave a plate of milk out to check and see if your house has brownies? They are chill."
"Some fae can steal your name and turn you into their vassal. Some can steal your identity. A bunch of stuff. Some might pay you for it."
Yeah, convinced her to come to my room and explain the situation. Got her out safely just minutes ago.
Okay, that's good at least. And you're sure the other fairies won't be mad?
They looked a bit mad at first, but then a bit chill... I won't be able to pull this off again, I don't think.
I see. I'm—not sure there's anything to be done about it. Or, at least, not yet.
Yeah. The way I've been conceptualising it has been... sort of like strokes or accidents? They're not extremely common and they happen and for now there's nothing I can do about them.
Way less eventful. I have a book about old folk tales and Irish songs that I've been reading.