2023.10.24 Ice to Meet You

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Ice to Meet You
Catching up, making plans, and meeting new people
IC Date October 24, 2023
IC Time Afternoon
Players Alicia, Dasia, Eirlys, Sark
Location Lost in Time Market
Spheres Bygone, Changeling


Dasia meanders around the Plaza of Hours, in search of... well. Something. Today finds her Voile taking the form of Prada in the Leanhaun colors - a green turtleneck sweater with a zipper in lieu of buttons for a collar (and zipped halfway) with a belted black miniskirt, a pair of knee-high socks and high-heeled loafers, and all rounded out with a not-*too* ostentatious handbag hooked into her left elbow. Her starlight-blue hair is wavey and free-flowing as ever, but doing nothing to stop her silver gaze from roaming stall to stall, looking for the right piece of dross for ENCHANTMENTS.

--- --- --- --- ---

The Fiona knight strolls through the market, resplendent in her usual armor, polished steel with a red cloak. That is the downside of being a knight, there's not much room for outfit changes. Sidhe plate is Sidhe plate. Though, in acknowledgement of the changing of the seasons, there are leather accents to her armor, and the cloak seems to be of a heavier cloth. "Well met, Lady Dasia," Sealgaira says.

--- --- --- --- ---

The corners of Dasia's lips quirk up in one of her eyeless smiles. "Lady Sealgaira," she replies, giving a little not-quite-bow, not-quite-curtsey. "It has been too long. I trust everything is well in the county? No wandering monsters of any concern?" she inquires. It's a valid concern. It *is* spooky season, after all.

--- --- --- --- ---

The knight sighs sadly after giving Dasia a knightly salute. "No wondering monsters. No evil to vanquish. It's a shame," Sealgaira says. "How am I supposed to make a name for myself without heroic deeds and feats of glory?"

--- --- --- --- ---

"You may, of course, always accompany me when I venture deeper into the dreaming to look for supplies for enchantments," Dasia suggests, her face showing the hint of annoyance at the stalls nearby. "I keep telling them what I need, and they keep either returning without it, or selling it to someone else. This is getting ridiculous."

--- --- --- --- ---

Sealgaira nods slowly. "I would be happy to protect you in the dreaming. Tell me, what are you looking for?"

--- --- --- --- ---

Dasia frowns a tiny frown, not... quite... recalling the name of the plant. "I need a specific length of thorned vine from a particular plant," she says. "The trick is finding that plant. I will also need a quart of spring water bathed in the light of the Hunter's Moon to soak it in. The spring water is not difficult. Finding the vine in time will be." A pause, before Dasia adds, "Lacking the Hunter's Moon, the Cold Moon should also suffice."

--- --- --- --- ---

"A trimming from a plant? I assume that the issue with this vine is that it is in a part of the dreaming that is dangerous, hazardous, and the like?" Sealgaira asks. "Still, if you know vaguely how to get there, I will accompany you."

--- --- --- --- ---

"No, the issue is that it is not endemic in this Kingdom," Dasia replies. "I know of many glades nearer to the Kingdom of Northern Ice, and oases back in the Sultanate where suitable plants for this grow. But here in Lion's Reach..." The Elegbara can only shrug. "Perhaps I've gone about this wrong, and instead of seeking a merchant to find it for me, I should find a soothsayer to summon a Wisp to divine something more... local." Of course, it's also likely to be in a dangerous area. Things with Elegbara are never so simple.

--- --- --- --- ---

"I hate to talk myself out of a quest, but have you considered returning back home to acquire this? Either through a trod or an A380?" Sealgaira asks. "Just make sure you're back for the Vegas trip. Don't want to miss the Fiona orgy after the race."

--- --- --- --- ---

Dasia arches a thin, microbladed brow at that, and purses her lips in thought. Considering. "No... the vines will likely dry out and become worthless before my return, as I do not have the skill in Wayfar to make the journey fast enough." A pause. "Though nothing is stopping me from finding a spring local to the plant and enchanting the treasure there." Decisions decisions.

--- --- --- --- ---

Dasia and Sealgaira are chatting in the market. Dasia is in some elegant Prada. Sealgaira is in her armor. So, the usual.

--- --- --- --- ---

Sark can probably be heard before he's actually seen in the crown, because the young man is obnoxiously humming to himself while he sorta...bounces from vendor to vendor, seeing what they have to sell today. Of course the vendors with SHINIES get him to linger longer and really stare at things for a while, before he manages to successfully tear himself away without buying or trading. When he actually sees Dasia and Sealgaira chatting, he stops and waves a hand t them, grinning. Well, at least he's not trying to yell across the Market, right?

--- --- --- --- ---

Eirlys trots through the market, garbed in her usual gossamer snowy draperies and clutching that strange-looking plushie that looks like a mutated dog-thing garbed in jester's attire with danging talons of gold. She speaks to him quietly, holding him under her arm as she her eyes trail around the place quite quickly, a look of nervousness on her face. What's more, strapped around her is an intricate -spear- of sparkling white ice that's just as tall as she is, if not more. Once she spots Sealgaira, she quickly rushes over to her, the plushie stowed at her waist as she draws her into a sudden hug! `There you are... I've been looking all over for you! Thank goodness....`

--- --- --- --- ---

"Eil, hi! Did you get lost?" Sealgaira smiles and hugs the Satyr back. "Or is something wrong?" The knight looks out, seeing if something has spooked the young woman. With a freehand, Sealgaira waves to Sark, before rubbing Eirlys's back. "But it looks like you found a nice looking weapon," Sealgaira says.

--- --- --- --- ---

Dasia isn't in JUST elegant Prada. The Voile has taken the form of a Leanhaun-green turtleneck sweater with a zipper in lieu of buttons for a collar (and zipped halfway) with a belted black miniskirt, a pair of knee-high socks and high-heeled loafers, and all rounded out with a not-*too* ostentatious handbag hooked into her left elbow. The humming dragon catches her attention before the plushie-weilding Satyr, and she gives them both one of her smiles that doesn't quite reach her eyes, and also a nod in greeting. "Sarkesian... Eirlys... well met."

--- --- --- --- ---

Sark approaches the three with his hands claspes behind his back, giving Eirlys a once over before grinning at her, "Hello again. I do not think I have seen you since the party. Good to see you are doing well?" With that greeting given, he pulls up just outside of arms reach of the others and shines that smile on the other two, "I am happy to see you both as well. It has been a little quiet."

--- --- --- --- ---

`No, I didn't...` Eil sighs, looking behind her, then at the familiar faces. `And I didn't find it, I -made- it.` Then, her eyes trail over to the approaching Sarkesian, head tilting a bit to study him. Her eyes widen a little in realization. `Oh, OH... you! At the...` she shakes her head, clutching onto Sealgaira tighter. `It's allll fine now Eil, get yourself together...` she would whisper under her breath.

--- --- --- --- ---

Sealgaira slowly extricates herself from the Satyr hug. "Eirlys, I would like to formally present to you Lady Dasia, of House Leanhaun, and the Dragon Sarkesian. Lady Dasia, this is Eirlys, foster of the Satyr Iris. Sark, this is Eirlys, a new fledgling Satyr. And one of my lovers." Cause Fiona gonna Fiona. Sealgaira whispers to Eirlys. "It would be appropriate to curtsey to Lady Dasia. She is not Sidhe, but she is titled within Faerie Society."

--- --- --- --- ---

Dasia puts a hand to her chest, fingers splayed out like she's pointing at herself. "Damawiy Nasrin if you're feeling particularly formal, but Dasia is more than suitable for here, or in the Autumn world," she explains. Pest homeland security would never understand. 'Have you gone by any other name? What's that? *marks the terrorist confirmed checkbox*' All because of Faerie Names.

--- --- --- --- ---

Sark tilts his head a little at Eirlys' reaction, giving her a light shake of the head before reassuring, "Just Sark is fine, really. Only people that use my full name are usually people that want something from me. I don't bite, I promise? But happy to formally meet you, as well..." He offers the satyr a small, respectful bow of his head. Giving Sealgiara a look, he adds in amusement, "So this means we are still on for the occasional dragonsbreath shot?"

--- --- --- --- ---

Eil stares at Sealgaira for a few moments, blinking. `Oh... yeah.` Then, she peels herself off, dusting off that sparkling voile before pulling herself to height and putting one hand in front of her torso to bow a bit. `Eirlys, or Eil for short. You're real familiar... something in my mind screams 'cyborg' for some reason. Oh well, probably nothing.` She glances over her shoulder again, hooves clopping a bit as she readjusts herself on the cobble. `Wait, wait, did you say dragon?` Immediately, her eyes would lock onto the blond-haired man with a sparkle of their own in their reddish purple. `DRAGON!!! Hell yeah, another one off the bucket list! Do you have a hoard? Do you breathe fire or ice or something weirder? Do you like crushing people under your scaly paws?!`

--- --- --- --- ---

The knight smirks, amused. It's easy to get excited when meeting a dragon for the first time. Sealgaira mouths a /sorry/ to Sark, watching.

--- --- --- --- ---

Chaotic Satyr is Chaotic, which is usual for so soon after the Chrysalis. Dasia only gives one of her wrinkle-free grins at that. "You will find all manner of legendary beast in the dreaming, I'm sure you've been told already. But it deserves repeating," she says.

--- --- --- --- ---

Sark tilts his head to look back at Eirlys at her reaction and blinks a couple of times, but the smile resurfaces, "I...well, I have a collection, yes, and I do breathe fire, but not so much when I look like THIS...." he pauses to chuckle, "And no, not unless they are trying to hurt me. Then, well, they kinda deserved to get stomped into goo...but then I gotta clean people bits out from between my toes. Eew. Same reason I don't like eating people. They don't bathe well enough. Are you...finding your way around well? You kinda had a rough shove into the deep end when you came out." He does shift his attention to all three before commenting, "I had just come out to see what was on sale, but I hadn't seen any of you in a while. Missed you guys. Well, girls. You know what I mean." Dasia's comment earns her a wink, "Hey now. I am not some run of the mill chimera...tsk tsk."

--- --- --- --- ---

Eil's grin grows ever-wider, the thing that was worrying her seemingly forgotten as her demeanor completely changes. `Ohhh yes yes... goo. Filth. Of course. What if they were FROZEN like ICE CUBES? Then you could just smash them. No goo. No filth. Good solution.` She crosses her arms, nodding to herself in confident manner as if she had just solved a great contention. `Sales are niiice... though crowded places aren't. I don't imagine you like 'em either what with, well, having to be so small! Aaand don't worry about me, I've been pushing myself into deep ends since I was a kid. 'Nooo Eil don't go to school after hours, noooo don't look through that locked filing cabinet, nooo don't go siphoning camera footage from government property.' Tch.'

--- --- --- --- ---

"Sark is a Faerie Friend. I would protect him as I would another Fae. Which, you might not realize, Eirlys, is a statement of great significance," Sealgaira explains to the Satyr. "May I see the spear you crafted?" she asks as she holds out her gauntleted hand.

--- --- --- --- ---

Dasia inclines her head in a bit of a nod to agree. "Sark is indeed a True Friend to... most of the Kithain within the county," she says. "So it is true, he *is* no run of the mill chimera... a good many of them are not agreeable," she teases. "And I would say it's better to comission something specific, not simply browse their wares, but they can't seem to even fill my simple order..." She tut-tuts in the general direction of an NPC.

"Would you believe that this is not even his smallest form?" Dasia asks of Eil, giving Sark a mischevious glance. Sure, he may be all growed up now, but... who is to say there is not still smol in there somewhere? Still! The Elegbara moves over to the edge of the fountain, sitting down for a moment, and watching Alicia as she goes to inspect the frosty weapon.

--- --- --- --- ---

Sark grins toothily at Eirlys' answers and murmurs, "Aha, you're trouble. Wonderful to hear. And well, I breathe fire, not ice, so I would always have to have someone helping me out of I wanted to make ice cubes out of people. Besides. Its...a lot of fun to set someone on fire. They usually stop trying to attack me the moment I do it."

He nods once at Alicia's statement and grins at Dasia's comment before he offers, "I want the same thing the fae do...the return of wonder and fantasy to the world, both dark and light. So if one of you needs help...IF I CAN...I will. Find me or my assistant Stella, and you have a safe retreat on my island as long as you do not bring trouble with you when you do. I like very much coming out here because I can spread my wings and I dont have to worry about who sees me do it, as long as I dont scare people here in the Market."

--- --- --- --- ---

Eil nods to the Knight, reaching back to grab the spear off her back and place it into her hands. A white mist if icy glamour constantly spreads out from the thing, its bitter coldness biting like bestial fangs wherever it's held. The bladed tip is long, making it almost more of a swordspear, bladed section coming to a diamond-tip with the edge between it and the shaft flourished out into several curling spikes. The other end has a similarly pointed counterweight, rings along the middle serving as easy spots to hold. The beauty of it cannot be understated, weight perfectly balanced in the hands, all very strange for someone who supposedly has no real experience with things like this. Meanwhile, the Satyr herself is edging closer and closer to Sark, tail wagging behind her. `How about... freeze them THEN set them on fire! That would be oh so very amusing to watch... hahahahahah. Er... nevermind! That's a lovely goal to have, I see why the others like you so. Me, I just looove cryptids and mythicals~`

--- --- --- --- ---

At this point, Sealgaira takes the spear, letting Eil be on her own. Even if the casual conversation about setting mortals on fire is . . . disconcerting. However, the knight backs up, feeling the chill of the spear even through her leather-lined gauntlets. She taps the spear lightly on the ground, just to feel the quality, and to see if the ice weapon will sing. Then she goes through a rudimentary set of martial stances and strikes with the weapon. Not as skilled with a spear as a sword, and certainly not used to holding an ice weapon, Sealgaira's moves are a bit sloppy, but still executed without failure.

"A fine weapon," the knight says, offering the spear back to Eirlys. "I hope you know how to use it. And even if you do, I'm still going to make sure of it. I hope you like training, my dear."

--- --- --- --- ---

At mention of the island, Dasia gives another nod. "Yes, it has been too long since we have come to visit," she says. Has she even been out there? It's been so long she isn't certain! Which means the trip has to happen even more, of course. "We must also finalize the discussion of the embassy," she says, mysteriously.

So many things on her to-do list.

Eil sure is excited about burning things. "Winter's Flame could be used, as well. Fire that burns, and freezes what is left behind." And a very pretty blue-white, at that! "But I am unsure if that can be made by Dragon Heart..." It probably can, for the right amount of XP.

As Sealgaira finishes her quick kata with the spear and returns it to the Satyr, Dasia leans a little forward, so she can stage-whisper: "This is why I just use sorcery, she can't decide it's time to teach me how to sword with something like that."

--- --- --- --- ---

Sark chuckles softly and doesn't seem to mind the satyr edging in closer. He even reaches out once she gets within arm's reach to try and run those human fingers into her hair and maybe give the edge of one ear a very gentle rub, "The next time I come out here, if you would like to try, I can take you flying for a little bit. Just no throwing up on my back, deal? They don't make power washers for big dragons. Anymore."

He gives Sealgiara a curious look, "If you have some sort of training meeting, if you don't mind an audience or a practice 'dummy', I'd be happy to come out for it. She can spar with my tail. I mean, not that it's any of my business. I just get fascinated." Plus, watching cute girls with big weapons? There are worse ways to spend your day, even as a big overgrown lizard.

Dasia talking about visiting gets more of a nod, "Just text me to let me know you are coming and I will make sure we don't get any other visitors. Im sure the horses and ponies would like the attention as well."

--- --- --- --- ---

Eil grins to Sealgaira. `That's the neat part: I have NO idea how to use it. I nearly skewered this pleasantly dressed squirrel... man? Dunno, he was pretty angry. But water under the bridge.` She takes the spear back and slips it over her back once more, only for attention to be STOLEN away by that mention of a winter-flame! She stops her edging towards Sark nearly instantly, instead turning towards Dasia with wide eyes. `Fire that burns, freezes what's left... I need it. Where can I see it? How do I make it?!` But, just as fast as it came, that grin fades a bit. `I... yeah, I COULD try freezing someone instead of using the spear, but last time I used Winter on an individual it... it didn't go well.`

She does lean back into Sark, though, at the sudden rubbing at her ear. She leans into it, lids drooping a tad. `Oooh... practice dummy dragon... sounds goooood to meeee. And don't worry about the flying thing, I'm a flying cavalier in training! One only a -little- scared of heights, as my gryphon would assure you. You should meet him!`

--- --- --- --- ---

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Alicia rolls Charisma + Leadership vs 2 for 5 successes.
1 +2 +4 +5 +6 +9 10
<-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Sealgaira grabs Eil by the shoulder, giving Sark and lady Nasrin a look that says to stay out of this. The Fiona makes Eil look at her, away from the distractions. "You nearly skewered a squirrel man. A pooka or a chimera?" The Sidhe attitude erupts from Sealgaira, serious, intense. "That isn't water under the bridge. That is an incident Iris or I need to deal with. Not just with your almost-victim, but potentially with the freehold's administrators. Give me the spear back. You've lost your weapons privileges until I say otherwise. Don't even think about making another one. Write down what happened, right now, while it is fresh. Make sure you give it to Iris. She will contact me if there's something I need to do." Determination, noble leadership shines forth, brooking no room for disagreement. "Now, say yes, my lady, and do it."

"Lady Nasrin, Sark, good day. Eil, I will see you at home tonight. There are other matters that I must attend."

--- --- --- --- ---

"Wait, if flying is on the table, then we should just climb on and head to the island now," Dasia says with a chuckle. NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT TO BE RECKLESS! Sark can surely carry them all, right?

Right?

Eil getting obsessive about the ColdFlame and trying to murder squirrels gets another smirk and a shake of her head at the lack of attention there. Definitely still in the fostering. "Using Winter on individuals isn't supposed to go well," she says. "That is the point of it." A pause. "Unless you mean it just didn't work, but that sounds a lot more like a skill issue than a problem with the Art, itself." She shrugs.

Aaaand Alicia goes very Principal mode on the Satyr. Which is unfortunate. It could almost be banal, except stabbing isn't a prank even a Pooka would think funny. Probably. No, they probably would, actually. Depending on the Pooka. She glances back to Sark. "Someone's got detention. Maybe you won't have to carry all three of us at once, after all."

--- --- --- --- ---

When Eirlys leans, Sark goes so far as to sharpen his fingernails and gives her spine, down to just above that tail, a light scritching, like he has some insight as to where the 'good spots' might be. He looks like he might be about to ask about the gryphon, but stops when Seagiara gets on her case about the accident.

He pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath, "On that note, I need to get back to the island to make sure the horses are taken care of, but again, you are all welcome when you have the time...or nudge me to come out here. Either way. I am, how does it go...easy?"