Open Chronicles Once Upon A Dream

[Asemir]

Just told the father ... fair.

And Mab ... not quite as fair.

Asemir's dour expression did not leaven. Normally a fae, even one such as himself, would not have given a one-night-stand a second thought. Prolific as the fae were, such things were a commodity. Normal, even. But this was Cece - they had history, they had been quite close friends for many millennia. Best friends of one anothers' mates. There for one another through the highs and lows.

He could not help the feeling that he'd been ... used and discarded.

Allowing the woman to steer him away from the crowd, he listened to the story and found they felt more like excuses. A child born from a dalliance with her bodyguard? Well, he supposed there had been worse origin stories than that. The glower on his face deepened the moment tears began leaking from her eyes. Godsdamnit Cee. Shit happens?

Shit happens?

Pregnancies did not just happen among the fae. Especially among duannan. They had to actively try for that. What was she playing at? That she hit the impossible lottery in one go?

The crying got worse. Asemir sighed and forced himself to look away for a moment. The urge to be mad was a strong one, but hell if he could do that to Cee in a moment of something that should have been joyous.

"Yes," he nodded, lifted his hands to her shoulders and pulled the smaller woman to him, gathering her into a firm embrace, "you are." A statement only a loving friend would make, "I suspect we both are and what a pair we make. Don't cry, you know its just going to smudge your makeup and then the night is ruined."

"I'm overjoyed for you Cee, I promise," words muttered into her hair where he pressed a warm kiss of his own, "it's what you have dreamed of for so long."

 

[Astrid Bielke]

Astrid had finally collected herself from her fit of giggles. She hadn't been able to have a jest like that in ages. She could never play with Cas like that, he was sensitive. She could never dare to do such things with the other members of the Sluagh either, lest She wanted to find herself beat and broken.

A voice reached her perceptive ears, and she leaned out from behind the pillar. Curiosity brought her completely away as she sought out who had spoken. He was hard to miss, the mask of bird rested on his face, his clothes a gorgeous statement of dress. He was the one she had passed in dog form. She approached him carefully a coy smile on her lips. He was fae, though she had never met him before.

In short time, she was in front of him and it became clear what he truly was. The smell of a Cat Sith was unmistakable. She walked a slow circle around him, her eyes following any move he might make. Face to face again, she paused. "It's a dream, who cares. It's fun to tease them. If it were a hunt they'd be between the teeth of the shucks. I'm surprised you called out to me, cats and dogs don't typically mix. I would have thought you'd avoid me at all costs."

Elio

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

Ceilidh laughed quietly into his chest. She had been having a hard time since she came back into society. The whole being social and remembering to reach out to her friends was an adjustment. She really did not mean to leave Ase out of her announcements. Hopefully he would forget the dream and she would be able to get the letter to him. Yep, that would work.

She had finally stopped crying and, of course, her makeup was still perfect. "I love you, Ase. I am sorry for everything. I should not have disappeared the next morning. I was just..." She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "Scared. I had not been with anyone since Traynor died and I had chosen his best friend..."

She pulled back from him and smiled a small smile. "On the bright side, I have been sober since I found out about the baby. Griogair has been great. Things are looking up again, I hope..."

 

[Mab]

So many had come to play in the music box.

Incorporeal, invisible, and silent, Mab swept through the halls of dreams, adjusting this or adding that as she went. It was already shaping up to be a delightfully messy evening. What a variety were gathered here! And what of those yet to come? It was too exciting! She had to focus on the tasks at hand, however; managing so many dreams at once was no small feat.

Though she had collaborated with five other duanann of various affinities to select a very specific group of dreamers, Mab herself had sent her magick out into the leys and let chaos do the job of picking for her.

Mostly.

Duanann of Luck, Beauty, Love, Victory, and Medicine had each made some interesting selections for tonight's attendees. Not that she knew to who these picks belonged. That was the fun part: the unknown, the risk, the unadulterated freedom of the dreams they wove.

It was all very complicated and delicate magick. Mab had exerted a great deal of strength to pull off this little trick, and wouldn't be sleeping for the next month at least. But now that they were here, the dream more or less made itself around their thoughts and expectations. What they saw, felt, tasted, heard -- all of it would be simulated by the music box to satisfy their expectations (even if only for a moment). Lazy, perhaps, but highly effective.

Then there were her additions of chaos. Sweet, lovely chaos. Undetected, Mab moved between bodies like a ghost. She looked over the room and her mind ran through their dreams not unlike a chef flipped through their recipe catalogue. Who to descend upon…

In the end it was not difficult to pick. She saw a minotaur, which surprised even Mab, and drifted over to observe. Confusion. Removing his mask. (Tsk tsk!) And was that unease? Doubt? No, no. That wouldn't do. She was contemplating how to shape this dream when the cwn female approached him with a warning that was much too clever. To match the warning was a very cheeky joke of using her dog shape to fake the questionable potion.

Mab snickered to herself. She lifted her hands and there was a gleam of silvery light over the minotaur as she adjusted the threads that guided him. This dream was shaped partly by his mind, but she could tug the strings a little. Shaping, pulling, leading.

Trovik Half-horn - When you next drink from a cup offered in this dream, you will find yourself transformed. Into what, even Mab isn't certain. It will definitely not be a bull. Perhaps... something with more pizazz? An elf? A cat? A peacock? It will be exciting to be sure!

With that done, Mab sat back proudly and began to prowl for her next plaything. Whether or not the minotaur had fun wasn't her concern. She would be amused by it, which was this evening's target audience.

 

[Rhydian Fairwater]

There were too many Fae here, and the music no longer brought Rhydian peace or pleasure. He was listening with a tuned ear to the gossip of the Fae, and it made his skin crawl. He needed to get out of here and go home, but how, if he could not see?

He began to pray:

Tuli'agh, even in shadow you bring light.
In the winter, you bring heat.
And in water you are the sands atop the firmament.

Grant me your reserves of power.
Offer me my sun sight.
Let me be your eyes.

Behind the mask, Rhydian's blind eyes began to see. Only the shapes and visages of those around him colored by red, orange and white light, but this was his sight. The sight offered him by the lesser known God of the Desert Sands. His breathing slowed as he took in the chaos of the surroundings. It was a deceptive party, and an unsafe place.

He stood up and immediately noticed a young Ragashan woman. This was Medja, the sorceress of the court. He had never had reason to converse with her until now. Perhaps he could trust her in this horribly foreign dreamscape.

He padded barefoot through the soirée towards the sorceress who was floating amongst the crowd. He stopped in front of her. Her armlets were incredible, and she was beautiful, but could he trust her?

"Please forgive my intrusion if you are enjoying this party, but I do not know who to turn to, and I do not think we were brought here as friends of the Fae".

 

[Griogair Llywelyn]

Griogair would watch Cee as she interacted with Asemir, the kiss on the cheek and the hug, he didn't know what they were talking about but he would be lying if he didn't feel jealous and threatened by the man he saw before him. from what he knew they had been friends for many millennia and somewhat recently slept together even if it was a one night stand.

He wasn't about to stand and brood in the corner whilst his love conversed with his poetional biggest rival. he would approach the two of them, Cee and Ase, his hand wrapping around Cee waist "care to introduce me to this stranger?" he would give a warm smile to both of them but his eyes would be cold looking upon Ase.

Ceilidh Trahan Asemir

 

[Melisandre]

Elio sniffed, the fox mask suited this cwn. Tricky little thing, thinking a coy smile would subdue him. His small journal and charcoal were still in his hands, and when she finally stopped inspecting him like some vulture stalking around a piece of meat, he peered down at her. A brow had quirked up but that was hidden by his mask.

“I called out to you because I can afford to,” Elio began, a faint smile on his lips and he continued to loom over the cwn annwn. “You’re quite like a daisy, white petals to feign purity while that yellow core of yours causes mischief. You’re dainty like a flower as well.” He finished, and then closed the journal, hiding it into back into his breast pocket along with his piece of charcoal. “Those who are confident tend to be more open, don’t you agree, Little One?” The faint smile was still there, and despite his words having a rather smug connotation, the cat sith plucked two drinks from the tray of an ‘owl.’ He handed one to Astrid, a token of amiability, if only for tonight.

“I often find parties of the fae to be frivolous and I never attend them, it’s been years since I’ve had a drink. If it is a dream, then surely this will keep me from breaking my sobriety streak?” A playful tone had come to Elio now, and he took a sip of the sparkling liquid. He paused, tasting it, holding it in his mouth for a few seconds before finally swallowing. He didn’t had much of a reaction when he did, but he did drink from his glass again.

Astrid Bielke

 

[Asemir]

Stranger.

Bold. Or stupid. He couldn't be sure which.

The cold gaze and possessive gesture spoke volumes on the young man's immaturity. Father of Ceilidh's son? This child? Asemir hoped it wasn't meant to go beyond mere sperm donation, but apparently there was some level of attachment involved. At the hip. He was vaguely reminded of his own youth and for the most fleeting moment he almost felt proud of the man for nailing an older woman.

Then he remembered that the older woman was Ceilidh, his own close and longtime friend and the mate of his late best friend.

"Hmm," Asemir's brow lowered over his own blue stare, but it could hardly be called a cold gaze. More of a calm, studying, scrutinizing gaze.

"Lord Kor Aren," he decided after only a moment of thought not to lay his history of countless titles and accolades on the man and stuck with only that which was relevant present day, "Triumvir of the Dusk Court."

Griogair would not be getting to address him in a casual manner until he'd proven himself. So far all he knew of the boy was that he could get a woman pregnant.

 

[Fraeya]

Finishing off the song, she began another. Fraeya thought it fitting as she observed a few things out in the wider audience:

A pregnant fae female surrounded by two males who looked like they were about to enter a pissing match. Mischief alighting the eyes of several others.
Relationships budding between several humans.
The one who came briefly to hear her sing going off to pray to whatever god or goddess he worshipped.

All relationships of different sorts. As she finished the last note of her song, she felt an intimate touch of lips along her cheek, just below the autumn-colored mask. Goosebumps trickled down her flesh as her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Eyes shifted over and upward to see the Erlking standing next to her, his voice like crackling leaves and decay as he whispered, 'My darling come back to me.'

She jerked so hard so fast that she and the stool fell onto the stage with a loud CRACK.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Fallon’s dazzling dress sparkled in Victoria’s eyes. She allowed herself a similar sweeping look of her partner and unconsciously hooked a single fang over her bottom lip. The look only broke as she was pulled to the woman’s side with a smile and a soft laugh, flashing moon-white fangs through her scarlet lips. The thick liquid in her cup sloshed precariously but, somehow, did not spill.

“Then come, kitten,” she teased her fingers up and over the pointed cat ears of Fallon’s mask before leading her to the place where Fraeya was singing. It was a lovely sound, perhaps made even more lovely by whatever unreality they had set foot in. Everything did seem so easy here, from the attendant who appeared just as she needed to hand off her glass, to the illuminating flames that caused no glare in her undead eyes, nor prickled the back of her neck with their oppressive heat.

She looped her arms over Fallon’s shoulders and, in between admiring glances of her dancing partner, peered out across the gathered crowd as they turned. There were a great many very tall and very beautiful people. Their features were close to elven, carrying the same weightless grace that Fallon’s body held, but there was something different about them, something that made them seem quite a bit more attuned to this place than reality.

There were humans here, she could scent them on the air, only three of which were in her view now: a rather fast-paced young man of blonde hair, a stunning sorceress who glided effortlessly, and another man who seemed preoccupied with the hors d'oeuvres.

“Oh, my!” she exclaimed in whispered wonder as her view passed to the minotaur, a race that she had gained an appreciation for after one proved himself so very useful at solving problems with smashing.

“Do you think this is a dream, my love, or have we been pulled into the aether? Why, I wonder. What could we possibly share with all these others?”

As quickly as it started, the music stopped. Their entertainer looked alarmed and Victoria, still turning in the arms of Fallon, gave Fraeya a most quizzical look and stifled a laugh. "Should we help the poor girl?" A most unusual turn of events for her to feel empathy, but the dancing had been so nice, and she didn't want the music to stop so soon.

 

[Trovik Half-horn]

Trovik finally found what he was looking for, a large mug filled with brown liquid resembled an ale he was about to take a swig of it when what appeared to be a human to him came up to him warning about drinking the delicious-looking ale "Go ahead I guess" he would reply watch the woman seemed fine then with a flash she turned into a dog "uuuuhhhhh" he stared into the brown liquid and whimpered.

"I don't want to be sober but i don't want to be a dog either, fuck it" he closed his eyes and drank from the mug and waited and waited, he didn't feel any different, opening his eyes the world seemed slightly.. bigger than he remembers a dozen seconds ago. then he noticed his hand were different lass hairy and had five digits, he reached for his face not feeling his snout but a nose and lips, he was human and 6'1 "I'm human!!" he shouted with a mix of panic, anger and disgust.

He was going to find who had done this to him and make them turn him back. he wasn't going to be a human for too long not if he could help it.

 

[Kade Anvar]

Kade had zero awareness of anyone of extraordinary power or standing among the celebrants. This was just a dream, after all. His dream, and his alone, as a matter of fact.

And these grapes were fantastic.

What do you call the other people in your dreams? Was there a special word for it? Probably. Scholars loved to invent a bunch of words for very specific ideas, words that Kade would sometimes pick up whilst roaming the streets of Ragash, and echo incorrectly for some comedic effect at a later date. It was about the best he could do with "College" words.

Point was: the Blond-Man was back. Joking about the grapes, and Kade being the lord thereof.

"Help yourself." With a stuffed mouth, it sounded more like he'd said hup urself.

Kade swallowed. And just in time too, because, even with all of the masks, Kade knew exactly who had come up next. He heard her voice, not quite registering it yet, turned to look--

And flinched hard.

So hard that his hand banged into the plate of grapes the Owl-masked man was passing to Fritz. He yelped, holding his wrist and shaking his sore hand vigorously. Despite it all, the shock was immense. The Empress herself. Let's say that again for emphasis: THE EMPRESS HERSELF just float-waltzed into his dream.

...His dream. But, hot sands, did everything feel so real. Those grapes, even though he couldn't be sure of the flavor, seemed real enough. The pain in his hand sure as hell felt real enough. A sinking feeling descended on him. This...this was a dream, wasn't it?

Kade glanced from Medja, to Fritz, to even another newcomer (Rhydian) who'd come and spoke. Both Fritz and Rhydian had spoken. But figuring this out took precedence. Everybody said this worked. Everybody he knew said this worked. So it had to work. Everybody wouldn't say this if they were wrong...right?

Kade, without warning, reached out and pinched Fritz.

And he pinched Rhydian as well.

"Now do me," he said to both of them, a small urgency in his tone. "Pinch me. Hard. Hard as you can."

Now, Kade would've pinched Medja too--three's a good number for a confirmation after all. But, if this wasn't a dream...pinching THE EMPRESS HERSELF was probably a worse idea than stealing pistachios from someone with the moniker of "The Executioner."

Fritz Erlain Rhydian Fairwater Medja

 

[Fritz Erlain]

"Kade had zero awareness of anyone of extraordinary power or standing among the celebrants. This was just a dream, after all. His dream, and his alone, as a matter of fact.

And these grapes were fantastic.

What do you call the other people in your dreams? Was there a special word for it? Probably. Scholars loved to invent a bunch of words for very specific ideas, words that Kade would sometimes pick up whilst roaming the streets of Ragash, and echo incorrectly for some comedic effect at a later date. It was about the best he could do with "College" words.

Point was: the Blond-Man was back. Joking about the grapes, and Kade being the lord thereof.

"Help yourself." With a stuffed mouth, it sounded more like he'd said hup urself.

Kade swallowed. And just in time too, because, even with all of the masks, Kade knew exactly who had come up next. He heard her voice, not quite registering it yet, turned to look--

And flinched hard.

So hard that his hand banged into the plate of grapes the Owl-masked man was passing to Fritz. He yelped, holding his wrist and shaking his sore hand vigorously. Despite it all, the shock was immense. The Empress herself. Let's say that again for emphasis: THE EMPRESS HERSELF just float-waltzed into his dream.

...His dream. But, hot sands, did everything feel so real. Those grapes, even though he couldn't be sure of the flavor, seemed real enough. The pain in his hand sure as hell felt real enough. A sinking feeling descended on him. This...this was a dream, wasn't it?

Kade glanced from Medja, to Fritz, to even another newcomer (Rhydian) who'd come and spoke. Both Fritz and Rhydian had spoken. But figuring this out took precedence. Everybody said this worked. Everybody he knew said this worked. So it had to work. Everybody wouldn't say this if they were wrong...right?

Kade, without warning, reached out and pinched Fritz.

And he pinched Rhydian as well.

"Now do me," he said to both of them, a small urgency in his tone. "Pinch me. Hard. Hard as you can."

Now, Kade would've pinched Medja too--three's a good number for a confirmation after all. But, if this wasn't a dream...pinching THE EMPRESS HERSELF was probably a worse idea than stealing pistachios from someone with the moniker of "The Executioner."

Fritz Erlain Rhydian Fairwater Medja

"Ooh, are you ok? That looked like that hurt. What could have gotten you so ruffled? OW!" he said, feeling the pinch of the Grape-man's fingers and looking at the red spot that came.

"Pinch you? That seems a bit light for a complex dream like this. If you think physical pain will stop this, I guess...well, just want you to remember you asked for it." He said, winding back.

I'm very sorry for this, dude. He thought as his hand hit the man's face in a resounding slap.

"Oh, that was a bad idea. Why didn't I just pinch the guy? I guess being so restrained and all while pretending to- nono, being a noble left a lot of energy in my hands and stuff. I'm actually starting to miss my job for real. Wait, these people don't have jobs, do they? Oh god. I'm pathetic." He said, slapping himself across the face.

"I guess...no, I'm not going to say anything. I've embarrassed myself enough. So, to our little blind friend here. You know this woman? From the looks of it, Grape-man does too, considering he just hit his head on a metal plate after seeing her." he said breezily, continuing quickly.

"She looks like a person of importance. Hey, I know I just slapped you, but that was sort of not what I meant to do. Do you know anything? I mean, she is quite the beauty, but it must be something else...You are Kalit, right? You seem sort of powerful by what you wear, and you look scared of her."

"That means she must be really high up. Queen? Empress?"

Fritz's hand started to tremble and he felt like kicking over the table. He tried to control himself and asked a dull question one of his station had to ask, probably. "So, if anyone is willing to share, Id be open." he said, the rumbling feeling leaving him for now.

Whew, I brought it down. Remain Calm and no more screwups!

Rhydian Fairwater

 

[Rhydian Fairwater]

Rhydian couldn't believe what was happening. The young man had pinched him, and now this clown, who was clearly pretending to be a noble, had brought his performance right to their feet.

Rhydian sighed and turned his attention from Medja to the young blond.

"I am not a little blind friend. I am Rhydian, High Priest of Tuli'agh." He scowled.

"And this... is Medja, High Sorceress of the Emperor's Court, the God King's Hands. You would do well to pay her some respect. She could kill you without lifting a hand of her own."

Luckily these two men did not feel like threats. Rhydian realized despite his consternation, he felt comfortable in their company.

"Hear me, I do not think this is a safe place for those of us who are not Fae, and speaking for myself, I do not wish to be here any longer."

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Rhydian couldn't believe what was happening. The young man had pinched him, and now this clown, who was clearly pretending to be a noble, had brought his performance right to their feet.

Rhydian sighed and turned his attention from Medja to the young blond.

"I am not a little blind friend. I am Rhydian, High Priest of Tuli'agh." He scowled.

"And this... is Medja, High Sorceress of the Emperor's Court, the God King's Hands. You would do well to pay her some respect. She could kill you without lifting a hand of her own."

Luckily these two men did not feel like threats. Rhydian realized despite his consternation, he felt comfortable in their company.

"Hear me, I do not think this is a safe place for those of us who are not Fae, and speaking for myself, I do not wish to be here any longer."

"Kill without lifting a hand. Hmm, I think I may have had an ingenious idea. Rhydian, this may be momentarily painful, but honestly the more painful the more likely I wager, stand infront of Medja."

Medja ,High Sorceress of the Emperor's Court, I am sorry to have disrespected you. Far be it from me." he said. "But, I have a favor to ask. Rhydian wants to leave this place. Would it be in your power to kill him, in the dream of course, and make it hurt badly enough he gets out of the dream?"

"He turned back to the seemingly blind man: "IF you want to of course."

"I seem to have a saber, but I bet whoever would dress someone like me in something like this did not intend it to be used. Of course, we could also not do this, and instead figure out another way. On that subject, I happen to hear odd whishing sounds, but do not see anyone. It's very strange...a presence of sorts."

"I believe it is the creator of this event, as well as the only one who can painlessly get us out."

"I personally wish to exit as well, but I should stick around. Fake responsibility and all that bullshit."

Kade Anvar

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

Ceilidh smiled as Griogair joined them. She was excited to introduce him to her longtime friend but as soon as he purposely called Asemir a stranger, she was immediately reminded how young he was. Fuck, she thought. Griogair knew full well who Ase was.

She also knew that judgement when Asemir let out his signature hmmm. He hated him already. Hopefully they would wake up and forget any of this happened in Mab’s little dream party. Where the fuck was Mab?!

“Lord Kor Aren is one of my closest friends and he was the best friend of my late husband,” her tone was as steady as Ase’s had been but there was a threat underneath it. If Griogair pissed Asemir off then there was no future for the two of them. He would see his child, of course, but that was it.

Asemir Griogair Llywelyn

 

[Medja]

There was...a lot to take in unfurling in front of Medja right now. Much conversation, much tomfoolery, and much apparent fae meddling if the spontaneously transmogrifying minotaur was anything to go off of. At the very least, based on both Rhydian's and Kade's response it seemed that others could recognize Medja's majesty even through masks, dream worlds, and...blindness? This place grew ever stranger by the moment.

Medja quirked her lips up into a smirk at Kade's response in particular.
"If you can taste the grapes, I doubt any physical shock is going to shake you, or anyone else from this stupor," She mused, before glancing at the frenetic blond man. "and if centuries of sorcerous knowledge are anything to go off of, I'd say dying in here is likely a terrible idea."

Aloof and disinterested in the dealings and drama of the fae, she turned her head to Rhydian, folding her arms across her chest. Again, a small smile quirked her lips.
"You know my name, and are somewhat aware of my status. I am impressed, Rhydian. Though I must say, your information is outdated." Not all could be as deeply drenched in knowledge as Medja was. These fae would be apt to learn from her example. "I am Empress now. Though your assessment of my magical prowess is accurate."

She offered a wink to the group, unsure of whether or not Rhydian could appreciate it. Still, the longer she floated in this place, the more bothered she became. Surely there was some purpose beyond petty mischief that both mortals and fae alike were brought here, right? Hundreds be, the nature of the fae irked her. So much magic at their fingertips and yet they failed to do anything of worth in their millennia of existence. How satisfying it would be to denigrate one of these unseelie whelps.

 

[Astrid Bielke]

Astrid looked up at the cat sith, she hadn't had the luck of meeting such a fae before. Though, perhaps in any other place, it wouldn't be so amicable. His words were as smooth as his movements, she was slightly entranced by him. He was different, and different made her curious. He wasn't like her cwn kin, and a far cry from the vicious shucks.

Astrid could feel her cheeks grow flushed as he compared her to a flower, soft and delicate. She laughed softly and smiled up at him. "You words are smooth like wine, I almost feel flattered." She raised an eyebrow as he called her Little One, though she did not dislike it. "I would have to agree with you on that. Though you should know, in the real world I'm quite different. This is a dream, I can be who I want, and do as I please."

She took the offered drink and nodded. "Even if it doesn't count, I won't say a word. I promise." She laughed softly again as she took a sip, savoring the taste. She stepped closer to Elio, that coy smile crossing her lips again. "Since I have no interest in the humans, or the stuffy Duananns, I think I'll stick with you through this dream, if that's alright with you? My name's Astrid, by the way. "

Elio

 

[Kade Anvar]

He asked for a pinch, and he got a punch.

Alright, not a punch, that was hyperbolic, but in the initial shock of getting slapped when he expected something lighter it might as well have been. His flimsy mask hadn't done all that much to stop it. Kade whipped up his non-sore hand to the fresh red mark on his face, his shock and surprise evident.

"Ow! I said pinch, man, pinch, not--"

But the Blond-Man was busy talking to himself. Bewildering enough on its own. And then he hauled off and slapped himself. To be fair, no one ever said pinching or slapping yourself in a lucid dream to wake up wouldn't work. The results spoke for themselves though.

Kade hadn't woken up. No one was waking up. He couldn't explain it, he knew as much as a beetle did about a pyramid regarding this whole ordeal, but the realization was dawning on him.

The Blond Man, Rhydian the High Priest, the Empress Medja. Kade glanced to the three of them, vaguely taking note of the abnormally tall men and women populating the rest of the party. All of them were real. This was real.

Kade brought a hand to his forehead and looked as though his knees might buckle.

"I'm really here," he said to himself. Breathless. "I don't know where here is and I'm really here..."

At least with the Tower of Tribulations, he knew exactly what he had gotten himself into. Here?

He swallowed nervously, forgetting entirely in the moment the delicious taste of the grapes.

Fritz Erlain Rhydian Fairwater Medja

 

[Ameris]

Ameris looked around the room and frowned. Unlike his father, Ameris had never been in a dream curated by Queen Mab. He looked around the room where fae and mortals were mingling. This was certainly the most interesting dream he had ever had before. Admittingly, most of his years were spent being black out drunk and, therefore, he didn't dream. New experiences, he supposed.

The former Summer male looked down in surprise to find himself wearing attire that was appropriate for this type gala. It was like nothing he had ever worn before and he thought it suited him quite well. What did not suit him was the mask.

Ameris didn't do masks.

He threw the mask aside with a sneer before grabbing a drink from a passing tray. His father, Asemir, had been limiting his alcohol consumption and he was more than a little pissed off about it. This was his dream though. There would be alcohol in those glasses. This wouldn't be too terrible.

Ameris brought the glass to his lips and groaned. Water. His father was out to get him in the dream world too and that was bullshit. He held the glass and looked around the room at the masked guests. He glowered when he saw Asemir and headed in that direction. At least he would play nice with the man...for now. They were both still very strained in their relationship.

Asemir

 

[Zafrila Dhular]

The slight tilt and sway of the ship had the usual effect on the woman. Slowly sweeping her into the dream sleep that welcomed her into the night. The nightly trade of duties outside the cabin falling away from the world as tendrils latched into her mind.

Ushering her away into a fantasy scape that she could never have dreamed up in a fever pitched dream.

The beauty and scenery was something out of a book. Or at least she guessed given she hadn't actually hadn't perused the pages of such a thing. Gardens in full bloom as well as the shrubbery around all of that. Her singular eye scanned the area, seeing others gathered around the place. The gentle swath of a large dress beginning at the nap of her neck and sweeping several steps behind her. The glittering emerald green of the fabric accented with gold and black trim and flowers.

The eye patch wielding a singular silvery flowery insignia paired with diamond shaped jewelry in her ears.

She extended a hand, noticing the same green material in a sheer glove over the black colored nails beneath. Confusion rocked her as she purveyed the surrounding environment. A strange one in the mildest of terms, she examined the healthy plants and active beings around her. Most seemed excited, even engaging with one another to some degree as she set herself to the side to figure out exactly what was happening.

She had been aboard a ship just moments ago.

Had been listening to the deckhands speak about conditions.

Her hand rose to her chin, singular eye focusing on the floor before her as nothing about the scene before her made sense. She wasn't to make any sort of landfall by their charts for another month at least. Never mind her having already been on land and invited to some grandiose gathering.

Being from the Black Bay should have disinclined Zaf from invited to any sort of gathering.

Anyone with half a brain would have figured her out pretty quickly.

 

[Fynaurie]

As naive, excitable and curious as any creature of Arethil, Fynaurie stepped down into the hall. She was entranced by the music, by the colours emerging from the crystal pillars that splashed across the floor.

Her nature was almost certainly why she was here.

The dream felt far too real. She had a wild imagination, but even this was a step too far. Instead of panic, this instead brought the young Eagle rider great joy.

Patrols had become mundane. Her people kept isolated from the world and she watched the outside from a great height. Her thick and heavy riding leathers had been replaced by a silken dress of sheer fabric that felt weightless.

She stopped near the middle of the room, a grin fixed beneath her mask, and slowly turned to try and take it all in.

 

[Michael Frost]

Michael was pulled into the magic of the dreamscape, he was fully unaware of what was really happening. He was assuming he was truly in a dream, and would not know otherwise. He looked down at his attire, it was a far cry from his patched clothes. He fidgeted uncomfortably, the silk feeling strange on his skin. He gently touched the mask on his face, tracing it with calloused fingers. He discerned it was a wolf, and thought about removing it.

He paused and looked around him, noting many different kinds of people. No, the mask would stay on. He drifted further in, a compulsion he couldn't seem to stop. He stepped past others, making his way to a corner to make himself as small and invisible as possible.

Zeal

 

[Mab]

She could not have instigated more mayhem if she had tried. Mab rolled with laughter when the minotaur brazenly drank from the glass -- and turned human! Oh, she was absolutely marvelous! She stood and admired the handiwork of her craft, congratulating herself for his good looks, the unexpected twist, and his appalled expression. Stunning work, Mab. She flitted away to her next project.

Delun's pet was here. And as a fae? Interesting. Mab was fascinated by the Bookkeeper's changeling, an object of great curiosity she had not yet gotten to indulge beyond rumors and gossip. What a complicated love-hate relationship she had with the fae.

She was stunning. She'd indulge her fantasy. Mab swirled around her makeshift stage, stirring up the adoration of the crowd. Fraeya's music was sweet and enchanting, truly something fitting in a wonderland such as this.

No one else but Mab could see the spectre that frightened Fraeya in the final notes of her ballad. None of them were the puppetmaster of this dream. A ghost of the Erlking appeared and, with a gentle kiss against the girl's cheek, whispered a sweet invitation.

Oh. Now this was good!

She snapped her fingers and the room paused. Everything and everyone was suspended in between moments. She needed a moment to think before the moment was lost. Mab was conflicted. On the one hand: the frightening nightmare of the Erlking exposing this girl's darkest secret desires. On the other, a harmless fantasy...

Stroking Fraeya's silver strings and smiling mischievously, Mab looked around the dream for someone to play the starring role of this illusion.

And like a beacon in the dead of night he appeared. Ameris. The one and only son of her friend Asemir. One look in his line of sight and Mab knew that no, no. This would not work. Asemir was not to be bothered here. She had a much better occupation for him. Besides, he was so pretty; he would fill the role so well.

Like a zephyr, she slipped between bodies to touch Ameris. Her fingers caressed the strings of this puppet. They sang like the chords of a harp and, across the hall, Fraeya's hummed back in sweet harmony. Cloaking Ameris in magick, she moved him to the audience around the stage, replacing Fraeya's phantom of Midir. She touched his eyes, then Fraeya's, and the dream resumed.

Beauty and bliss fogged their eyes.

​

Fraeya - Midir is here! The veil of illusion has been drawn over your eyes. Indulge in your fantasy, girl. The dream will slightly modify how you receive input from "the Erlking" to make it more authentic.

​

Ameris - Who is this beautiful woman you've laid eyes upon? She is something out of your wildest dreams, the veil of illusion drawn over your eyes as well. You know her and are compelled to speak to her so strangely, as if there is some deep history and connection between you. Play your part well and live a dream you've never held in life.

What a lovely modification. Mab drifted back to watch the first moments of this little production of lovers reunited from the crowd of mystified onlookers.

 

[Fraeya]

Perhaps all this time she’s gotten it wrong and Midir wasn’t the one she should be fearing. It should’ve been Mab. If only she’d been aware of the Winter Queen machinations. But she wasn’t. So that was neither here nor there.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A red-headed beauty with pale skin and for a moment she wondered if it was someone from the Lusce family. But she was dancing with an equally beautiful muscular female with white-dreads. Couldn't be. Even in a fantasy dream a night court member doing that would be pretty dangerous.

She blinked. She was sprawled on the floor. The stool knocked over. Her stringed instrument scattered across the small stage. Heat crept up her cheeks but luckily the mask covered a good portion of her fair skin. But Midir wasn’t…head turned toward her instrument. And the color that had been on her face immediately disappeared. There he was. I’m the crowd. Right by her instrument.

Staring.

The tattoo that marked her bargain with him seemed to burn along her neck for a moment. Tongue darted out to wet her chapped lips as she stood and brushed herself off. Part of her wanted to go the other direction. Flee immediately! Forget the instrument.

The other part of her wanted to face him head on. The stupid, foolish part of her. Then again, she knew deep down, that was the only way to face the autumn king. So, she went toward him. Toward that cursed instrument on the ground before him.

Ameris

At least her fae disguise was still up.