2023.11.04 Perusing the Steamy Depths

Perusing the Steamy Depths
Alicia and Co. Find Eirlys and Iolanthe enjoying themselves in the woods, Kieran taking the opportunity to scry further into the Satyr's past
IC Date	2023.11.04
IC Time	Evening
Players	Eirlys, Iolanthe, Alicia, Kieran, Dasia, Sark
Location	County of Lion's Reach - Great Eastern Woods
Spheres	Changeling, Bygone

Eil, for once, is out here alone! This stretch of woods has become a bit of a regular haunt for her, walking and taking it all in and processing her thoughts and eating the pretty flower--okay, maybe that last one is a bit contentious. Last time she tried to graze her, she was caught... so she's a bit wary to do it again! Instead, she decides to do a bit of -climbing- practice in a place that's a bit less dangerous than full on mountain scaling. She's gotta learn how to dig her hooves into the right spot, after all, and so she finds a good and big tree and begins her ascent!

Iolanthe comes along the way. She's singing unashamedly to herself, what sounds like a merry operatic aria. Italian! She is carrying an oversized wicker picnic hamper, using a golf club as a walking stick, and has a chaffinch perched on the top of her head. You know, as one does. They're so much more fashionable than hats. But she does stop and watches someone with hooves trying to climb a tree. After a while, she asks, "Are you after fruit? I don;t think you'll find much worth having up there. Yew berries are risky to browse, you could get poisoned."

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Eirlys rolls Dexterity(2) + Athletics(1) (3 dice) vs 6 for 1 successes. 2 3 +8 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Despite the intial difficulties, Eil slowly, perhaps a bit painfully, digs the sharpness of her hooves in against the tree while her arms do most of the work. She pulls herself up onto the lowest branch, coming to a sit as she's already pantint for breath. That's when she sees, and hears, a visitor! A very pretty one... a very strange one. A tree woman, now that's something!

Eil would shake her head, speaking between breaths. `No, no, I'm not trying to get... berries... just practicing my climbing.` She blinks a few times before focusing entirely on the "woman" before her. `Wait, you're not like... the forest manifested into a woman here to scream at me to 'get off your lawn' or something... right?`

Iolanthe laughs richly. "No, I am not here to tell you off! Believe me, if the tree objected to your climbing, it would not give you a warning. Yew trees are notoriously grumpy. It's one reason why humans associated them with death. Not that humans realise that is what is happening, they're notoriously dense when it comes to conversations with flora." She places her hamper down. "My name, at the moment, is Iolanthe. I often come out here and share a meal with the trees and the squirrels and things. They love cake, squirrels do. Greedy little blighters when it comes to a good date and walnut!"

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Eirlys rolls Dexterity(2) + Athletics(1) (3 dice) vs 6 for 1 successes. 1 +6 6 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Eil lets out a breath, relaxing somewhat. `Okay, good, good, cuz I like this spot.` At the comment of the yews being grumpy, though, her head tilts upwards to stare at the boughs above her with suspicion. `Hm. Death tree... metal! Ohhh yes, those berries would make -great- ingredients for my magic then....` she would say quieter, mostly to herself, before standing with a renewed passion! Balancing on the branch, she would begin to climb to where those precious berries were being held, much more precarious, but by the skin of her teeth she manages to crawl up there within reach of them! `Oh, and uh... I'm Eirlys. Eil for short. Nice to meetcha, your wood's very nice. And those squirrels... they haven't said anything about a black-furred horny thing have they?`

Iolanthe samples the name. "Eirlys. Eiiirrlllyyssss... Eil. I like it. Flows. LIke music, like a stream of mountain water. I approve." She sits down and opens her hamper, apparently unconcerned about the bird on her head. "Well, the flesh of yew berries is edible... if you like gambling. The seeds are terribly toxic, and technically any part of the tree COULD have the poison in it. Including the berry flesh. HUmans plant them in graveyards, and they think them growing on the flesh of the dead makes them poisonous. Nonsense of course!" She takes out a bottle of cava. "When you're done up there, do you fancy a bite to eat? I've got plenty!"

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Eirlys rolls Stamina(3) + Athletics(1) (4 dice) vs 6 for 2 successes. 1 +6 +9 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Iolanthe rolls Glamour vs 7 for 4 successes. 1 6 +7 +7 +8 +9 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Iolanthe rolls Intelligence + Cooking vs 5 for 0 successes. 1 1 3 3 4 6 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

`It's Welsh for snow flower. Probably one of the only things my parents have done that I've liked.` She comments, leaning forwards to take off some of the berry branches to stuff into her bag. Plenty for stuff and/or things! Then, peeling herself away, she glances down below as she realizes she's only completed half the battle. A thought springs into her head as she looks at her dangling legs... the sturdiest part of her. `You know what... screw it. Superhero landing!` Then, with a push off, she comes crashing down to the earth, landing on her feet with a giant THUD. She grimaces a bit, wobbling, but then stands tall, grinning! `HAHAH! Fuck you gravity!` She would shout, triumphantly, before walking over towards Iolanthe. `Noww... how could I turn down free goodies? Unless you're gonna use that plant knowledge to like, paralyze me and then tie me up in vines or something.` Totally normal thing to worry about.

Iolanthe applauds politely at the display of athleticism. "OH, very well done! And no need to use plant knowledge to do that to you, trees do anything I ask them. I'd just have a quick word and it would get all Ents at Isengard round here. Not that I would. It's very gauche." She produces two glasses and pours cave into both, and offers one out. "Now let's see... ah yes. Do you like dolmades? Cheese fritters... got some olives with feta stuffing, some nice anchovy paste on crackers, several chicken legs, and... you know, I think this is ostrich." She lifts up some sliced meats. "Ah well, one eats what one has." She tries the ostrich, cautiously

`Really? Heh, I'm like that but for beasts... they tend to trust what I have to say~` She coos, pausing to look down at her waist, where there's a very curious looking plushie of a creature with no "real" counterpart. Grey and blue and yellow and gold, a two-legged thing with a big pudy belly, much too long neck and arms, and a doggish head tipped with ears that mimic a jester's hat with their bells. Those arms are tipped with ominous looking golden knives that could only marginally serve as fingers. `Except this one. He has a habit of not listening when I want him to.` Still, there was food offered, and she would look over it with a mixture of curiosity and hunger. `Don't know what half those things are, but c'mon, let's try it...` first, she samples the stuffed olives before washing it down eagerly with the drink. `This... this barely even counts as cooking but these are the best dang olives I've ever had. Where did you get them?!`

Iolanthe wiggles fingers at the curious beast. "I do like making new friends! Animals are pretty keen to do what I say, too. Well, nature in general. Not to be wondered at, I am a dryad, so tied very closely to all living things." She takes out a stuffed vine leaf, and consumes some. And blows her cheeks out. "Ooh! That's feisty! Rooster claw chillis are like that. Most are mild, and then you get one that is like eating plutonium." She then tries an olive. "These? I grew them myself. A labour of love. Fortunately, it is possible to grow such things all year round in southern california. I always end up with more than I can possibly use."

The "beast" simply hangs limp like the plushie it looks like, but Eil would remove the strap holding it to her waist and set him up next to them like he's part of the little picnic too. She'd then take one of the meat slices, bring it to his big pudgy belly with that golden zipper cutting down the middle of it... and when she pulls her hand away, the meat would be gone! Only the sound of a zipper indicates anything funky going on. Hearing the talk of "feisty", though, she would take one of the stuffed vine leaves and try one herself. `Feisty eh, I'll see about--okay, yeah, you were right. Drink, drink!` Then she'd chug the rest of that glass! Not like you'd expect anything else to happen with a Satyr. Yes, she is already holding it up for more.

Iolanthe refills the glass and grins. "I love to see someone who knows how to properly enjoy food. I'm working at the Murder of Crows, and while they've been very good at letting me experiment with the menu, I still end up making burgers about eighty per cent of the time. It's a little tedious." She continues to eat, her manners rather delicate. "So, you've not met one of my kind before? Not a surprise, I suppose, but it is a little sad. Time was, we roamed across the land, an every river, cave, and forest had its own nature spirit there, protecting the place from banality. Now we are an endangered species in our own right."

Here in this stretch of the woods, the ones Eil has come to frequent to do EilThings^TM, she's not joined by her Gryphon this time--rather, she sits picnic-style with the woodsy tree woman. They seem to be sampling quite the selection of foods while the Satyr gingerly drinks from the glass. Easy to see where this is going! Hell, even Eil's plush friend is sat there, motionless, like at a child's tea party. Now tipsy enough for the bravery to set in, Eil reaches to sample the questionable Ostrich cold cuts... but finds herself grinning afterwards! `This... doesn't taste like bird at all. Huh. We've finally found the one to defeat chicken!` Now leaning back on her hands, Eil tilts her head at Iolanthe. `I'm... not sure what you mean by your kind. I'm pretty new so there's a lot of things I haven't seen yet. You mean tree people are endangered? But there's so many still... hm. Guess that means I should just enjoy this even more!`

Iolanthe smiles a little sadly. "There are other kinds of dream creatures who resemble trees, in their own way. I mean more specifically, my people. Inanimae, you have called us, though it is a very weird appelation. We are the dreams of nature itself, from the time before humans and their ancestors dreamed enough for kinain to manifest. We were once many. Now, few. Not a surprise. Humans have buggered up nature pretty comprehensively, after all." She takes up a cheese fritter and then finds a little tub of salsa to dip it in. "I know a few others, in various parts of the country. But we're mostly isolated now."

Alicia strides into the woods, her red cloak billowing in the wind. She wondered where Eil went and was pointed in a general direction. So, she wandered out to see what she could find.

`Inanimae. Really? You look quite animate to me! Then again, I do have ~~special eyes~~` She coos, blinking her black-purple-red orbs with a giggle before letting out a sigh. `Dreams nature itself? Metal! I would have thought you'd be a bit more wild and less nice in that case, but I suppose trees are the thing that came up with the strategy of making yummies for animals so they'd spread their seeds out. But uh... I'm sorry you've had to watch this slow motion trainwreck for even longer than I have.` All the while they talk, the plushie had subtly moved position, obscured behind the basket... a limb subsequently snaking up to let a pair of golden claws silently pinch away another piece of food to who knows where!

Iolanthe laughs lightly. "We do have a tendency to sleep for long periods when banality encroaches, so many of us are inanimate. I have slept for centuries at a time, when necessary. And we were wild. But one has to adapt to the society one is in. I last woke up at the start of the nineteenth century, and soon realised that I needed to be civlised to really thrive." Speaking of which, someone else arrives. And someone clearly of rank and grace. Iolanthe rises, and bobs a very genteel curtsey to the arriving sidhe. "Well me, m'lady. Would you care to sit and sup with us? There's plenty!" And she offers it freely to one and all, of course. It is her way.

"Well met, ma'am. And hello, Eil. Wandering off into the dreaming along again, I see?" Alicia (Sealgaira) greets the two. "And I shall not turn down your hospitality." Sealgaira gives Iolanthe a patented Sidhe winning smile. The Sidhe plate gleams in the light, as Sealgaira moves closer to the group. The knight gives Eil a glance, wondering if the Satyr fledge will remember her social graces.

`19th century... exciting time! It's... probably been longer than that since I was last around. Just a gut feeling, but my memory's shot so... might not be very accurate. Woulda been cool to see you when you were more willddd... ah well. Wouldn't have gotten suvch good drink n food now otherwise!` Eil would say, head only giving an exaggerated tilt once Iolanthe started speaking to the Sidhe. That plate being all shiny reminds her of the "angel" of before. Still, not enough to sober her up, so all she manages is to lean forwards onto her knees before uprighting herself enough to hold up her now nearly empty glass in a toast. `Ahhh, my knight in shining armor here to save me from... somethin, probably! But come onnn, you don't need that plate, not while there's so much to enjoy here!`

Iolanthe snorts, somehow making it delicate. "You only need saving from me if you are on a diet. Please do, indulge." she tops off Eil's glass, then produces one, fills it with cava, and extends it to the sidhe. "I am Iolanthe, and it is an honour to meet you." She sits again, and peers in the direction of the plush, suspiciously. Then gets more food out. "Spicy dolmades, cheese fritters, ostrich cuts, some feta stuffed olives. There's lemon cake, anchovy spread on crackers, and all sorts of fine things!" She crunches a fishy cracker. "There's plums, as well. A nod of the head towards an attempt to be healthy. Have some bread!" She produces a sliced bloomer loaf. She certainly knows how to pack a picnic!

Sealgaira nods her head to Iolanthe. "Sealgaira ni Fiona. Alicia Hunter in the Autumn. I couldn't help but hearing Inanimae?" She asks, taking a seat to join the picnic. "Ostrich. Exotic choice." She starts to look through the food. "And Eirlys, you should know that a knight is seldom without her armor. And in the Dreaming? You do realize that the dreaming can be unpredictable."

Green. Everything here is green. Green leaves, green needles, green grasses, green... ok, the flowers and tree trunks get to do other colors, but you know, it's the Dreaming, they could be green too if they wanted, and maybe some of them are! THERE! That myrtle over there! It looks a little jealous, so it totally counts as green. No take-backs, too late, it's green! Just, you know, a really *brown* shade of green. Shut up. Also green is the small bouncing ball of shimmering light that comes *blazing* in from either the east or the west. It's just too fast to really tell, and nobody was paying attention, so we're totally going with that. Like the green myrtle. Just go with it, ok? I mean, look, sir, I'm gonna need you to get ALL the way off my back about which way the ball of shimmering light entered from. It's just not relevant. The dreaming can be unpredictable, didn't you just hear Sealgaira?

Iolanthe nibbles her cracker daintily. "Indeed. Have you heard of the Inanimae? We are decidedly rare these days. And I suppose I should tell you, I am kubera - our word for my mith, as you would phrase it. Dryad, or forest sprite is how the modern world tells it, but it is decidedly inaccurate. I was a goddess, not a sprite. I refuse to be identified as a fizzy drink!" She then laughs merrily, and sips from her glass, as some sort of green ball comes hurtling in. She looks at it in surprise. "Did anybody order a will'o'the wisp? I am sure I would have rememembered if I had!"

Eil nods her thanks, sitting back on her rump before taking another drink. And a handful of multiple foods together! `Ish... all good stuff... believe me! And I haven't even gotten to get all tited up sexily in vines yet...` she says, looking like she's about to give a reply to Sealgaira before her eyes spot that... sparkly ball? Sparkles? Glitter? Fae crack?! `GLITTER BALL! IT'S SO SHINY I WANT TO CRUSH IT!` Indeed, the empty-again glass is thrown aside and she's drunkenly leaping towards the ball like a cat towards a laser pointer. The plush is also in the basket now. When did it get in there? Who knows, but it's totally nothing to worry about.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sealgaira says and then springs up to follow the Satyr. "Eil! Stop. Just stop. You don't even know what that is." She murmurs under her breath. "Is that girl just trying to get killed?" Even though, in all likelihood, this close to the freehold, it's probably not a major concern. However, maybe a healthy fear of the unknown would do Eirlys some good.

The green ball zips around just enough to leave Eirlys ferociously grasping her own hoof by about the third leap, then settles in on top of the Fiona knight's shoulder, making a sound vaguely like a wind chime, but otherwise, being thoroughly un-helpful. At least, to the people already there. From a narrative perspective, it's incredibly helpful, because it has everyone's attention, which means that the whole 'East or West?' question can remain unanswered *despite* a slightly bemused Clurichaun's arrival. Instead, she's on the north side of the junction, leaning idly against an oak tree as she watches all of this, arms crossed over her chest. "Well it's about fuckin' time, now isn't it?" Kieran sighs, "Been following that little shit for three hours. I think." She shifts her attention to Sealgaira, "You wanted to see me, yeah?"

Iolanthe is taken aback by the suddenly hyperactive lady, and the chaffinch atop her head, which had been perching there quite happily, flaps off up to a tree to get away from the nonsense. The dryad takes up another cracker and cromch cromch as she watches the antics. "Is she often like this? One glass of bubbly and she is away! Must be a very cheap date..." And then... there's a Clurichaun. So she waves a hand. "Well met! Do you like ostrich?" Now that is a very specialised way to greet a stranger!

Eil's fervor quickly turns to frustration as the thing continues to elude her grasp. Turning quickly, she's now hunched ovevr and looking quite... feral. Edge of her mouth twitcthing and giving her an expression somewhere between a rabid animal and a manic grin. `Oh NO NO NO... you're MINE GLITTER THING! No more DANCING and PRANCING if I FREEZE YOU, HOW BOUT THAT?!` She raises a hand, the snowy layers of her voile already kicking up with that white and red glamour. Some-thing's- about to get froze, perhaps severely, if some-one- doesn't step in to stop her.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->

Alicia rolls Strength + Brawl vs 7 for 4 successes. 2 2 +7 +8 +9 +10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Alicia rolls Dexterity + Athletics vs 7 for 0 successes. 2 3 4 5 5 5 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Eirlys rolls Dexterity(2) + Athletics(1) (3 dice) vs 7 for 0 successes. 1 5 7 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

There's a smirk on Sealgaira's face as she sees Kee. "Kieran! Fantastic to see you. Showing off, I see." However, Eil is being Eil. And considering how the Seer's wisp is now on the shoulder of her pauldron, Sealgaira isn't in the mood to get frozen. So, the knight decides to tackle Eil, jumping at her to put the Satyr on the ground. "No magic. Now be good. You're an adorable ball of chaos, but Not. Right. Now." The Sidhe gives Eirlys a light kiss. "Are you going to be good?"

Kieran gives the dryad a smile and a wave with the fingers of one hand, but in the same moment she's sighing quietly and, with a snap of the fingers on the other, dismissing the witchlight. "*Kids*..." Then she pushes off from the tree and starts to come closer as the Fiona and Satyr writhe around on the ground as only a Fiona and Satyr can, "Ostrich, eh? Better'n chicken, but you know..." She pauses, visibly considering, "Turkey is, too, and I like Ostrich more than turkey... bigger, beefier bird, yeah? Makes me wonder how tyrannosaur would've tasted. Now *there's* a big bird."

Iolanthe watches the sudden frenzy of action with raised eyebrows. And eats another olive. Because food, yum, and a fight does not stop her from enjoying her sensual pleasures. "Does this happen a lot around here? If it does, I'll bring a cushion next time so I can get properly comfortable for the show." She dabs her mouth with a napkin. "As a rule, I think dinosaurs would have been fairly tasty. Not riddled with antibiotics and pollutants and microplastics like anomals today. I've eaten a few extenict animals, but dinosaurs died out long before my time. Crocodile is surprisingly good, though. Now, if you wanted a taste sensation, you should have tried mammoth. SO good. A lot of fat on a mammoth, so the meat was well marbled. And energy rich." She sighs, and eats more of the ostrich. "But since chickens are evolved from dinosaurs, maybe it really would have tasted like chicken.

Eil's eyes go wide as the Sidhe comes over with the flying tackle, sending them both scrambling to the ground and her working glamour to fizzle. She writhes around for a bit, at least until she's given a kiss, which causes her to freeze. Not -that- kind of freeze, but the momentary staring at Sealgaira freeze. There's no words until, suddenly, she would wrap her arms around the plates Sidhe and go in for a PROPER kiss. Her eyes are closed, intentions clear!

The knight goes from tackle to making out with surprising ease. Sealgaira gives Eil the passion the Satyr wants; which, to be fair, Sealgaira is more than happy to enjoy herself. "Now, come on, let's get back to the group. Kieran is going to do me a favor, okay?" The Sidhe hops up and holds out her hand to straighten out her armor and cloak, making sure everything is just so. Then she makes sure her hair is back into place. "That is the beauty of food grown here in the dreaming. No microplastics. And, if you wonder what dinosaurs tasted like, I am sure we can find some Chimerical dinosaurs somewhere. Though, they probably won't be exactly like the real ones. More like the Jurassic Park dinosaurs."

Kieran nods as she comes over to sit down near Io, "That's a good point... and interesting to know about mammoth, since they're trying to bring them back. I wonder if they're more efficient livestock per square meter, given their size and that they can be raised up in the permafrost instead of needing to clear rainforest. I'm Kieran, by the way," She cocks her head a bit, looking Io over, "I.... *think*... we may have met once before, in the Clock-Market. But it's nice to... re...meet you?" She laughs, then looks back over toward the others, "I swear, I think that's the first time I've seen someone have to smooth out their *plate armour*. Honestly, if she's gonna wear that stuff around the kid, she should invest in getting a Nocker to invent an iron for her... steel... an iron-iron? Iron-Squared? iIron?" She shrugs, "Whatever."

Iolanthe helos herself to some lemon cake, and then starts laying out slices for everyone else. "We did meet there, yes, and it is good to see you once more. Come and join the picnic. THe dolmades are good - and hang on..." She digs out another glass, and fills it with cava for Kieran. "Good job I came prepared. SOmehow, I always end up sharing my snacks." She purses her lips and considers the smooching. "Well, if I knew we were going to be snogging I'd have worn my sexy dress! But seriously, it is very good they are bringing mammoths back. I really loved mammoths. Aside from the meat, theyw ere majestic, and very serious minded. Talking philosophy with a family of mammoths was a soul enriching experience. You don't get the same sort of discussions with most food beasts these days."

Sark clearly had some problems remembering WHERE Sealgaira said she'd meet him for flying lessons, or the young man is just easily distracted (probably a little of both), as he's taken to wandering the path through the forest, gravitating towards the sound of familiar voices. Pretty much meaning he can be seen a good distance off before he gets close. It does mean when he sees the group of four mostly familiar faces, he lifts a hand to wave at all of them and slows down, perhaps making sure he's not interrupting Important Business before he steps closer like the nosy lizard he is. At least he doesn't try to shout a hello to them.

Eil almost looks dejected when the Sidhe gets up off of her, face turning into a frown as she eventually pulls herself up to her feet. Seeing just how... crowded the situation has get... especially with the approaching other, she looks down at her wrist. Her bare wrist. `My... my watch of invisbility tells me it's lesson time. Very important lessons that involve me needing to not be here. Alas!` Then, she walks over, searching around before she spots where the plush had gotten off to. She reaches down, picking up the "innocent" little thing that's definitely not dripping somethint out of his zipper. `Nice to meet you, female Lorax! You are definitely prettier than he was. I'm off to my mentoring things, so noooo need to follow me Sealgaira! Bye byeeeeee....`

The knight smiles as Eil leaves. "Well, aside from the horrible timing, she really is an adorable ball of fur and chaos. I hope she's not lying about going to her mentor . . ." Sealgaira heads back to the group. "She was actually who I wanted you to do a read on, Kee. Something about her, something around her is concerning. For more reasons than her being a Satyr with a high affinity for Winter magic. I'll tell you what I saw when I tried later." Then she spots the Dragon and waves. "Heya, Sark!"

Kieran waves, "Be good, Eil... or at least don't get caught. Maybe next time I see you I'll make you a witchlight to chase around..." The Clurichaun nods to Io, "Well, I don't think the new ones will have that kind of font of stored wisdom for a while, I'm afraid." Sark gets a wave of his own, "Hey, scaley. Long time no see..."

Iolanthe shakes her head. "I try to talk to cows, but they are obsessed with grazing. Never a decent debate." She leans back on her elbows, and looks up at the arrivee. "Well met again, sir. Please do join us. MY dolmades are very spicy today." A food reference, not a euphemism. She watches Eil depart then frowns a little. "If there is something wrong with her, I will gladly help, if there is any way I can. She seems like a very nice young lady.".

Sark smiles brightly at the greetings and all but bounces up to the group, wiggling his fingers at the departing Satyr. Clasping his hands behind his back when he comes to a stop, he bows his head a bit at Kieran and offers, "And same to you, gorgeous. I know someone that misses you a great deal. Well, and your motorcycle." The last is followed with a wink. To Iolanthe, she gets a bit more of a respectable bow of his head, along with, "I dont think we have met, so I apologize if I am interrupting something. I was just hunting Miss Sealgaira down for some flying lessons since I said I would make my self available today at her disposal. I am Sarkesian the Gilded, or just Sark is fine."

"Dame. Dame Sealgaira," the Fiona Knight says to Sark and then looks to Iolanthe. "Well, the night of her dream dance, there were Thallain present, as well as something that was causing others fear. I thought I saw some kind of flame near her. It was concerning. But she's a Satyr who has a strong affinity for Winter. Talk about . . . strange. That plushie, she has? A chimera named Jester who was singularly unhelpful when I tried to find out what was going on. That's all I really have, a feeling that something is going on, something I don't like." Sealgaira puts her hands on her hips. "I don't want to use Dictum on Jester, so I am trying other things first. Kieran casting Omen on her would help, depending. Though, miss Iolanthe, do not feel obligated. After all, I just met you. And so did she. I do have to say, though, you're the first Inanimae I have meet, at least since after I left Arcadia."

Kieran sighs at Sark, and nods. "I know. I just got busy, between work, and technical issues with the album forcing the release to get pushed... I had to re-record like half of it in an actual studio because the fuckwits who were doing the editing had shitty IT and their whole system got nuked... honestly, I'm trying to get caught up with things still. I got Sealgaira's message and thought 'hey, I can knock this out real quick, see what she wants in like 20 minutes', and it took me three freakin' hours to find her because the witchlight was really a little *bitch*light. I'll call her soon, and grovel... like, a lot..." She looks over to the sidhe, quirking an eyebrow. "You want me to soothsay on the Chimera, or the satyr? I mean... it's never a clear prognostication, and no matter how deep it gets... it's always very, very narrow."

Iolanthe looks at the Fiona Knight seriously for a long moment. "I admit, that does sound distressing. But I am also not wholly sure I can assist in any material manner. My kind, our ties are more to the natural world. You are dealing with someone, or something, that is outside our usual sphere of influence. But I am always willing to help in any way I can. If it comes to creation of potion or something of that ilk, call upon me. I guarantee satisfaction." She purses her lips in thought, then her little moment of somber reflection passes. To Sark, she brightens! "We have met before, but some time ago. In the market. Our discussion was enjoyable, and hopefully we can have more." She snags up her cake. "In all honesty, my lady, you are lucky to meet one of us at all, these days. We are a desperately endangered species now. All attempts to perhaps create new ones have come to naught, and every day the humans despoil a grotto, pollute a lake, explode a cave for mining... and another one of us is no more. I am lucky. My own personal anchor that keeps me safe and in the world is safe from such interference. But I cannot assume it always will be. That said... I am happy to be here, and more than willing to answer questions and tell tales of the times before. THat i can recall. My memory has many empty spaces. It is too much for anybody to rember with clarity, all the time." She then rolls onto her front, and cocks her legs upwards, crossed at the ankles, and looks up at Kieran. "You're a musician? Oh I HAVE to hear your work! I find music of all kinds completely enthralling. Come to the Murder of Crows and perform, do say you will!"

Sark offers a nod of his head at the correction, "/Dame/, forgive me." He smiles a little more at Kieran and murmurs, "I dont think any grovelling is necessary, and I did not mention it to pressure you. Just leave her a note sometime so she knows you havent forgotten her. She's afraid you dont like her anymore, though I have attempted to explain to her that fae can be...uneven in application and that does not mean anything bad to anyone." When Iolanthe mentions meeeting him before, it takes Sark a moment before blinking and bouncing on his feet again, "You are right, we did! Im very sorry that skipped my brain..." When Alicia mentions the magic word 'Inanimae', Sark looks a little curious, but at least bites his tongue for the moment. Oh, there's going to be questions later, for sure. At the very least, he's absorbing the details Iolanthe is offering like a sponge.

Sealgaira helps herself to some food while grinning at Sark. "Go ahead," she says, seeing the dragon strain to contain himself. "Ask all the questions you want, Sark. You can cover for me not remembering most of what I knew before."

Kieran seems, if anything, to deflate a little more at Sark's words, and nods, "I just... I promised her I wouldn't tunnel-vision so much, and then went and did it again. I'll dro pher a line as soon as the phone works again." Since, you know, the Dreaming. She does manage a smile at Iolanthe's reaction, though, and nods, "Of course I will. I love the Murder, it's got a great vibe. I didn't know you were affiliated with it... or it with you, I guess."

Iolanthe laughs lightly. "Well, if you are in there in the evenings, chances are you won't see me. I am the cook there these days, so I am usually out the back in the kitchen. I tend bar in the afternoons, when it is usually a bit quiet. I love to cook, so it is a labour of love for me. They don't even need to pay me. What need have I for money? I need no home, I never seem to need to buy anything. I guess I am also a cheap date..." She grins. "SO, if you want to question me on what it is like to be the dream of a tree, please, feel free. I like to tell tales.!

Sark chuckles softly at Alicia's encouragement, scrunching his nose a little before he addresses Iolanthe, "I would love to chat at you sometime to ask you about your previous times awake. You are the first one I've met that was probably still around when I hatched. I dont want to gush questions at you, but I would be happy to invite you to a dinner sometime if you would like that? I can even bring a picnic basket out here somewhere if you prefer meeting in the Dreaming." With that offer made, he steps a little closer to Kieran and reaches out to give her back a light scritch and murmurs, "Stella is like that. She overworries. You are good for her, and I have made sure she understands."

"Look, Kee. Get some flowers from the dreaming, go over there. Give her a passionate kiss, throw her on the bed, and make love for hours straight. Then, after that is all done, you ask for forgiveness. And if that doesn't work, sprinkle in a little Summer. I mean, she knows about dragons and fae, but she's still mortal. It's not like you were in a relationship with a Sidhe and then disappeared," Sealgaira says.

Kieran's eyes narrow at Sealgaira. "I am not using Arts to manipulate my girlfriend." She frowns, shaking her head. "So what exactly are you looking for with this scrying?" "When a gentleman asks me to dinner, I almost always say yes," Iolanthe laughs rather sensually. "And you can jog my memory. It is all in there, but sometimes I need to really work at drawing out memories from when the world was new. It is possible that I met many of your people in the past, I would like to recall that." She nibbles cake. "And you don't need to use art to manipulate a girlfriend. Just learn to work that booty. It's a technique that served me well down the years." Admittedly, she does have the booty to work. It might not be so useful for those of a less... calypygian nature.

Sark pauses a moment when Kieran is advised to 'work that booty', though he murmurs in amusement, "There are several reasons why I should not comment on that AT ALL." Instead he nods at Iolanthe, "Then absolutely I will. I think I have given you my number before, but just in case, if you will let me know how to reach out to you, I will happily set up a picnic and we can chat. It would seem that I am going to be assisting the Baroness in the security of her holdings, so I think that means I will be around a bit more often." With that said, however, he chooses to park his ass on the grass and lean back on his hands, letting that braided hair fall behind him not unlike a tail.

"A fae unwilling to use a little magic on a mortal to help smooth over the relationship issues that have, undoubtedly, been caused by your faerie nature? You really are unseelie," Sealgaira says before looking to Iolanthe. "What about gentlewomen? Asking for myself." The Sidhe smiles and looks over to Sark. "Are you still up for flight practice?"

Kieran looks to Sark with a smirk. A Sark-smirk. A Smairk? Samirk? 'tever it is, she does it. "No you should *not*. And I don't need to manipulate her at all... though I *do* plan to work the booty... mine *and* hers.." She sighs, "I just... I promised her a first listen when it was ready, you know? Before it actually came out. And then all this shit happened and I just... I wanted to get it all finished so I could share it with her, and I fucked up and forgot to, you know, keep her in the loop."

Iolanthe bites her lip in thought. "I do not have a telephone. Or a computer, or anything like that. Leave a note at the Murder of Crows, and I will absolutely be wherever you wish to meet. I am very flexible when it comes to timing." She laughs richly at the knight. "Oh I am available for them, too. I am a multi-denominational hedonist. I mean, when you are in my position, you have to be. If I restrict myself to antics with my own species, I will be celibate for a few more thousand years, I expect!" She really cannot comment on Kieran's predicament, she's never been in that situation, as far as she can recall. But she does have general advice. "In my experience, if someone is upset with you, there is always a way to fix it. Food, sex, apology, and kittens. In some combination. Always worked for me."

Sark smiles up at Sealgaira, "Of course I am. Thats half the reason I like coming out here anyway...I get to stretch my wings and dont worry about who's watching." He pauses, "And I DID talk to Erin. Miranda also suggested we ask Erin for a simpler 'training' rig so in case others want to learn, it is easier for them to hold on as well. My scales can be a little smooth if you dont hold on in the right places." Iolanthe mentions the Murder of Crows and he nods, "Then I will do that!" With that said, while they discuss ideas with Kieran, he lumbers back to his feet and shakes himself violently to scatter the grass, bouncing a few steps back to give the rest of them a little room before allowing his form to unravel into a gold cloud that quickly resettles into scales and claws and wings. The much larger four legged beast again shakes himself out not unlike a dog, and sits up to crane his head towards Alicia, before continuing in much the same voice he was using before, "I have all afternoon to spend, so we can continue until you need to be somewhere.

The knight beams happily at Iolanthe. "Oh, good. Well, we should go to dinner some time. My schedule is slightly hectic, but I am sure I can fit something in this week." Once Sark has transformed into his true self, Sealgaira jumps a bit, excitedly. "I should also ask Erin for some skimpy armor. Just so we can find a painter to do our portrait like some of the old paintings. Actually, they're probably newer painting. Digital art, even. But she'll likely need my measurements so she can make everything fit to me and you. Why don't we do a quick loop, so that Kieran can talk without worrying that you're going to kill her." Is the knight teasing? No idea.

Kieran says, “You know, Sark, there's a difference between a 'training rig' and using a BDSM rig to tie some poor woman to your back, right?" She smirks a bit, shaking her head. "I should go call Stella. I know she's usually busy on the weekends, but... well, if she doesn't pick up, I can always wander back, you know?" She smiles to Iolanthe, "It was really nice to see you again, and I'll come by the Murder hopefully this week, see who I need to talk to about taking the stage for a night."”

Iolanthe beams. "It has been a long time since I have seen anything quite as majestic as this. I am so glad I came this way today! And yes, my lady, just leave details at the club. My, I am going to have to get a social secretary!" Then she perks up. "How is Erin? Not seen her in ages, I really must visit. I also think I need to actually get back to work. I love my job, but it is a job so I have to turn up to do it. I hope you all have a wonderful time flying. I never got the hang of it, I kept blowing myself into walls and things.I do better with my roots on the ground." She rises, stretches langrously, and picks up her golf club walking stick. "Keep the basket and food and things. If there are leftovers, just leave it out for the animals. Try not to end up on the moon flying, I hear it gets awfully dusty up there!"

Off somewhere nearby, there's a crunching of leaves! Then, immediately after, a big FWOMP! It's a bit away from where everyone is, but any investigation would immediately reveal Eil's body, face down, on the forest floor... with a certain plush sitting limply, totally inconspicuously, on her back. There's no need to tell if she's ALIVE or anything if the continued mumbling is anything to go by. An,d for some strange reason, she's... wet? Like she just crawled out of a lake, of course.

Sark lifts a foreclaw to wiggle the fingers at Kieran, with amusement in his voice, "Now, now, I've already made several jokes about being devoured by a dragon this week. You are going to be a bad influence..." before actually winking at her as she makes her leave and moves to scoot off for a moment. The sudden FWUMP of the satyr reappearing is enough for him to crane that big neck around and tilt his head, leveling one big green eye at her and the...plush? On her back, "Is this something I should ask about, or just nod and accept as a thing?" Regardless, he seems agreeable to Alicia's suggestion and murmurs, "I know several cheap novels that would love the inspiration..."

The knight looks to the dragon. "Nope, nope. We should certainly go see what that was all about. Now, people randomly appearing? That happens. Usually with more grace." Sealgaira heads off over to Eirlys. "Eil, darling, are you okay? And how did you get soaking wet?" The Sidhe stands casually, not too terribly concerned. "Jester, did you have anything to do with this?"

The plushie sitting on Eil's back would initially stay still, making Alicia look a lil crazy... but eventually, that too-long neck would audibly crack, moving around until his head hangs forwards and straightens to look up. 'My, so quick to blame who is only here to provide joy, joy! She needed to sober up a bit to keep going, you see, so she jumped into a cold river! If only she could swim better, it would have been a clever ploy....'

Sark rises up onto all fours to slowly lumber after Alicia, craning his head over her shoulder to get a better look. Jester is given a couple of once-overs, rumbling softly, "How curious. I don't think I've ever seen something like you before." He reaches down with his snout to nudge the goat, perhaps judging how much of a wake up she needs.

"This is a chimera, Sark. They come in all shapes and sizes. This one is named Jester, and like the fools of the old courts, he is infuriating sometimes," Sealgaira says. "So, Eirlys jumped in the river, can't swim, so you used your magic and got her here. Does that sum it up, Jester?"

Those bells of his would jingle as his unsettling head rocks around, looking between the gold dragon and the knight. He lets out an echoing chuckle, voice seeming to multiply with each passing second of it before snapping back to the usual deepness. 'Ohhh yes... quite the summary. The magic of reaching down and plucking her out like a rabbit fit for the king's feast from its burrow. By why would she resort to such after departing oh so sorely unless there was something she wished to hide dearly? Or, even more funny, it could mean nothing other than social anxiety!' Then, an arm would snake up to tap that golden muzzle on the snoot with a golden claw of his own. 'Quite some time since I have gotten to see a 'you' too... and I will have you know, there is only one of me. Thanks for the gold scale, by the by, it was a wonderful choice for the make my claws and teeth~' What he means by that, if he's even telling the truth is, well... you know the drill.

Sark mmhmms softly at Alicia's explanation, still mostly fascinated at Jester, "I assumed, but I had not seen one QUITE like you before." Which will probably do wonders for inflating Jester's ego and make him even MORE fun to deal with - for now he says nothing about the comment about the scale. Instead, he tilts his head to watch Eirlys to see what she might need to return to the land of the conscious, "Should we whisper naughty things in her ear until she feels like she is missing out and joins us?"

"Oh, I think she's awake. She just doesn't want to be, I am sure. I'll get some wood, if you could provide the fire, Sark? I have no idea how long it will take her fur to dry out. I would be worried about her getting cold, but . . . I don't think that would be a problem," Sealgaira says, going to get some of the downed branches and such. She's pretty sure that even wet wood will catch with a dragon's breath. "I certainly don't want to cuddle a wet Satyr."

`Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgghehrefsflhghsdehgglhhhh...` is all Eil lets out, shifting only slightly from her comical position. Despite Sealgaira's lack of worry about the cold, Eil -is- shivering now, her nails starting to dig themselves into the ground as she flexes her fingers. Meanwhile, Jester would suddely LEAP up onto Sark's lowered head, nothing more than a tiny, soft thing with little to no weight at all as he sits there. 'Fire, fire! It has been too long, show me the DESTRUCTION! The BURN! Oh, and help out my poor dear too, yes yes~'

Sark rumbles a little at the consensus, looking a little amused as he lumbers into motion, reaching out to grab a couple of dead branches that might not have yet fallen from the nearby trees. With a little effort, he shoves one end of them into the ground so they make a nice little bonfire out in the open (where he's not gonna set the forest on fire) and waits for a moment for Alicia to add her own booty to the pile. Once that is settled, he sucks in a little breath and bends his neck to blow at the base, the scent of sulfur preceeding a stream of brilliant orange and yellow flame that spills around the wood and sticks to it like napalm, helping to get the material to dry out and catch almost immediately, flooding the area with greenage burnt scent as well as the lovely smell of toasting wood.

"OH MY GOD YOU BURNT IOLANTHE! YOU BASTARDS!" Guess who's back. Back again. Kieran's back. Tell a friend. Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back... you poor bastards. As she stops, stunned and alarmed, on the edge of the crossroads, the clurichaun slips her phone back into her pocket and gives Sark an absolutely *horrified* look... for, you know, a moment, before adding a wink.

Not TERRIBLY far off of where Sealgaira steps off to gather some wood for a fire, there is a tree that has been felled... mostly. It's definitely been axe'd from it's roots, but it hasn't been moved aside from falling over and resting on a tree just a few feet over from it, making a triangle of space between the two and the ground. And in that triangle is an odd shimmer, not unlike a heat mirage in the desert. Illusory sands blow from tree to tree, but never spilling out 'into' the forest itself. A shadowy form appears within the sands, taking shape of a humanoid form, until Dasia stumbles out of it. Princess Damawiy Nasrin herself! She's dressed in a sort of mockery of hiking gear. The shorts are too short to provide any protection, the shirt has the sleeves rolled up past her elbows and the bottom tied off to leave her stomache exposed, her starlight-blue hair is pulled up into a lose bun poking out under the back of her wide-brimmed hat. The boots... well, the boots are probably the most sensible thing on her, really, though that heel seems a bit higher than is practical. At least it's thick, and not some stiletto. Wayfare is a bitch. "Oh... hello." There's more than just a Sealgaira, there's a whole bunch of folks gathered here at the crossroads. How... serendipitous.

"Oh, hello, Lady Nasrin. If you can bear with us just a few moments. We're building a fire for Eil, who jumped into a river and is now soaking wet," Sealgaira gives Nasrin a nod of her head and then heads back to Sark. "This is why Jester worries me sometimes," Sealgaira continues, putting the wood on the fire and then going to get Eil. The knight leans down, "Apologies, Master Chimera," she says, picking up Jester with both hands and setting him aside. Then the Fiona goes to pick Eil bodily up and carry her over to the fire. "Dear, I like you too much for you to freeze to death. Next time you need to sober up, try not to jump into the river, okay?" Once that is done, Sealgaira gets Jester and takes him over to Eil. "And Kee. Welcome back."

"Oh, hello, Lady Nasrin. If you can bear with us just a few moments. We're building a fire for Eil, who jumped into a river and is now soaking wet," Sealgaira gives Nasrin a nod of her head and then heads back to Sark. "This is why Jester worries me sometimes," Sealgaira continues, putting the wood on the fire and then going to get Eil to pick her bodily up and carry her over to the fire. "Dear, I like you too much for you to freeze to death. Next time you need to sober up, try not to jump into the river, okay?"

Eil is indeed quite cold to the touch, curling up a bit as she's carried, and especially when she's placed by the fire. There's a few mumbled words, but nothing coherent. As always, she's oddly... cute, like this. Scrunched up ball of black fur and now doubly wet nose. Jester, though, is currently cackling his multi-voiced laugh of terror as he bears front row seats to the burninating. His head would crack over at Kee as she arrived, hanging upside down as if someone had broken his neck, striped tendril-tongue hanging out far too much.b 'Glorious show, goldy! Did you hear, we burned the delightful inanimae! Oh, how much more sweetness have you not yet told me?!'

Sark cranes his head around at Kieran's raised voice and gives her an amused look, "Dont tempt me to see if I can burn your clothes off without touching you, hot stuff." He rumbles a little, bowing his head in greeting to Dasia when she returns with Alicia, then settles down close by the fire to watch Eirlys with a concerned glance, complete with his, er, Jester hat, as goofy as that might make the dragon look at the moment, it seems to be par for the course for him. In fact, the chimera's comments earn just a rumbled, "You are a very curious little thing. It seems fitting that you have attached yourself to Eirlys..."

Kieran snorts, "Yeah yeah, like you could even try..." She meanders over to look down at Eil, "So what's her deal?"

"Would that I knew the Summer arts well enough to help warm her," Nasrin replies, lips pursed as she looks at the cold, wet Satyr. There's always Unleashing, but that seems more dangerous than it's worth. Besides, there is a dragon here, fire and warmth aren't exactly lacking.

"She apparently jumped in a river and Jester got her out. Of course, Eirlys cannot swim, so that makes jumping in a river a silly idea. And now she's soaking wet. We're trying to get her warm and then dry," Sealgaira says to Kee. She gives Jester another look like she's deciding just what to do with it.

Sark rumbles again, low under his breath, and looks up comically for a moment as if he would have a good view of the chimera still on his head. At least he gives up that idea after a moment, tilting his head a little to lean down and nudge the satyr again, "You should sit up or I am going to lick you in front of all these pretty people...."

Kieran cocks her head a little. "Yeah? Well... that's oddly... fortuitous, isn't it?" She looks to Sealgaira, "Nobody dry her out just yet. You got a canteen or a thermos or fuck, a bowl or something? You wanted shit scried on her and Jester, right? Gather up the water she's dripping..."

At that, the laying Eil stays oddly silent wven though she was very vocal before. Who knows why! The Jester-had would kingle as Sark koved his head, a golden claw tracing in a circle idly between his horns as Jester shows more life than he has in an age. His much too wide smile only grows at the statement he's going to be scried.b 'Oh, some caution may be in order... you never know why might things wish to stay hidden, but who am I to deny the knight of the royal courts? I live to provide~'

Sealgaira looks at the picnic sundries and gets out a bowl. It's not that difficult to get the water from Eil's fur, though not a lot. Then the knight hands the bowl to Kee. "I hope this is enough for what you want." Then the Fiona knight looks to Jester with all the intensity and determination a Sidhe can manage. "Jester, I am a knight of the fae. You've been singularly unhelpful in helping me to protect Eirlys, except to tell me that she's in danger from others and herself. If you live to provide, here's your choice. Firstly, Kieran can peer into Dán and scry the threads around Eirlys. Or, I can use dictum on you, right here, right now. I'm not waiting for whatever is putting her in jeopardy to make a move. I intend to be proactive." With a sigh, Sealgaira looks down at the ground. "The third choice is that I will have nothing more to do with Eirlys." Though, it sounds like the Fiona doesn't actually want that.

Sark looks up at his head again then more curiously at Alicia, "Maybe...he should hop down first. I have inherent abilities that are just part of my scales that might fuck up targeting someone ON me." But then to Jester, he offers, "I promise you can have your perch back when she's done. Fair offer?" He doesn't try to SHAKE Jester off, just lowers his head so the stuffed one can vacate the premises on his own power. That and the lizard might be trying to extract himself from the discussion before Jester gets TOO comfortable on his perch.

"Well there's your problem. Well, part of it," Dasia replies, before looking at Eil. "We're going to find a day to drag you to the University pool, or our to a lake in the mountains, or down to the beach, and we're going to teach you how to swim." Not that this would solve the *cold* problem, but one thing at a time. As for the Jester making things troublesome, that gets one of her SmolGrins to curl the corners of her lips. Much Mischief. Wow.

Kieran frowns a little. "You realize... it doesn't *quite* work like that, right, Sealgaira?" She takes the bowl, and moves to wring more liquid from the hair dripping down the satyr's head. "I can try to guide it... but the Dan shows what the Dan chooses to show. We aren't the writers of our fates, only the instruments it plays upon." Yeah, someone may have gotten a little more philosophical as her relationship with the Tapestry deepened. "Now, I'm gonna need this water.. is there salt in there? And can we set up some small bundles of sticks at the four cardinal directions?"

'Oh royal knight, your words wound me so!' Jester cries in mock sorrow, sliding off Sark's head to plop onto the ground. 'Singularly unhelpful... the one who has saved my dear from too many perils to count? The one that keeps her from waking up in the cruel autumn with no memories of herself, that takes her pain, nay even her discomfort unto his humble stuffing....' His hesd tilts back, eyes up to the sky, claws out in mimicked despair... before his hesd flips back to stare at the knight with a -crack-. 'You misunderstand me... I shall not stop you. Scry on, learn what you seek. For, if I lost you Eil, she would freeze me to the highest peak.' And with that, the laughter rings into sounds that cut at the mind like clashing swords.

Sark tilts his head again, but murmurs a thank you when Jester slides off. The dragon even backs up a couple of steps to 'get out of the line of fire' as if he thinks that's a thing to be concerned about. Settling back down like a cat turning into a loaf, he curls his tail around himself to allow that bladed tip to lightly thump on the ground next to his shoulders. Jester talks about saving the goat, causing the dragon to shift his attention to look her over again, then to Kieran...for the moment, soaking everything they are discussing in.

"I know, Kee. Believe me, when I tried to scry Eirlys, it was infuriatingly vague. But, just do what you can, okay? I think there is salt in the basket," Sealgaira says before turning to Jester. She thinks for a moment about saying something to him before going to sit next to Eirlys. The Knight undoes the cloak from her armor and wraps it around the Satyr. "You do understand that I'm worried about you, right, my dear?" There's a horrifying realization that comes over Sealgaira as she realizes she almost said something else. Something different. Disturbed the Fiona goes off away from the group to lean against a tree.

Kieran mutters, and goes to assemble the small bundles of kindling at the cardinal points herself, since the 'can *we* get this done' apparently resulted in 'no, *we* cannot'. Once that's done, she beckons the satyr to come into the middle of all four, where there's plenty of room. "Ok, I'm gonna lay the salt circle around you, so nothing outside can get in at you while I do this, so don't freak." She unhooks her rapier and lays it down near where Eirlys is, then looks to the dragon. "Sark, I'm gonna need you to light just the Northern fire, please?"

"Does it need to be salt? I think I've still got some sand in my boots from... uh... whichever stretch of desert I was just in," Nasrin offers, like it doesn't actually matter. She plops down on a serendipitously placed rock just off the pathway and begins to unlace the boot. There could be some salt in there, you don't know. Ah, but a salt *circle*... that's specific enough that sand probably won't cut it. OH WELL. She doesn't stop undoing the laces, though. She's got sand in there, that definitely needs to be taken care of.

Kee asks Sark to light one of the fires and he chirps agreeably, "I can do that!" Of course, lazy lizard that he is, he doesn't bother to get up, he just lifts his head and craaaanes it over enough to blow a little jet of napalm onto the northern bundle and let it spring ablaze. SMacking his lips, he settels back down to watch what Kieran is up to with more curiosity.'

Eil shuffles at the touch of the cloak, grabbing it and pulling it around herself to hide even more from sll that's around her. The question of worry ellicits a small, soft noise that probably does not do much to assuage worries but is nice in its own cuteness. When asked to get up and move to the middle for the next part of the ritual, though, she only wiggles and hides even more. No, matter, though, for the little plush Jester walks up himself. 'Allow me~' Then, without warning, there's suddnely squirming movement pushing up under his fuzzy outside as if a dozen rabid animals were trapped therin, the pushing moving him to grow, grow, and grow until he towers over 3 meters tall, proportions only slightly different. That golden razor-toothed grin is a tad more menacing now... but, true to his word, his claws gently slide under Eil and place her in the middle. She almost trues to cling to the soft mitten part of his "hand" before he steps back, staying near the middle to watch over her. 'Now this... this will be fun~'

Sealgaira punches the trunk of the tree she is by with her mailed fist. "Fuck!" Oddly enough, it has nothing to do with what is going on with Kieran's soothsaying.

Kieran sighs, giving Dasia an arch look, before she moves over to Sark's side and starts piling up her clothing next to his big, scaly elbow. Old magicks are best done the old ways, after all. Coming back to the northern fire, she plucks a single taper from the pile, and standing just to the south of the fire, bows low. "Gaoth an Tuaiscirt, fuar agus neart. Cuidigh liom i mo chuid oibre," she intones, and then starts to make her way around, clockwise, staying on the inside of the circle the fires make. "Gaoth an Oirthir, aigne chomh geal. Cuidigh liom i mo chuid oibre." With another bow, the eastern fire is lit. "Gaoth an Deiscirt, paisean chomh fíor. Cuidigh liom i mo chuid oibre." Bowing, she uses the taper to bring the southern flame to life as well." "Gaoth an Iarthair, chomh milis agus gorm. Cuidigh liom i mo chuid oibre." One final bow, and the western fire completes the circle, with the taper left inside. Then she moves to take up her sword, and uses the tip to inscribe a slow, deliberate circle in the dirt around Eirlys' hooves as she walks around the satyr, this time counterclockwise. As second time, she walks the circle, setting the blade down halfway through, in front of Eirlys as she picks up the salt. Then a third time, as she uses the salt to fill in the track. Finally, she takes up the bowl, and moves to kneel in front of Eirlys, her sword across the line of her knees, and sets the vessel down, waiting until the chimerical water stills, watching. Letting the surface fill her vision, her thoughts, fill her entire sense of being...

While the dragon is following Kieran's actions fairly closely, its Alicia's outburst that has him jerk his head away to watch her with one raised brow, clearly thinking he's missed something in the exchange that's happening right in front of him. He, however, does not ask, instead turning his head back to listen to Kee's bunk clos enough that he might be trying to remember it for later while he watches the naked one Do Her Thing..

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Kieran rolls 5 vs 4 for 3 successes. 1 +8 +8 +10 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Kieran rolls 3 vs 4 for 1 successes. 2 3 +6 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Dasia gets the boot off and dumps a small pile of sand out of the first one. The second pile will get dumped out shortly! Probably. The first boot is put back on needs to get laced up first. Except she glances up at the shouting and gives a little frown. "Did we lose a Knight somewhere?" she inquires, looking around for Sealgaira. Nope, out of view. That's not ominous. Gives her plenty of time to unlace that second boot and get that annoying sand out.

As the magic begins, Jester would become uncharacteristically quiet compared to before... simply standing there in all his menacing nature, watching, listening. Glowing circles for eyes shimmering in the night. Eil, in her salt circle confinement, would writhe under that Sidhe cloak as if she were having a baaad dream... mumbling to herself. Still shivering partially. The energy in the air is palpable, both from the glamour of Kee's work and something of a colder, sharper edge....

As the cantrip's power flows into her, Kieran jerks upright, still kneeling. Her eyes are open, but she shows no sign of being at all aware of her surroundings. Clearly *something* has taken hold, as the seeress's body tenses, fine hairs rising, her skin flushed and nipples suddenly swollen. She begins to writhe slowly, her hands slowly tracing up along her sides like a caress, as a low, gutteral, moan forces its way from her throat. Maybe getting naked while scrying on a *satyr* wasn't such a hot idea. Or, y'know... maybe it *was*.

Sark actually frowns a little at the taste of something else in the air beyond that of just glamour and manipulation of the Wyrd. He can't place a claw on it, but its enough to make the dragon frown a little and focus a little more specifically on Eirlys and Jester, expecting Something Might Go Wrong here any moment. Or something that should find its way onto PornHub for residual income. One of the two.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Dasia rolls Perception + Kenning vs 6 for 1 successes. 1 1 2 2 5 +8 9 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

`AaaAAAAAHHHHAAAAARmmhHRRAAAHhhhhh...` Eil would groan-moan out, cloak falling off of her some as she rolls onto her back in the middle of the circle, limbs twitching as her eyes remain firmly closed... the snowy voile around her beginning to whip up with an unseen wind and very much seen start of sparkly Glamour flowing like a budding snowstorm. All the while her pale cheeks are flushed bright red, body still dripping. Things are both heating up and cooling down....

The knight comes running back at the sound of Eil's groan, moan. Sword in her hand. She looks at the scene, the Satyr in the middle of the circle, Kieran basically jilling herself. Sark looks a little on edge, too. Sealgaira looks about, making sure there's no immediate danger before sheathing her sword.

That sand in her boots must have been hella distracting, because it's not until the second one is off and the little pile starts getting poured out (and the pulse of Wyrd Dan-Tapestry Scanning Glamour rolls out from the circle) that her attention. Her eyes snap up to see the Chluichaun get overwhelmed with the Satyr's... uh... NATURE, but also Eil moaning out certainly gets her attention, too. She flicks the tip of her tongue out to get a fresh little glisten to her lip gloss as she watches it, the hiking boot in hand just. Forgotten for the moment.

Kieran is still caught up in the spell's power, or maybe... in the power of whatever it is she's tapped into? Whatever it is, she falls foward, arms straining as they catch her, all four limbs shaking with the weight of... whatever it is that the Dreaming has decided she needs to have inflicted upon her. Her back arches as the moans change into a weak, desperately whimpered, 'No... don't. Stop... please...'

Sark tilts his head to the side and indeed, looks a little...well, is it confused? uncomfortable? Unsure? The big lizard is around two friends who look a lot like they are about to get off right in front of him in very unexpected ways...so when Alicia comes running back in with her sword, the dragon gives her a bit of a raised borw that clearly telegraphs 'What the ACTUAL fuck?', before continuing to shift his attention between Kieran and Eirlys. Somehow, what he knows about Satyrs just does NOT cut this reaction, and the big lizard looks like he's having to tell himself to behave and not touch anyone. Surely Kee knows what she's doing. Right? Right.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Eirlys rolls Fae(5) + Winter(5) (10 dice) vs 6 for 3 successes. 1 1 2 3 5 +6 +6 +7 8 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

As Kee seems to be absolutely -CRUSHED- under the weight of whatever the hell she's tapped into, the Glamour turning to a chaotic roil around, Eil would let out a bloodcurdling SCREAM-ROAR! `MrRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHAAAAHHHHHHH! STOP PLEASE STOP PLEASE!` The sensation of something getting -colder- around everything, though not even the air itself, would rapdily approach as Eil's body would start to cover in layers of frost where the water still remains. Everything would seem to grow still for a moment, like the eye of a hurricane, before there would be a cascading -CRRZZZZZCH-. The Glaour of the dan would, nearly all at once, fall out of the air and shatter like the magic itself had been cut through with a sharpened icy stalactite. Eil, then, would THROW herself up, out, out, from that circle, from her half-asleep state, gasping for air as her eyes, dripping with tears onto her pink-yet-frosty cheeks, would look to the Sidhe knight. Without another word, she would throw herself form that circle of salt, arms wrapping tightly around Sealgaira as she collapses into sobbing onto her shoulder. `My... angel....`

Sealgaira goes over to Kee. She hadn't expected this to happen. Her own meager attempts at scrying into Dan didn't make anything like this happen. Of course, Kee is far more skilled than the Fiona. Far more in tune with Dan. And this is taking place in the dreaming. That was Sealgaira's mistake, impatience. She looks between Kee and Eirlys, but then the Satyr gets out of the spell and onto the knight. Sealgaira wraps her arms around Eirly. "It's okay. I have you. You're okay, love. You're okay. You're safe with me." The Fiona looks like she is wondering what the fuck just happened.

BOOT BACK ON AND LACED UP, Nasrin scoops up some of the sand and begins to pour it from one hand back to the other. Starting to get weird for the Wyrd, as it were. But the freezing effects fo Winter slam into the Soothsaying, and that... seems to calm it all down? Well. Calmed down enough. "Sealgaira is tending to Eil... are you doing okay over there, Kee?" she inquires, standing up and moving closer under the presumption that it isn't. Better to be there and be ready, than to sit idly by and do nothing. Kieran's response is eloquent and loquacious as Dasia asks after her condition. Or it probably would be, if not for losing consciousness.

The mystical crash of energy is enough to startle the big lizard into ruffling and shoving himself back a couple of feet, those wings flaring up a bit as he moves, like he was preparing to have to brace against something harmful. When the building energy seems to fall apart, he calms down a little and watches the reaction with Eirlys, then focuses on Kieran with some concern, while he tries to make sure everyone is actually okay, even if he doesnt know really what the hell happened yet. His claws dig into the ground impatiently. When Kieran simply passes out, he finally steps forward with a grumble, trying to scoop the naked redhead up with one arm.

Eil's arms squeeeeze around Sealgaira with desperate strength, not letting go a she continues to quietly cry. `Safe... here. Yes... here... safe...` she mumbles reassuringly. Jester, meanwhile, is still uncharacteristically silent, not moving until he finally reaches down to pick up the Sidhe cape from the salt circle. With one reach over of his too-long arm, those claws would gently wrap the cape around Sealgaira and Eil.

Having accepted the situation, Sealgaira whispers softly in Eil's ear. "I promise, you are safe with me, my love. Just rest. Just rest here with me and I will hold you and protect you." She nods a thanks at Jester, even as she glances over at Kee, hoping the redhead will be okay. Sealgaira is going to owe her for this. Turning back to Eil, she kisses the Satyr's cheek. "You adorable, fluffy butt, you."

"Well, the sand is going to be useless," Nasrin mumbles, dropping the whole handfulls off to the side and claps her hands to get the little granules out. "Sark, can you lift that paw? Yeah, right there," she says, reaching under to grab a fistfull of some chimerical flowers. She crushes the petals, rolling them between her fingers and rubbing her hands together for extra smooshy-power. She's kneeling over Kieran at this point, one hand rubbing the flower-leavings on her forehead, the other rubbing it on be base of her neck. Finally, the Elegbara bends down closer. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," she says, before planting a big ol' smooch on the sleeping Chlurichaun.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Dasia rolls Spring + Fae vs 5 for 3 successes. 2 2 3 4 +7 +9 +10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Kieran groans as she's awakened, and just blinks up at Dasia for a few moments before giving her a very suspicious Fry-isn't-sure-if-this-is-a-good-thing squint. "What... what's going on?"

Sark sits up once he has Kee lifted off of the gound, cradling her in those big scaly arms where Dasia can get to her, since he doesn't have many options here. He does offer in a low rumble, "I can lick her, but that usually only helps if you've been beaten up physically or are bleeding, and Im not sure if that would help, here..." Instead he watches the princess do the smooching, tilting his head to see what sorta reaction that gets out of the redhead. When she seems to come around, he leans his head down closer to her face and rumbles at her, "You passed out like a sack of rocks, hot stuff...."

Eil's half-animal face would, for the first time since she returned all soaked and cold, curl slightly into a smile. Dragging her head up from the shoulder, she would press that soft front of her face and twitching nose up against Sealgaira's cheek--not just to smooch it, but hold it there to take in the Sidhe's own warmth. The grip of her arms slowly softens, more of her weight going limp, needing support. `mrrrrghhhhhhh...`

Kieran groans again. "I passed out? No, I couldn't have... I was..." She frowns some, then shakes her head, "I was... no... no I must have." She falls silent again as she gathers herself, then stands, and moves to slowly begin collecting her belongings. "That was... my head is just..." A moment of unsteadiness staggers her, and she looks around again. "Alright... enough of this shit." She scoops up her rapier and stabs it down into the center of the crossroads, then starts once again walking widdershins around it in an expanding spiral. "Tá an bhliain nua an dragan d'aois ar an lann seo coinneoidh mo gheasa "Mar is gá dom folctha agus teastaíonn uaim an staighre agus fuck seo go léir dúr agus cacamas feirge." Coming back to the center, she looks up at the sky to where the moon is just beginning to show, and smirks, calling loudly, "Agus oibreoidh sé seo, freisin toisc go bhfuil sé Gaeilge agus go Tá an teanga of sióg draíocht "Soith."

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Kieran rolls 6 vs 3 for 4 successes. 1 +5 +5 +6 +10 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Nasrin nods at Sark's explination. "That's about right, except he forgot to mention it looked like you enjoyed it so much I just might ask you to teach me how to read the Dan, so I can give it a ride, myself," she says, corners of her lips quirked up and a little twinkle in her eye. "You wanna go get drinks and keep going, though, you got my number." The remains of the flowers get brushed on her shorty-hiking shorts, and she stands up, offering a perfectly mannicured hand to Kee to help her up if she'll take it. She gives a glance to the Knight. "How is the little Faun?" she inquires.

Sark blinks when Kieran does a 'damn the torpedoes' maneuver and rams her blade into the ground. He gives the angry redhead a respectful step back to give her a little distance to walk her circle, ruffling his wings a bit with a touch of nervous energy. He's not SURE what's going on, but enough to know someone PROBABLY should be saying 'but wait...', so instead he's prepared to sidestep and shove his wing over Dasia and Eirlys and Alicia. You know, just in case. Golden meatshield.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Dasia rolls Lang Arcadian vs 6 for 3 successes. 4 5 +6 +6 +7 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Sark rolls Intelligence + Empathy vs 9 for 2 successes. 4 5 5 5 +9 +9 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

"If I had known we were going to have Vesta's Blessing, I would have spent some more glamour," Sealgaira says, then picks up Eil and takes her to the crossroads to sit in the blessing. "I don't know, Nasrin. I don't know. Sark, darling. As much as licking Eirlys is my job, can you? Uh, you know. Just to help her?" Sealgaira is holding Eil tightly to her, covered by the cloak, but she sets it aside for Sark to do his healing thing.

Kieran sighs, "Ok. I'm gonna go find that river and get cleaned up. I'll be right back." She pauses, then looks at Jester, "If I'm not back in like, half an hour, come find me, ok?" And with that, she starts to go looking for the river.

Sark frowns a little more, this time reflecting more confusion than concern, like he's CERTAIN he heard something wrong while Kieran works through her chanting. There's a good chance that when Stella asks him about his evening, the dragon is just going to say 'wierd fae shit' and leave it at that, which will probably save both of them some Sanity Points.

Eil doesn't protest the picking-upening, Jester shrinking back down to true plush mode to follow them more inconspicuously. The Satyr does manage to look back at the others to make sure they're still there and alive before she's taken to her resting spot, though. `You... really know how to wake me up, huh? Well... I guess you weren't the one that did it. Just the one that's again saving me from...` she pauses, frown returning before she shakes her head to look to the dragon. `I... could use a nice warm licking, yes....`

Jester shrinking in size seems to startle Sark a bit, ALMOST as if he had forgotten the 9 foot tall plushie was Right There. He shifts his feet around a little before refocusing on Eil and rumbling, "You were covered in frost. Lets hope my tongue doesn't stick to you like that movie." With that said, he does lean down and gives the satyr's face a thorough licking with that purple, forked tongue - well, if she wore makeup, she sure as fuck doesnt NOW...

"The blessing occurs after the full night's rest, so there's still time to spend it yet," Nasrin notes to Sealgaira, looking around to see if there is anything she can pick up to help carry over to the crossroads proper. "If we've got enough firewood gathered, I can get the camp fire going, so we can start to settle in for the evvening." Healing Spring is also an option for wounds, but certainly isn't as enjoyable as a proper licking.

"Now you know why a knight wears a cloak, so she always has something to lay on to sleep, no matter where we wind up. So, here, at this spot in the forest, we will make our home tonight with Vesta's Blessings," Sealgaira says to Eil, once Sark has well and truly licks Eirlys to heal her. "We can have the fire, and a dragon, and if Lady Nasrin wants to stay, we will have her for company. Of course Kee, when she gets back. All here with us." Sealgaira gives Sark a look. It's the kind of look that suggests if he had plans for the evening, they better be cancelled or cancelable. "And we can rest and make sure you're well, my love." Sealgaira kisses Eil's cheek.

The licking of the dragon's heated tongue would actually begin to make a dent in the frost, melting it away with the radiating warmth of the fire inside. There would be no more shivering for the Satyr now, but there -would- be wiggling in its place as she would kick off her still wet clothing fully. The natural scarf neck fur of hers would -pompf- back up as it dried, tail moving against where her rear layed over Alicia. `You put up with... wayyy too much shit from me to be so nice. Especially you, Sealgaira... you have from the beginning.` Her voice slows, a yawn leaving her maw as she tucks her eyes shut, the fluffy thing clearly exhausted. `If that's not love, I dunno what is...`

Sark grunts softly at Alicia's look and rumbles at her, "If you all behave, you can even have a wing as a blanket. Stella will be fine as long as I touch base with her in the morning. She will be able to pick up that Im not harmed through our connection, so she should not worry." He pauses for a moment to grab the rest of the wood that had been gathered up to add it to that initial little bonfire, spitting just a little more heat on it to make sure the flame is still going healthily. With that task accomplished, he shifts himself around to flop down on the grass and more or less face his side to the fire, giving enough room for others to put their backs to his scales should they want a warm place to curl up in front of the fire, or at least leave room for Kieran when she might return.

"The Dreaming brought me here, best to stay and see it through," Nasrin replies. Serendipity do be weird that way. It would not do to try and circumvent it. "It will be fine, I'm sure Sark is comfortable enough to use one of his claws as a pillow or something." She even nods when he offers the wing as a blanket! She gives a glance to the faun, though. "Putting up with things to see fosterings through until their Saining is just... life," she says. Passion before Duty, but Duty is still there. (It helps that she can still be lazy and not put in a ton of effort for it, though.)

"Sark, darling. Eil is a Satyr. I am a Knight of House Fiona. Behave is . . . let's just say if by behave you mean, don't make love, then I say there's at least a fifteen percent chance we won't." Sealgaira kiss Eirlys. "I do put up with way too much shit from you. You ate all my hot and spicey chicken. But, if you mean all the chaos. My love, we are fae, we are made of chaos. I don't mind the chaos. I don't mind your youthful exuberance. I don't care if you do stupid things every time I am not watching you like a hawk. It's actually kind of endearing and adorable. What infuriates me more than anything is that something is putting you in danger and I can't kill it. And eating my hot and spicey chicken."

Eil lets out a loooong breath, perhaps wanting to wiggle even closer if not for the fact the Sidhe was still in full armor. But it's not like she' smuch longer for the count, anyways, simply smiling as she lets those words wash over her. And perhaps a dragon wing above, too. `Ordered chaos... unordered chaos... heheh... chaos reignssss, my looove...` is hte last thing she would say before she became too unresponsive to hold coherent conversation any longer.

Sark mffs at Sealgaira in an amused tone, while closing his eyes and settling his head down in the grass, "I care not if you two decide to grind out your happiness with each other. I mean behave as in keep the stabby bits in their sheathes and please dont whip out any magical efforts - those will wake me up. Fair?" He seems to be fine with that before adding, "You can eat each other's hot and spicy chicken to your heart's content."

Dasia arches a brow at all the... IMPLICATIONS... and gives a sideglace at Sark. "And here you probably could have just asked to be included," she teases. "Alas, he had to offer to be an honorable, chaste creature. Alas."

"Sadly, it seems like my adorable fawn is too tired for anything other than sleep. But, Sark, my dear and good friend, I would be happy to sleep under your wing. And thank you. For everything, for being here. For being you." Sealgaira starts to get out of her armor. "I will leave the sword sheathed." She smirks to the group. "Of course, for men, that phrase has so much double meaning. Lady Nasrin, you are welcome to share my cloak for sleeping. I shan't force a lady of the east to sleep on the bare ground." Indeed, the cloak is quite wide. Four people can probably fit, if they are all good, good friends. Soon enough, the knight is unclothed for sleep, her armor in a neat layout. Her tunic is rolled up in a pillow: for Eirlys.