The smog in the garden feels unusually dense. It has taken on an almost milky, gelatinous quality.
The damp, fishy air sticks to the visitors. Sparse ivy winds around the ancient stone wall, its bare roots clinging desperately to it.
Flutterpage: This right here, Miss, is the Fog Lady's house! As you can tell, it is a very big, big house, not like mine. Mine is small, but very high up!
Tooth Fairy: Steep, tilted roofs, sash windows, it's very Victorian.
Flutterpage: Hmm?
Flutterpage: Oh, no, her name ain't Victoria, Miss. At least, I don't think so.
Tooth Fairy: No, no. I mean Victorian architecture is a kind of style of house. I'm saying this house must have a long history.
Flutterpage: Oh. Too right about that, Miss. It's been here for ages!
Flutterpage: Come along then. I'll take you in.
Flutterpage doesn't knock, nor does she touch anything resembling a doorbell. She simply leads Tooth Fairy straight to the garden gate.
Vines Carbuncle: Squeak! Squeak!
Several Carbuncles peek out from among the vines before quickly retreating, their eyes still locked on the visitors.
Tooth Fairy: Ah! Are these her critters?
Flutterpage: You lot are hungry today, ain't you?
From the folds of her oversized frock, Flutterpage pulls out a jar filled with snails.
Flutterpage: They ain't for you! They're for the lady of the house. Now please let me and Ms. Witch Doctor through.
Vines Carbuncle: Squeak!
The Carbuncles refuse their entry, shooting out a few tendrils to form a blockade.
Flutterpage: Sorry, Ms. Witch Doctor, they was much friendlier before.
Tooth Fairy: You've been here before?
Flutterpage: Yep, they always let me in straight away. No clue what set them off this time.
Flutterpage stands on her tiptoes, planning to hop over the barrier, but after a quick glance at Tooth Fairy, she abandons the idea.
Flutterpage: I don't rightly know what to do.
Flutterpage: I'd try callin' her, but it won't do much good. Even if she heard me, she won't come out.
Tooth Fairy: You're saying she never leaves her house?
Flutterpage: Not that I ever seen.
Tooth Fairy: Do other people visit her?
Flutterpage: Hmm ... No.
Tooth Fairy: But you visit her often?
Flutterpage: She likes when I bring her snails. You think she eats them?
Flutterpage: All I know is I gave her snails, and then she asked me to stay round her house for a while.
Flutterpage: When she's not in a sour mood, she even teaches me some words, for arcane skills. But if she is sour, then all she does is hand me some books, and I can't even read most of them.
Flutterpage: Don't go askin' her too many "whys." If you do, she says "get out," and you got to go.
Flutterpage: So far, the longest I stayed was a whole afternoon!
Tooth Fairy: I see.
Tooth Fairy surveys the old mansion. To her, it looks more like a small castle than a house. She decides not to disturb the formidable witch dwelling within it.
Tooth Fairy: Maybe I'm the reason they aren't letting you in. I'll just stay back here.
Flutterpage: Alright then. Stay there, and I'll tell her about you, Miss.
The Carbuncles lower their guard as Tooth Fairy retreats. The strange plants and critters in the garden clear the way for Flutterpage as she makes her way down the path.
Flutterpage raises the snail jar high above her head, as if presenting some kind of token.
Flutterpage: Miss!
Flutterpage: Do you hear me? Wakey-wakey!
*creak*
The lock clatters heavily, and the hinges on the old oak door give a mournful groan.
Flutterpage: Hmm.
Fog Hag: ...
Tooth Fairy: ...!
Flutterpage: Here you go, Miss, a fresh batch of snails!
She doesn't respond. The witch's stare is fixed on the unfamiliar woman by the garden entrance.
Fog Hag: ...
Fog Hag: Who is this?
Flutterpage: Hmm, well, I don't know her name, but she's a witch doctor.
Flutterpage: She came here in a car, with a flyer of the Uluru Qualifiers. So I think she's here for the Ulu—
Fog Hag: Mm?
Flutterpage: Oh, I forgot that you don't like the word.
Tooth Fairy: Hello, Miss. I'm here investigating the source of the black fog. You can call me Tooth Fairy.
Fog Hag: Go away.
Flutterpage: But why? I ain't ask too many "whys," Miss, did I? That was only my first one today.
Flutterpage: Oh.
She realizes something.
Flutterpage: So, I can't come in at all? You promised you'd help me practice my arcane skill.
Fog Hag: Then you better not let me catch you saying "Uluru" ever again!
The witch anxiously snatches the snail jar from the girl's hand and closes the door.
*slam*
The door closes.
Flutterpage: Awh ...
Flutterpage: Oh, she left me a book. Look, it's got a Carbuncle on it.
Tooth Fairy: Come here, Flutterpage. Are you alright?
Flutterpage: I thought I could play at her house today.
Tooth Fairy: Would you like to do something else?
Flutterpage: Like what?
Tooth Fairy: Like, see your new friend, Mr. Hat?
Flutterpage: Mr. Hat?
Brimley: Ms. Flutterpage, I'll ask you to not wear me on your head.
Brimley: I know I can fly, but that doesn't mean you can treat me like a kite. Besides, I'm due to begin my patrol. I need to—
Brimley: WHOAAA!
A gust of wind blows Brimley into the hallway, spurring Flutterpage to give chase.
Mr. Fog: That gives us some time for business. First of all, allow me to express my respect for your adventurous spirit.
Mr. Fog: A haunted hag mansion whose owner feeds on snails? To visit her so quickly on your own initiative was a bold move, Ms. Tooth Fairy!
He now has no choice but to admit the existence of the witch.
Mr. Fog: Here's your tea. No sugar, just as you asked.
And, of course, he has kept the promised Indian tea at the forefront of his mind.
Tooth Fairy: The connection between this lady and the black fog will require further confirmation. However, judging from our encounter, she doesn't seem to have much concern for the world outside her home.
Tooth Fairy: I also noted that the word "Uluru" seemed to irritate her.
Mr. Fog: Uluru? As in the Uluru Games? Not a fan, I take it.
Mr. Fog: It's certainly odd for an arcanist to have a negative impression of the Games, though not unprecedented.
Mr. Fog: Which reminds me of this letter. I suspect our Fog Lady might be glad to hear it.
Mr. Fog places a voiced letter between the two of them. The paper swiftly transforms into a wide mouth.
Voiced Letter: "Letter from the St. Pavlov Foundation Uluru Games Organizing Committee to the Uluru London Qualifiers Organizing Committee."
Voiced Letter: " ... copied to the Office of the London Atmospheric Clean-up Committee ..."
Voiced Letter: "Due to the rapid deterioration of air quality in London and the presence of an unidentified arcane-related tuberculosis outbreak ..."
Voiced Letter: " ... we regretfully have decided that the Uluru London Qualifiers will be canceled until further notice to protect the health of competitors and spectators."
Voiced Letter: "Competitors still wishing to participate are encouraged to register for the qualifiers in Paris or other cities."
The paper folds itself up and drops back onto the table. Mr. Fog sighs.
Mr. Fog: I received this shortly after submitting my report concerning the events on Cross Street.
Tooth Fairy: They're right. It's better for everyone's health.
Mr. Fog: No objections here, but it's certain to cause a stir!
Mr. Fog: Ms. Tooth Fairy, you saw how passionate the citizens were about this event, what it means to them. They'll eat us alive when we announce this.
Mr. Fog: So much more so that it's canceled because of air quality. The Firm will not be pleased, I can assure you.
Mr. Fog: This great city will be the laughingstock of Europe, if not the entire world!
Mr. Fog: Unless ... Unless there's a way to clean the air in London. Perhaps then I might convince the Foundation to reconsider.
Tooth Fairy: Mr. Fog, there's only three weeks left before the qualifiers.
Tooth Fairy: It's a serious effort just to address the smog over London, let alone this new black fog and the disease that has come with it.
Mr. Fog: Three weeks. One for making plans, one for enacting said plans, and still one more for the final procedures.
He slumps into his chair with his arms crossed and glares furiously at the voiced letter on the desk.
Tooth Fairy: What are you doing now, Mr. Fog?
Mr. Fog: Thinking, Ms. Tooth Fairy, is how I make the plans.
Brimley, fleeing pursuit, eventually finds his way back.
Brimley: Forgive me for interrupting, Arthur, but I had to call off my patrol earlier than expected. I'm afraid I need a favor of you, Ms. Tooth Fairy.
Tooth Fairy: Hmm?
Brimley: Would you mind helping us with some of the sick?
Brimley: After that black fog rolled through, patients with this "tuber-coal-sis" variant seem to be multiplying as fast as hares in the Great Artesian Basin!
