Always wanted to post this, but wanted some prior approval. Liner notes afterwards. I hate to say it, but I'd *really* appreciate it if you read this all before reacting to Miller.
Where'd your pants end up last night?
Well, it's kind of complicated, you see. I was in Petaluma as a reporter from KBOY covering a rash of house burglaries when I heard about a highrise fire in Alameda. I was already in the van and driving 95 on the 101 when I remembered that the KGAL affiliate there has three women covering local news and hasn't hired a guy to do field work since they got hit with a discrimination suit in '94.
You ever try to change into a skirt, blouse, suit jacket and heels without cruise control? Last I heard, I think my khakis smacked some jogger in the face outside of San Rafael. Lucky my van doesn't have a news emblem (or really even a legible license plate) on it, or the station might have gotten a call.
(And on the other other hand, having only my skirt to wear when I stopped at a great bar outside of Oakland was actually pretty useful - she *was* a lovely lass, and so was I.)
What happened to you that you can't forgive?
Well, it's kind of complicated, you see. I was working the streets of Marin City plucking all the roses of fear in the wake of the rapist who'd already struck three times - but that meant a lot of time in Marin, and it wasn't really worthwhile to drive all the way back to the Hold every night. It turned out, I found a bed above a really fun bar run by this hot little number who was back from Los Angeles trying to make it as an actor. (Turns out that looking good and knowing every mixed drink doesn't get you far in Hollywood - duh.) So anyway, he and I hook up while I'm out there, and I tell him I'll call him.
THEN, a week later, I hear from a bouncer that the SOB was positive and knew it! Dumbass apparently doesn't know that suppressing the symptoms doesn't actually cure anything. And sure, I wasn't in danger - but the fact that the dumb bastard just decided it was HIS right to put everyone he screws in the line of fire, I couldn't take.
A week later, I did a series of stories on AIDS in the city - and I just happened to have an anonymous informat drop his name. Last I heard, his bar was firebombed and he was on the run from mortal authorities. Let him choke on it.
Were you at the party in which the engagement was announced two months ago? What do you feel about it?
Well, it's kind of complicated, you see. I'd actually been in the field for two days, working a disappearance in Las Trampas, when I finally got word of the big to-do back in the Hold that night. So I'm running back to the van, humming Here Comes The Bride ('cause it'd been on my radar as a potential for two weeks) when I see I have a flat - and it's my spare. (On the other hand, it was a lot better than getting eaten by that bear in the forest.) So I'm scratching my head wondering who I know in Danville who might owe me a tire, when a blonde-headed Sir Lance-A-Hot drives up in a Jeep and offers his spare. I didn't have any cash left on me (bribes to park rangers to give up witness names are expensive), but it turned out we worked out another way for me to thank him.
So three hours later, I got back to the Hold after they'd closed the doors and tightened security with all the hoity-toities in the same room. I know an alternate way in, but it puts you into the exhaust vent for the main kitchen. I snagged an apron, picked up a tray of snacks and slipped into the hall. Duck behind Balor, ditch the apron and the face of the help, and slip in behind Squick just two seconds before the Autumn Court was introduced.
How do I feel about the engagement? Well, the U.S. is pulling out of Iraq and moving towards pulling out of Afghanistan, so it's only to be expected. The Syrian thing might mean the Winter Court isn't happy, though. We'll see what the Supreme Court says about health care for the first omen.
Why do you think Squick has a soft spot for children?
Well, it's kind of- nah, actually, it's not complicated. He used to be an volunteer ice cream truck driver for his local junior high fundraising committee, and his kids ran out to meet him every day at 12:30 when he pulled in front of the school. But one day, he pulled in front and nobody came out. He stayed in front of the school for a half hour, but then he parked the truck and found out that his two kids hadn't been seen all day, and since they walked to school, that news was five hours old. So he organized all the teachers in the school, and they searched the grounds and the woods nearby. They didn't find anything. He didn't sleep for three days, searching the town and calling any cop he could find and begging for help.
When he got word that his kids had been found in the next town over, he actually stole a car and sped the entire way there. Almost wrapped himself around a tree, but he got there. Turns out the kids had gotten lost in the forest, come out the other side, and just kept walking thinking they'd eventually bump into the main road. The cops in this neighboring town didn't even know they were missing, but they came in and asked the sergeant on duty to call.
So he's getting out of his car, and the kids are on the steps of the local courthouse. He sees them, waves to them, and then a bus pulls up between them.
And then the Fae who'd been chasing Squick ever since he nearly hit that tree (and did give the sacred circle around it quite the lawn job) caught up with him, and took him away. And what I haven't told you yet was that this was 1955.
While Squick was away for his one week in Arcadia, his fetch ruined the lives of his kids, who committed suicide a few years later. The fetch was hounded out of town, and it's possible that the Hunt caught up with him - but maybe not. Squick emerges from the Verge to find everything he knew was gone and that his kids had died four decades ago. I'm not sure his mind handled that well. He laughs a bit too often, and he's a little too willing to listen to reports of rogue Fae who need killing.
But on the other hand, I'm not sure I've ever seen him without some candy to give if he sees a lonely and frightened kid.
Oh, man - it *was* complicated, really. My bad.
Okay, here's some commentary on my answers. Basically, I started off thinking about the pants question, wondered if Miller could actually completely change his sex entirely (turns out he can, for 1 Glamour). I was already inclined for him to be at least into casual bar pickups (as it's the other way of constantly running away, alongside being in different physical locations). He might have (and certainly has in the past) both gone cruising as a man wearing women's clothing and as a properly-clothed woman. Miller is enough of an abstract theoretician as far as how he perceives the world that he'd certainly not be closed-minded as to who he partnered with and how. I don't want it to be a CONSTANT thing with him - but he's interested in mortals enough and around them enough that he'll usually tie his memories to some sexual encounter.
...plucking all the roses of fear...
While he works in a very scientifically-based explanation of his world, I do picture him being a little artistic in his fearmongering, especially as it's such a vivid emotion.
Last I heard, his bar was firebombed and he was on the run from mortal authorities. Let him choke on it.
Just enough to define him, not enough to pin you down anywhere.
...'cause it'd been on my radar as a potential for two weeks...
My central in-game function I picture for Miller inside the fae community is as an information broker. He generates tons of his own news on the mortal community, and has an easy time if someone wants to find a fetch or trace some other mortal happening. Miller probably has many contacts in the Hold, and feeds them all information in trade for info about each of the Courts. (He doesn't really monitor the Courtless - they don't fit into either his world view or his information market.)
...I see I have a flat - and it's my spare. (On the other hand, it was a lot better than getting eaten by that bear in the forest.)...
This is the Goblin magic - he instantly guesses which way the bear will go and goes the other way, but he gets a flat when he gets back to his van.
I got back to the Hold after they'd closed the doors and tightened security with all the hoity-toities in the same room.
Improvised description of the Hold, since I'm not sure what it would be like.
Duck behind Balor...
Almost definitely Miller's feelings - Ogres aren't people to talk to, ogres are furniture
...the U.S. is pulling out of Iraq and moving towards pulling out of Afghanistan, so it's only to be expected...
This was mostly to highlight how useless it is to ask Miller to interpret Court politics. He knows them, and fairly well - but he won't be much help if anyone asks him what's going to happen.
Oh, man - it *was* complicated, really. My bad.
Totally knew I wanted to end like that.