Open Chronicles Once Upon A Dream

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Mab

Queen of the Winter Court
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Character Biography
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As you succumb to sleep, your dreams take a strange form on this night. You feel the tugging of threads, the kiss of cool silk sheets, and hear the plinking chime of a music box as it begins to play. The notes start slowly as you are pulled deeper into sleep, a song forming out of nonsense. It grows and grows until it is no longer sweet chimes but the swell of a symphony.

You awaken to gardens thriving in full bloom. Every bush and tree and swathe of grass is splashed with blossoms in hues of purple, blue, or ivory. The two moons hang full in a violet sky that blushes along all four horizons, the gentle glow of an unnatural dusk. Fireflies twinkle and disappear like sparks from a flame.

On one side of the garden is a hall of amethyst and hanging wisteria. The silvery light of the moons slants through tall windows and reflects off of crystal pillars, illuminating the room with glitter and sparkle, but there are heavy shadows in the corners and an air of mystery. On the other side of the garden, the vaulted ceiling of a conservatory lets in the glow of the stars and the moons. A warm, gentle wind rustles the lavender leaves of a great, strange tree and teases stream into playful peaks.

The dream solidifies and you are no longer alone. Many have been brought into this dream, as varied as constellations and as colorful as exotic birds. You, too, are dressed strangely, your bedclothes left behind for something bright and extravagant. Or is it simple and elegant? Or, perhaps, does the dream shape something wondrous for you? There is only one thing in common among you all: a mask that obscures your identity.

Music lilts from everywhere and nowhere, tunes and songs that you have never heard and yet somehow feel familiar. Hooded figures, dressed in white and silver with masks like owls, bear trays of food and drink. Conversation and laughter grows and, for a moment, you think you see hundreds of silvery threads overhead before they vanish and the dream becomes reality.

Where are you? How have you arrived in this strange place? The stage is set and the music plays. What sort of dream will you make on this night of Heart and Hearth?


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Welcome to the dream masquerade!

Mab has collaborated with other duanann to host a collective dream. Whether brought by the careful planning of fae mischief or drawn in by the chaos of magick, all are welcome here! Your dream is shaped by your imagination and desires, and love is in the air. Or is it? Not all dreams are sweet, and nightmares are lurking in these halls. When you awaken from this fantasy, it will feel distant and unclear. What a strange dream it was.

For now, have fun! Drink, dance, and make merry! But be a good little poppet, for the puppeteer is watching and powerful fae magicks are at play. Should your dreams begin to interfere with those of another, you may find your strings plucked and your dream at an end.

Happy Heart & Hearth Day!
 
Like all dreams, this one too seemed to begin right in the middle.

Kade wasn't quite sure what made him aware that he was not longer in the desert environs he was used to--environs he didn't even escape in his own dreams! Maybe it was the colors of the Crystal Hall, alien as they were to him. Maybe it was the fireflies out in the Garden, remembering seeing some on a few rare occasions in his waking life. Or maybe it was that everyone was wearing masks. Everyone. Not matter where he looked. Not an exposed face anywhere.

Kade touched at his face, but he already knew the answer. Yeah. He knew it. The ghostly feel on both his fingers and face seemed like an addition and unnecessary afterthought. He was wearing a mask too, and he had no idea where he'd gotten it. His mouth was exposed, but everything else more or less hidden.

He looked down. At his clothes. Huh. He was wearing a familiar set of fine pants, shirt, and vest, all with earthen tones of green, tan, and light brown (maybe his mask was green too--he'd need a mirror to see). Weren't...yeah, these were the same clothes that he'd gotten from Zami Fein back in Annuakat. The ones he was made to give back after his audience with Medja was scrapped. How? Did he steal them back or something? Had he gotten so good that he didn't even know he'd stolen them?

Well. No. He hadn't stolen anything back. This was a dream. One of those weird ones where you knew you were in a dream while still dreaming. Weird, but neat. You could direct the flow of it.

Kade shrugged. Hey, that was easy. Felt real.

He spotted one of the many hooded figures in white passing by. Oh, hot sands! Were those grapes!? Those were grapes. Of all the food he'd ever stolen, grapes were the one thing that ceaselessly bedeviled him. He'd never gotten his hands on one before--it was like the God of Grapes had made a deal with Lady Fortune to specifically bar Kade from ever tasting one. Sure, this was a dream, this was all going to be in his imagination, but this was as close as he was going to get apparently.

Kade walked right up to the hooded, owl-masked figure. "Are those for me? Yup, they're for me. I'm making a claim. Stay right here, you're my new best friend."

He plucked one from the tray and popped it into his mouth.
 
Her eyes opened, and Victoria found herself standing in a most strange and nonsensical garden. The details were fuzzy at first, but within seconds the scene came into focus. Elegant flowers, soft grass, and glittering points of light in the air. There were others here, many looking just as dazed as she was. She could not recall how she got here, but somehow she was not alarmed.

She could feel fabric on her body, but the night air seemed to drift through it effortlessly. Looking down she could see why - her dress, elegant and floor-length, was made almost entirely of lace. She was covered well enough to avoid total immodesty, and the more she looked at it the more the twisting patterns seemed to compliment her ivory skin, making it appear a much more complete piece of cloth than it actually was.

The most shocking thing was that it was blue. Victoria could not remember the last time she had worn something that was not black or red, and indeed her home wardrobe contained nothing of this twilight-sky hue. Curious.

There was a glass in her left hand, and before she could move a white-dressed woman filled it with thick, red liquid. She raised an eyebrow at the hospitality and felt, for the first time, the feathered mask upon her face. She could not see it, but it was formed of lustrous golden weave, with leaves and filigrees to match. The sloping snout and glittering canines were obvious as a wolf's face.

Her right hand was held in another's warm grasp, and she knew without looking who stood beside her. "What manner of witchcraft is this, do you think?" she asked, taking a sip from the bloody glass before turning to Fallon.
 
Fritz was a bit groggy, and woke up not really knowing where he was. That was normal though, so he waited for it to wear off. After the world cleared, he noticed he was on a Jeweled sofa. That was new. He did not remember doing anything particularly scandalous or untoward, so a, whatever it is called was out of the possibility. He had never done anything like that before anyway, so the thought disgusted him.

His bed head seemed to follow him though, as he figured out by his reflection in one of the crystal pillars. Crystal pillars? He thought with wonderment as he looked around at the marbled walls and obsidian torch sconces.

He stared around, jut taking it all in. His hands felt translucent, and in fact they were. A dream? but...I see others. Hmm, WHAT AM I WEARING? he thought, staring at the clothes. Now I know this is a dream. Did someone find my clothes unacceptable and changed them in my dream before allowing me to dream this? No, that's a terrible explanation. I look like a snot though, that's for sure. he grimaced. Waitwaitwaitwait...I should call myself by a different name. Who knows what type of shady characters there are at this place.

Dune Elrian-Smith, Prince and heir to the kingdom of Kendal, a valley focused civilization. Not really on the map.
he thought, smiling at the name. Dune was his real name, Elrian was a bad misspelling of his last name, Smith was a reference to his job, and Kendal was a reference to his beloved mentor, Kendyl. Creative? No. Probably suspicious? Yes. Did he care? No, he gave no shits.

This should be fun. The first thing I should do is socialize. I bet talking to some of the other invitees will clue me in as to who might be the proprietor of this place. Judging by it's splendor, I'd guess a noble or even the king or queen.

He walked over to the bar and ordered a drink, not intending to drink it. he detested alcohol and it's horrendous taste. He started to sing for no apparent reason, but it helped him cope.

"I am here in this shiny hall, today is the holiday ball or so I assume, surrounded by lights and shining runes...I guess it's so. I should enjoy my time and do what I can to blend in and lead the life of a nobleman."

He decided to actually try the scotch he had ordered. "Since I only have one day, and heck, this is my imagination, I think It's safe." he thought aloud to himself. he raised his glass to his lips and took a small sip.

It wasn't terrible. "There seems to be a first time for everything, huh?" he sighed.
 
...What?...Where?...

Like a divine exhalation, a regal, exotic, and starkly feminine form materialized from the æther to join those already among the mysterious garden hall. Gently, lightly, she touched down upon the ground, a mocha haired and caramel skinned wonder, clad in an elegant, yet revealing dress, black and gold in color, and bearing a matching, catlike mask. Her garb was provocative, form fitting, yet impossibly graceful and fitting by the very way she carried herself. The finest of silks comprised her dress, specifically the unmatched quality of Kaliti silk that any resident of Liadain might be able to recognize.

Emerald green eyes fluttered open behind the feline mask to take in the unfamiliar surroundings. A haunting, ethereal beauty filled this place, and while the Empress felt a strange sense of nostalgia at the sounds that filled her ears, the location itself she did not recognize. There was, however, one thing she did sense as familiar: a certain feeling, perhaps a scent, that reminded her of a particular sentient tree that recently took up occupancy in her garden.

The Empress took to her usual flight - there was, after all, no ground worthy of having her perfect feet tread upon it - and was thankful that whatever entity had summoned her to this place had deigned to permit her familiar armlets. More than that, her magic seemed to function in this alien space, even if what she had cast was such an elementary spell. To what extent was her prodigious magic limited in this place? She didn't particularly care to explore that question at the moment. Walking would have been a terribly irksome thing to have to deal with in its own right.

For now she breathed and let the haze that filled her head clear. She observed the others about her, each who was similarly extravagantly dressed, similarly mask-clad, and similarly disoriented looking. None looked terribly familiar at the moment...

How terribly droll all of this was. The Empress would have more pointed questions for the dear Lady Vashe once she had left this peculiar place.
 
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Fritz gave a bored sigh. He had finished his ONE drink. He'd heard horrid stories about how people had one too many drinks and did pretty much unspeakable things. It was called, what? Drunkenness? What a terrible feeling.

He suddenly rezoned and noticed exactly how irritating the silk clothes he was apparently forced to wear.

"DAMMIT! I would like to speak to the ass who decided silk was a good idea to put in a tuxedo! Arethil save me! Oh well, I suppose I could unbutton the top a bit. Actually, this seems to be more of a fancy coat and blazer. It should be fine then. I think that's a style." he rationalized, unbuttoning it all the way, mollified because although everyone could see his finely toned muscles, which seemed indecent to him, as it might attract unwanted attention, but that wasn't likely. More to the point, he just didn't want to seem like he was trying to brag or anything, and not being able to see the other two-thirds of his chest helped a little.

"Ah, much better." he sighed before getting up. He had seen the other guests arriving from a door that shined with light, so he went over there and opened it.

"Oh...Wow. Amazing. I've studied some books on plant life and herbology, but have never seen anything this beautiful in person before!" He said, gazing around at the colorful and diverse garden. Acetia Roses and Draco Tulips, alongside other wildlife, including native animals, blossomed in every corner and crevice of his vision.

His mind wandered while staring at the beautiful scenery, reflecting on the sunset's beautiful cotton candy and orange hue, fading slowly into the horizon. Fritz breathed in the clean air as it whisked past his face.

"Ahh, that feels nice. I wonder what type of people, or possibly peoples, I might meet here. After all, in this world, as I've come to realize, anyone can look like anything. There could be a thief in the night here, sly and cunning, living off his next steal in the real world, but look like a fucking baron in this one." he said, smiling at the thought.

"I seem to have lost track of time..Hmm, what day is it again? Heart and Hearth Day? I think I heard that somewhere. Hmm...Oh. Suddenly, the pretext as to why we are here quite possibly got a hell of a lot, well...weirder." he thought aloud.

Perhaps I shall greet some of the other participants. It's nice to make friends, even just for one day. He thought silently. There was a man standing next to an owl masked attendant it seemed, fawning over...grapes? Had he never had them before? As well as a apparently royal, by the looks of it, woman, who seemed to be disgusted by the fact that her feet were touching the ground. He chose the man, one because he did not like royalty or nobility, and two, he did not particularly like people who detested walking with their own two feet, because the pretext for that was ALSO weird.

"Ho! Good day!" he said in a normal voice, inclining his head slightly. That seemed to be the safest route.

Kade Anvar (If u want to)
 
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Rhydian felt an uncomfortable weight upon his face. Had something happened to his blindfold? Panicked, he reached up to touch it and felt the polished veneer of a face mask. A mask? For what reason? He traced the lines of the mask with his fingers, it seemed to be in the likeness of some kind of animal. A lynx? A coyote?

His robes felt the same, but he couldn't be sure. He tilted his head upwards to find the sun.

If I can just commune with it, I may be able to see...

But there was no sunlight. He would remain blind in this sunless place.

Rhydian sniffed the air. It was perfumed and sweet. Something soft touched his arm. He turned and felt a delicate hand place a glass in his. He held it as he felt the person depart, leaving him even more confused. He could smell the alcohol, but he did not trust it. He sensed a table near him. Gingerly, he set the glass down.

This won't do. I need to find a way to see where I am.

Rhydian took a step back and fell into a soft divan. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. He took a breath, bowed his head, and said a prayer.
 
Eyes flitted open, drinking in the garden hall before her. A small weight upon her face made her bring a delicate hand up to touch it. Fingers found resistance as she touched the mask that covered her features. She traced it, a fox? Astrid smiled softly, this smelled of fae magic, and she felt at home.

She walked forward, her feet bare against the ground. She was draped in a black gown, slit on both sides. Her collar was gone, it was almost freeing. The cwn slid silently through the small crowd, reaching for a glass from an elegantly dressed waiter. She sipped it quietly. Mortals were here, humans. She lifted a lip in disdain, their stench was aggravating. She almost wished Jago was here, he'd rip these humans to bits. She wondered who was pulling the strings of this dream reality, and yet she told herself to just go along with the ride. At least for now, mischief was afoot.
 
Ceilidh Trahan knew immediately that she had been pulled into a dream by Queen Mab. She knew the woman's dream signature almost as well as she knew the woman herself. It had been a long time since she had been pulled from her own dreams though and this was...different.

The first difference was the humans and the fact that she could not see her best friend anywhere. The second difference was that Ceilidh was much more pregnant in this dreamscape than in real life. She had only just figured it out and told the baby's father and Mab; yet, here she was at least six months along. The third difference was that she (and everyone else) had on a mask. Interesting.

The High Lady of the Winter Court wore a brilliant blue lace gown that swept the floor behind her and a mask that was studied with multicolored stones that glimmered in the light of the garden. Her white hair fell over her shoulders and down her back in a simple style. That was about right in dream and in waking. Her hair was either down or braided.

She scanned the room as she grabbed some water from a passing server. Even her dreams were out to make sure she stayed sober through this pregnancy.
 
The feeling was not an unfamiliar one - being drawn into the dreamscape by the powers of another. Asemir had spent the better part of several centuries experiencing just this at the whims of a certain Winter Queen. But so long ago had it happened last that he did not immediately recognize the situation until he appeared within the lavish hall and looked upon a setting that could not scream anything but Mab.

Asemir stifled a rueful chuckle, one that bit into a seedy humor he relegated only for these sorts of shenanigans. Once upon a time, Mab had entertained herself by dipping into his dreams at night and he couldn't say he minded the fact. More time with Mab had no downside in those days, even if they were in the midst of a disagreement.

But since his departure of the Winter Court he had not felt the touch of Mab's powers upon his dreams again. Tonight was a stark wake-up to the reality of their present reconciliation. He breathed a sigh of relief that lifted a dark cloud from his shoulders and mind and then promptly pulled the mask from his face.

Asemir didn't do masks.

To his utter delight and complete shock, Ceilidh Trahan was standing not but a few dozen feet away, glimmering and lovely as ever. But there was something curious about the way her dress draped about her. Instead of accentuating the pinch of her waist and the curve of her hips, it flowed gently over a robust bump at her middle.

His jaw dropped.

"...Cee?" What the fuck.
 
The minotaur drifted to consciousness to find himself in a place he didn't recognise, he immediately got to his feet, his hands up, his body tense and ready for a fight to see no one there, just these beautiful yet strange surroundings.

"Now where the fuck am I?" he would ask in a low tone, he would then realise the silvery metal mask on his face mould around his features that of a bull, looking down he wasn't dressed what he had fallen as sleep in but to find a black leather muscle cuirass over top of a chitoniskos decorated what seen to be bronze fittings. "what the fuck I am wearing" he would whisper take off the mask, he didn't have anything to hide.

Looking up again the room was now populated with people and from what he could see it see he stood the tallest amongst them though, whatever this magical bullshit is they better have stiff drinks, the minotaur as he marched to find the strongest piece alcohol could find.
 
Fritz just then realized. His head felt heavy, as if there was something on it. He raised his mildly calloused fingers and found another accessory. He went down it with his had tightly pressed together. After a bit, he still could not figure it out. He then accidentally split his middle and index finger. This caused him to poke himself in the eye. After a quick and quiet scream-whisper of pain, he had figured out two things.

One. This was fabric, and had two eye holes. It was also uncomfortable. What he was wearing seemed to be a mask for the eyes and such.

Looking around, he saw people able to take off the mask, so he did so as well. He was but a poor man, and there could be no possible way that any of these idiots and snobs knew of him. Of course, he was talking about royalty.

He discarded the mask.

Two. This party was planned. A Masquerade. In a dream. A Dream Masquerade. It was a very unique concept, but he didn't know one thing: How to stop the dream...he did not yet want to leave, but still...being trapped in here was not on his life schedule.

He walked over to a rather pregnant woman, asking her: "Alright, I can see by your ears and hair you aren't human and as such have a affinity for the magical I should assume. Who do you think is doing this? I was just sleeping one night in my "castle", when I woke up here, dressed in fine clothes and outfitted with a mask. I took it off though. No one could possibly know me." he said, gritting his teeth. It was because there were a couple of people that might know him that had the possibility of being pulled here, those being Selina Della Altas and his mentor, who was still working at his (Fritz's) bed-time.

It was just an unfortunate indicator he was lying though, not a problem he had that affected him daily. He didn't lie too much anyway, but he had to blend in.

"Also, congratulations! If they're (the baby) even half as beautiful as you, I'm sure the entire world will fawn. Yes, new life is exhilirating." he said with a bow.

"Oh, where are my manners. My name is not not Dune, but not Dune really, if that makes sense."

Ceilidh Trahan
 
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Griogair was drawn into mab's dreamscape, he had heard about her Affinity but was yet to experience until now and had no idea what to expect from the queen in this world of her own making. He was wearing a dark green kaftan with golden trim with black boots with similar trim. his mask took the shape of a golden wolf's head matching his animal form and the rest of his outfit.

He would spot Ceilidh and was surprised to see her so heavily pregnant in this world she looked like she was well into her pregnancy when it had been like a month and a half at most. He would come up behind her, his hand intertwining with hers, as a human was asking her question and congratulating her on her pregnancy.

"thank you, her beauty is hard to compare" he would say to the human, looking down at him as he stood nearly a foot and a half above him. his eyes would drift to the crowd and notice another Duanann staring at Cee, he had seen his face before in cee's painting around her house, Asemir. He glared at the man through his mask, not saying a word to Cee about who he had seen.

Fritz Erlain
 
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The changeling was center stage. It was a small, intimate circular stage made of polished stone. Vines wove around columns on all four sides. Fraeya sat atop an ornately carved stool with a stringed instrument in her hands. There was a pool of water next to the stage with lily pads and pale-pink water flowers and as she looked down, she was surprised to see the set of verdant eyes staring back at her. Blonde-locks were ornately wound back in a braid. She wore a dress that matched the greens of her eyes. A mask of deep orange, reds, and amber hugged her cheeks and bent over her nose. A fitting mask for an Autumn Court member.

But most surprising of all were her ears. They were pointed and not curved. She wasn't herself in this dream.

She was fae.

For a moment, her long fingers hesitated over the strings.

What the hell was happening?

Tearing her gaze away from the pool she looked to the small audience that had gathered. Forcing in a breath, she began to sing and play again, trying to resist the urge to bolt from the stage.

 
The music caught Rhydian's attention.

He immediately stood up and wound his way around the unusual party guests. He found the source of the music. He could sense a small space, perhaps a stage? And in the middle... the performer.

He listened, completely entranced by the music and for a moment, felt at peace.
 
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Man, these were good. Kade had no idea how he was imagining the taste of grapes (maybe...a combination of mango and some other fruit? Like a berry?) but he supposed it wouldn't matter. Soon as he woke up, Arethil would replace the dream, and the phantasmal taste of the "grape" would disappear not long after. Though, while it lasted, it sure did feel real.

Ho! Good day!

Kade glanced over. A blond-haired man was there. Sometimes familiar people popped up in your dreams, and not just family and friends. Somewhat random people too. Quite a few vendors and merchants seemed to haunt Kade's dream on occasion, forcing him to relive close calls and narrow escapes yet again. But here, in this case, Kade couldn't know if he'd chanced across the blond-haired man in Ragash before or not. Because of the masks.

Kade raised his free hand in a perfunctory wave, and spoke with a mouth now full of grapes, "Hello to you--"

The blond-haired man walked off. Over to another group of people.

"--too."

Kade shrugged. It was a dream. A lucid dream, but a dream. The odd and the extraordinary were to be expected.

In briefly watching the man go, Kade got a better look at some of the others populating the Crystal Hall. Most were masked (some weren't, heh, go figure) and most of them were tall. This was one of those dreams, huh? Though instead of inexplicably being naked, he had shrunk down to his little brother Tahir's size--a kid again.

Anyway. Kade would have a wander around the place in a bit. Maybe practice a little thievery, pull off some moves that'd be impossible in real life. Best part about a dream, if you got caught, you woke up. No hands getting chopped off.

Kade would do that.

Right after he polished off this tray of grapes.

Fritz Erlain
 
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The music that started to play suprised Fritz. "You two seem like you need to convene. I saw someone over there giving your lady the heart attack stare. He might be a elf or something as well, but It's too hard for me to see. Oh, you seem to already notice him, my good man."

"I do not want to get into the middle of any trouble, so I'll be going. Can we talk later? Good." he said, doing that (presumed by him.) noble thing where someone asked something and then automatically said good, sort of forcing them to agree.

It made him sick to have to do that, and he silently apologized. It was getting really hard to put up with himself. He had to yell something...not noble and wanted to do so, but not in here. He ducked into the bathroom and decided to silence these craving thoughts with a quick comement.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, DUNE, CONTROL YOURSELF. THIS IS A PARTY, AND ONLY FOR ONE DAY." he scolded himself, then ran back out onto the floor. The music was beautiful, and he decided to relax, having actually said a bad word anyway.

"Is this really what it's like? The life of a noble? No wonder they do all that stuff to us. They really have nothing to do but be political, talk to other royals about fancy stuff and make children." he sighed, silently thankful he wasn't born that way.

He probably would have ran away the second he could.

He noticed a couple of people looking at him. He reflected back as to why. He then realized he had never closed the door. Shit! people heard me cuss like the devil during a ROYAL party god dammit! He worried, after a while reabsorbing his attention to the music.

It was getting pretty shitty just sitting there, so he walked back to the Owl Masks and took some of the hors d'oeuvres, eventually ending at the man still standing there next to the guy who was still serving the man who REALLY wanted grapes. "Hi. May I have a Grape oh Lord of the Fruit?" he joked, bowing low.

Kade Anvar (This is my making my way back to u so we can rp post lol)
 
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Astrid perked up as the hulking form of a minotaur maneuvered into the room. She could tell he was perturbed, and a sly smile slid across her lips. If any night were the right night for fae mischief, this was it. Astrid would get her fill of it before the night was through.

She weaved fluidly through the crowd, following on the heels of the minotaur as he reached for a drink. She cleared her throat and leaned to get into his eye sight. "Excuse me, you know you probably shouldn't drink the stuff here. You might turn into a frog or something. Here, I'll test it out, I wouldn't mind spending time as an amphibian."

She took a sip of her drink, and waited a moment..and then another. "Oh! I guess it's safe!" A blinding flash, and then in front of the bull a white dog would stand. It would bark at the minotaur before trotting away and around a corner.

She shifted back once out of sight, giggles escaping her in waves. She wondered what the poor creature could possibly be thinking. She pulled the mask from her face to catch her breath, leaning against a pillar. She took a few deep breaths and collected herself, a few more giggles escaping her.

Trovik Half-horn
 
Ceilidh saw the shock and what the fuck on Asemir's face but she did not have time to go over to him before there was a human talking to her. She just stared down at him in silence as he rambled about things she did not care about. She, thankfully, did not have to reply to the human because she felt a hand slide into hers. Her love, her baby's father, her bodyguard...Griogair.

She wondered if Mab had grabbed him out of comfort for her or because they were sleeping next to each other. Either way she just smiled up at him, brought her free hand up to lift his mask, and kissed him softly on the lips. "I will be right back, I need to talk to Asemir," she said quietly so only he would hear her.

She took her hand from his as she walked over to Asemir with a hand resting atop her swollen belly. She kissed him on the cheek and then stepped back. "It is not yours," she said right off the bat because she had a feeling that would be the first question. "And I am also not this pregnant. I am only a month and half or so along right now. Your ex just thinks she is hilarious!" She grumbled looking over at the dreamscape.

Asemir
 
Life could be a dream
Sh-boom, if I could take you to a paradise up above
If you will tell me I'm the only one that you love
Life could be a dream, sweetheart, hello, hello again

Sh-boom and hopin' we'll meet again, boom

Elio opened his eyes, expecting to be at his desk, looking over his latest song. It was supposed to be one for lovers, he felt that it would be quite popular on Heart and Hearth Day. However, he had lost track of the days and was furiously engrossed with his work that by the time he had settled down, he was exhausted. He thought burning the midnight oil would be fine again, but even a cat sith had to sleep sometime.

Cool metal could be felt resting on his skin, and Elio gingerly touched it, feeling the outline of a magnificent bird. A mask. Interesting. And as his gimlet gaze looked about him he saw he was with others, dressed rather similarly in grand clothes that made a statement. His ensemble was mainly black with a long coat that resembled a cloak, swirls of beaded gold and silver began from his neck and shoulders to descend in lazy rivulets to his chest and filtered off along his waist. Black leather gloves and boots along with black slacks were demure enough keep the attention at his mask and the top of the coat.

Elio brushed his long hair behind his shoulders, understanding that this was a dream. And not just fae were invited. Which he enjoyed, even though he could tell others didn’t— such as the pregnant high fae woman who had discarded a human without a single look. The the corners of his mouth dipped ever so slightly, which could be seen as his mask only covered the upper half of his face.

Well, it was to be expected, Elio discovered long ago that vanity planted a seed of sin that arrogance nursed into a pretentious garden.

It was why his home was Dusk Court. Privacy? Check. Good job? Check. Egalitarian ideals? Check. And most importantly— peace. The ability for to sleep and to dream and to fully rest. Elio expected that if all fae could really sleep, really dream, then war would be forgotten. And perhaps empathy could actually grow among the fae.

Cat sith’s gaze wandered elsewhere, seeing a woman in green with a stringed instrument. Someone listening to her. There was that sense of peace. Pure, unblemished peace. A spark of muse struck him, and he frantically patted at his chest, hoping that his small journal was with him. A sigh of relief went over him, feeling it secure in his pocket as well as the usual piece of charcoal.

He pulled it out, ready to write more about how peace was the justice that everyone sought until…

Excuse me,” Elio said, easily side stepping out of the white dog’s way. No, not dog, but a cwn annwn. Well, humans, Minotaurs, duanann, cat siths, and cwn annwn were all invited? A slight shiver went over Elio, paranoia tickling at the back of his skull, but he looked over, at the pillar. He heard the giggle.

I hope you aren’t causing trouble for others,” the cat sith called out. After all, cats and dogs never got along, and sometimes it was fun to play into that trope. Call it his own sort of mischief, to do the expected, and to think up his own narrative entirely otherwise.

Astrid Bielke
 
Already Medja could tell that there were those among this crowd of an otherworldly nature. They carried themselves as if grander than their contemporaries and refused to intermingle with the mortals among them. As they congregated to each other Medja confirmed what she already believed: that the lowliest of fae would refuse to so much as converse with the most regal of mortals if not under duress.

What, then, was the bloody point of bringing both groups to one place? Perhaps the orchestrator of this grand affair thought it funny. Well, might as well make the most of this mess for however long she was stuck here.

With serene grace, the masked sorceress floated over to what appeared to be a young Kaliti man, presently in the process of stuffing his face with grapes. She pondered him a moment and mused that he seemed a tad familiar, but brushed it off. A totally unfamiliar blond man was standing near him, also partaking of the event's delicacies.
"You know..." She pointed to the fae that had apparently just been reduced to the form of a dog by similar consumption. "Something tells me that's unwise."
 
"What manner of witchcraft is this, do you think?"

She had fallen asleep holding the hand of the female standing next to her. She remembered doing so. Lucid dreams were a common occurrence for her, but this one felt..different. She wasn't entirely sure that her mind could conjure something quite like this, and the cold hand housed in hers felt solid and real.

Fallon's quicksilver gaze shifted around at the eclectic array of masked guests, and her head slowly shook in answer. "I.. I don't know." she frowned, the movement making her suddenly aware of the mask that covered the top half of her own face. Her free hand rose to touch at it, and her fingertips traced the far more subtle contours of a feline's face. A cat. Really?! Whomever the creator of this dreamscape, they clearly had a sense of humour. She glanced down to see what else she was wearing to find herself in a long, white dress that gently clung to her strong physique and glittered with crushed crystal.

The Garou finally turned to look at Victoria, her mouth parting to comment, but the sight of her caused whatever words she'd intended on speaking to turn to stone in her throat and her gaze took her in from toes to tits, and above that, obviously. It was indeed a shock to see her in such a colour of dress, again adding to the dream's humorous quirks. But.. "Fuck you're beautiful." she breathed out finally, her lips curling as she laughed.

"Well now I don't particularly care what's going on, I think I'll just dance with you instead." she smirked, and tugged the woman against her.

 
Already Medja could tell that there were those among this crowd of an otherworldly nature. They carried themselves as if grander than their contemporaries and refused to intermingle with the mortals among them. As they congregated to each other Medja confirmed what she already believed: that the lowliest of fae would refuse to so much as converse with the most regal of mortals if not under duress.

What, then, was the bloody point of bringing both groups to one place? Perhaps the orchestrator of this grand affair thought it funny. Well, might as well make the most of this mess for however long she was stuck here.

With serene grace, the masked sorceress floated over to what appeared to be a young Kaliti man, presently in the process of stuffing his face with grapes. She pondered him a moment and mused that he seemed a tad familiar, but brushed it off. A totally unfamiliar blond man was standing near him, also partaking of the event's delicacies.
"You know..." She pointed to the fae that had apparently just been reduced to the form of a dog by similar consumption. "Something tells me that's unwise."
"Oh...I couldn't even see him. He's fucking*- no, no, that's not noble talk. Very adorable...that's it." he said, catching himself. He always had a reverent love for the animals called man's best friend.

"I suppose then, that eating them would be unwise. Although, being a dog looks a lot more fun from a human's perspective, I will admit." he said, turning to the sudden speaker.

"I'm not not Dune, but not really Dune, if that makes sense. Were you dragged in here as well? It is rather unexpected, but a nice way to spend a otherwise intensely boring night. Hold on, I'll be back to you in a second. You seem magical, so I have a favor to ask of you."

He then turned back to the man who was gorging himself on grapes. "You eat like you have never had grapes before. Slow down, or you'll choke...that might put an premature end to your dream and by association your grape eating." he warned him quickly. he had wanted to continue the noble act and instead say a poor peasant, but since he was literally one himself, it made his stomach twist to use the phrase with scorn.

"My good sir," he said to the owl masked man. "Pass me your plate. Has this man been keeping you?" the Owl Mask nodded. "I'm sure you have other things to do, so give it to me and I'll put it on a table. I'm sure I can persuade your "captor" here to not find you and kill you." he joked. The man passed him the plate, giving him a grateful look through his mask.

Fritz set the platter on a free spot on a table. "Have at thee," he said, flourishing his arms. He gave a yawn and turned back to the Kali woman. "By the way, you look beautiful tonight. Your name is?" he said, thinking a compliment was the best way to start conversation while also bowing slightly in greeting.

"Actually, wait! I know you! You're that person that seemed disgusted by walking. At first, I thought that was a bit snobbish, as most and thought of slaves and such. You seem nice enough though." he said before flicking his hands over his mouth. "Sorry, how uncouth of me. This is my first time as a noble. No, no, I mean- Ughh....What the hell."


Medja Kade Anvar
*(As in the modifier to an adjective, not the action, In case anyone wondered)
OOC: His brain overclocked then fried, and he said something not akin to nobility. Asking the right question will reveal why. A game of sorts.
 
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What in the seven hells?

Asemir was not aware so many emotions could run the gamut through his thoughts in such a very, very short period of time. Shock, unease, grief, adoration, anger ... just to name a few. Something so incredibly important had happened to Ceilidh since their previous encounter - yet he'd heard not a single word about it? She couldn't have been pregnant when they were last together ... she'd have shown for sure if she was showing this much now. Who could have possibly done so if he had been the first Cee had shared time with coming out of her Grieving.

The man who had wrought wartime atrocities and stood as a revered and feared icon across the swathes of Arethil for several millennia stood rooted to the spot as the woman so casually strolled her way over after kissing a complete stranger and then leaned up to kiss his cheek. Such an act should have been met with warmth but instead-

"It's not yours."

Asemir's brow furrowed as he felt the line of his jaw grow taunt with tension. Followed by an explanation ... a very bad explanation. The Lord of the Lunar winds was not happy in this instance and he knew he should have been.

"Am I to understand-"

Some strange woman walked by, bleating obnoxiously at Ceilidh, and he paid her only a distracted and annoyed glance.

"-that you are continuing to punish me for not visiting you while you were in Mourning?"

She'd been avoiding him and he could tell. Asemir may have been busy with his Dusk Court responsibilities and near-drowning in the current devastation taking down Mirlorne Grove fae by fae, but he would have made time for Ceilidh to return a particularly valuable item to her if she'd only reached out to ask after it, or to visit if she'd but deigned to tell him of this pregnancy.

But she'd left him high and dry after that night. No word. No note. No communication since. He'd suspected it as part of her revenge against his absence from her mourning, but this felt as though it was taking things a step too far.
 
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Ceilidh nodded at the woman who had called her name before Asemir finished speaking. His question resulted in her just staring at him with her lips slightly parted. "What? No, of course not. I only found out about a week ago and I just told the father and Mab."

She knew why he was upset though. She had snuck out after their night together and they had not spoken since. She even knew he had the delicate chain that Traynor had given her and she still did not reach out to him.

Ceilidh took his hand and pulled him further away from everyone else. "Look, I have been painting a lot which means I have been drinking a lot. I spiraled and it was not pretty," her voice was low and hard. "It got so bad that Mab sent me a fucking bodyguard, Ase!" Her hand flicked back towards the tall redhead who she had kissed earlier. "Which resulted in this," she pointed to her stomach in exasperation.

"So no...I am not punishing you, Asemir. I have been busy, you have been busy, we have been busy. Shit happens." She knew full well that she was supposed to go to the Spring Coronation with Baenon and she had skipped out on that. Ceilidh really was a terrible friend. "I am sorry, I am a terrible friend," tears fell down her face.

Stupid. Fucking. Pregnancy. Hormones.
 
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