Open Chronicles Once Upon A Dream

[Mab]

Asemir's look of surprise was divine. Mab smiled, but the mischief in it melted away. They were alone here, in a way that they never could be in the waking world. There was always someone watching, someone listening. There was always her better senses getting in the way of what she really wanted to say.

She had machinations of another dance. She thought, perhaps, she could thank him for his kind gift earlier today. She expected that she could talk to him with an honestly she hadn't in a long time. She needed that.

Instead, his brow furrowed. She heard the pensive flatness of his tone. That was familiar. Mab frowned in confusion at Asemir. Before she could pull the threads to read where his emotions were going, he closed the space between them. Mab's heart leapt and the tempo of the music in the dream below and around them kicked up to something more lively. She took a step back and drew a shallow, weak breath and stepped back. Only one step before he came closer. He caught her hand -- caught more than that as he drew her near, drew her fingers up to his lips.

It had been a very long time since she had felt like this. Few people in the world were capable of making her feel so small, so vulnerable, so flustered. He made her feel it all with a look and a touch.

She opened her mouth to ask him what he was talking about, what other letter he meant, but her name on his lips snatched the air from her lungs. Before she could gather her senses ro reply he dissolved. Asemir slipped free of her dreamscape.

A few bewildered moments later, Mab looked back at the puppets and her games. Then, she opened the hand clutched to her chest to look at the letter he had given her.

It was a good thing that he was gone. Mab's face burned a bright, furious red as her blazing silver eyes turned towards Ceilidh in the dream below.

Taking a deep breath, she leveled her temper and thought rationally. This was not the place or the time. She had romance to make for her friend and several others. She had political threads to pull. She had inspiration and wisdom and mischief to spread.

But tomorrow was another story. Tonight Cee would have this lovely dream with her lover. Tomorrow she would have company.

Mab busied herself with her work. She turned her attention back to the blossoming romance between "the Erlking" and "Fraeya" with a disappointed huff. A little more direction was going to be needed, then, to make that work. She plucked threads, changed a few words and made a slight retcon to the exchange.

Ameris & Fraeya - Ameris, how could you have forgotten your son? After how he insulted your lady love! Unforgivable! This moment has been very slightly altered: Her next question made his forehead wrinkle. His son? Yes, his headstrong, stubborn son! He had behaved hideously at the Spring celebration last year. "I am nothing like my son, my love." Maybe she was the one who was crazy cause he definitely knew who she was. She was Fraeya. He remembered it now. We should dance. An otherworldly suggestion. It would be so good to dance with her again, wouldn't it?

With that done, Mab looked around. The hedge maze was an interesting creation. Somebody's imagination was having fun, at least. She whispered to the hedges, encouraging them to take the couple back to the party -- with only a little bit of fumbling to make their way out, and only together. A dreadlord and a fae. An interesting pair to be sure!

​

Veithir & Ralene - What a tricky maze! You can only exit together. If you try to go alone, you'll be brought right back to one another.

As for the others… She whisked around, humming the song the orchestra played. Medja and Kade were getting alone well. Finally putting this dream to good use! She pulled their strings closer together. She was curious what this audience would entail. Sure, why not?

Medja - Why not entertain his audience? It's more interesting than the faeries here, right?

Pleased that she was finally getting somewhere with that one, Mab was fluttering off toward a pretty elven lass when she heard someone calling her a bitch. She paused to frown at the false Medja.

Well, duh. That was the perfect way for anyone to describe her. That was hardly an insult and just the honest truth. Mab huffed and propped her hands on her hip.

This one was hellbent on stirring up trouble. If he wasn't going to play along, she'd have to make a new way for him to play. Mab plucked his strings, finding the tone she was looking for. Motivation. They shimmered and the false Medja trembled like his strings.

​

Fritz Erlain - Have you ever had one of those dreams that make no sense, like they are a jumble of many different dreams that really struggle to find the main plot before settling into something? This is becoming one of those dreams. At first you were talking to strangers about this mysterious place, and then you were trying to break some spell, then you were an empress for a little while… How strange! Now look at all these people! How often do you get a chance to meet so many strange and exciting people! Relax! Forget the mystery here and see what sorts of people you can meet. After all, aren't others the real mystery of life? Who knows! Maybe your next adventure is waiting here somewhere?

Mab nodded, hopeful that this time he would look beyond the dream to the others in it. Satisfied, she hurried along to her next quarry. Now where had she been going?

 

[Medja]

Ahh, that was right. Even at such a distance, even among such chaos as the tower was, Medja had a fine eye for detail. Then the 'miniature' replica of the tower just sort of...burst into existence nearby. What? Medja chalked it up to the inherent strangeness of this place and dismissed the odd manifestation.

Radiant emerald eyes gazed down upon Kade through her own feline mask as she listened to him speak. He was a nervous little thing, that was certain. He had displayed no small level of competence, however, and that much had earned the regent's attention.

"Ahhh, Kade. I remember now. It is good to see another Ragashi native. As for your audience..." Medja began, recalling that they were in fact supposed to meet to discuss Kade's future endeavors, the strings of this odd reality were pulled by unseen forces.

Why not entertain his audience? It's more interesting than the faeries here, right?

Somewhere, somehow, wires got crossed. Perhaps it was because Medja had already intended to strike up this conversation, perhaps it was due to Medja's unnaturally long lifespan and memory, one couldn't be sure. What was, was the sudden and visible shift in Medja's demeanor. Her pupils dilated and briefly she placed a hand to her forehead as Mab's meddling took effect. Then, Medja's posture became more relaxed, and her throne descended back to ground level.

Yes...let's 'entertain' his 'audience'...

"It was no mistake, young man..." Medja arose from the throne and floated over to Kade before placing two of her fingers on his chest and gingerly walking them upwards. Flashes of her time in the Viper's Den rushed through her, memories of dances come and gone. "Though I find your humility adorable."

Kade may have been taller than Medja was, but Medja loved to take advantage of her levitation, holding herself above the boy while smirking down at him. The hand that had walked up his chest wrapped itself around the back of Kade's neck, and the distance between the two closed.
"What say we...reconvene?" She whispered with an impish giggle.

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Suddenly, Fritz realized he had turned around unconsciously. He looked around but did not see the queen who had the nerve to make him feel like Medja. He was, however, left with this strange feeling that he was really fortunate to be here. What other time would he be able to see these types of people? Or that’s what he thought for the moment.

He then remembered a look given to him by the beautiful and incredibly entitled woman-child for how she looked at him. He saw it. The look of disgust she gave him when he innocently asked her a question. Well, maybe not totally innocent. He was asking about something really important.

Anyway, it just gave him confirmation that even if he ran with what was obviously a new manipulation, they wouldn’t allow him to interact at all. However, blocking the feeling he was supposed to feel started to affect him. He suddenly was relaxed and his legs fell asleep for a moment, but it was enough to make his face meet the quartz floor. “Ow. That hurt.” Fritz said, standing back up. “I have no knowledge of how to stop this, so I guess…God damn. You win for now.”

As he opened up his mind, letting the fake feelings in, his eyes relaxed and his body straightened up. “Ahhh…so, what exactly do you want me to do now? Interact with people who won’t interact back? Look, dammit, If you want me to enjoy this, how about some illusions on me? I bet the talking would be a lot easier if I was like, an elf or something.”

Of course, this was a joke. She would never do that. Raising someone like Fritz to a non-human for the night would look bad on her. “Oh, and if I’m stuck like this, I might as well help you out. I’ll keep an eye on possible blossoming relationships. You aren’t that sneaky. Actually…fine, I take it back. That’s quite an admirable thing to do. Wait no, now that I think about it, it’s quite twisted. What do you gain from toying with other’s feelings or actions? Do you want to see tragedies? A comedy?”

“I saw your little fit when you got rejected by Buffchest McWhitehair, by the way. That was hilarious. I also watched him leave. I saw what he did, bending the threads. How do you know I am not playing you? That I’m just around here to toy with you?”

He paused and thought to himself. Ugh, I sound like an idiot. She probably isn’t listening anyway, but kept a self-confident, smug, better than anyone, entitled smirk. Like he knew something she didn’t. He didn’t. However, on the very off chance she believed him, it would work to his advantage.

Her motives for this entire masquerade were…interesting but not unknowable. This is a perfect environment to trap and humiliate who she might not like, or manipulate all kinds of royalty and such for political gain. This was also a good method because whatever she might do may not be totally remembered, but stay in the brain as a nagging afterthought, and a dream allows for more than plausible deniability.

Well played, you little bitch. He thought with Fritz’s first real smile appearing on his face.

Mab

 

[Kade Anvar]

Though I find your humility adorable.

"Thanks. I, uh...I wear it on my sleeve."

The Empress Medja didn't even need to levitate to make Kade feel as short as his brother Tahir. Put aside the enormity of this whole "Fae dream" place and the shock of being here, put aside the giant heights of the Fae who apparently populated the place, Medja's staggering stature came from her station. Not only did she wield arcane power which boggled Kade's mind, she wielded such immense political power that Kade would have felt less intimidated staring down an ifrit.

So when she walked her fingers up his chest, yeah, you know, something of a playful, toying gesture, that was one thing. In his nervousness he'd even forgotten to address her properly. When that same hand slipped around to the back of his neck, the separating space all of a sudden having shrunk to be a lot more confined, Kade, perhaps for the first time in his life, simply didn't know what to do. He went stiff. Rigid. He had always considered himself to be resourceful, quick on his feet and quick on his wit, but here he just froze up. If asked, he'd say that he handled the awkward pistachio theft with Fiera, herself having the intimidating reputation of "The Executioner," pretty well--he still had both of his hands after all.

But this wasn't that.

Kade swallowed. Anxiety, uncertainty, and little dashes of terror were the foundation of his upturned gaze, this as if he'd haplessly gotten himself into Imperial-level trouble, and a giddiness born from the weight of it all turned what he wanted to be a cordial smile into a sheepish, awkward one.

"At your earliest convenience." Say the thing. "Your Imperial Majesty."

Before, he couldn't say anything. Now, his nerves wouldn't allow him to shut the hell up.

"I'm guessing you want the bronze statues back. Heh, heh. Heh."

That was a dumb thing to say. All the bronze statues were turned back in after the conclusion of the Tower of Tribulations. Now it sounded like he had somehow snuck a few out.

Medja

 

[Samantha Black]

Veithir leaned back and watched with wry amusement as the hedge maze's agitated canopy rustled here and there. Then he recoiled, brows raised as the girl was spat out before him. Flinched as she hissed profanity.

"Isssn't fuck a bit much?" He asked flatly, his face still as the statue behind him, "Damn, or ssshit... But fuck?"

Then leaned forward off the bench and offered her a hand.

"The party isss that way," he thumbed toward the direction he came from.

Fuck? A bit much? After a fucking hedge maze just nearly swallowed her whole and unceremoniously spat her back out where she'd started? "No," she grumbled, blue eyes keening on the hedge where an opening had previously been - smug fucking ficus - "it's not enough." Damn or shit would have fallen painfully short.

There was a hand offered to her just over her shoulder, one with curiously glowing markings, and Ral felt her proverbial hackles flare against his presence at her backside. She stiffened, broad shoulders flexing and curling forward as the Dreadlord initiate pushed to her feet unassisted and took a step away from him to claim some space.

Party ... that way. Right.

"Thanks," she offered shortly, before turning and heading off through the opening of the maze in the direction he'd indicated.

But several minutes later she found herself pushed back into the courtyard clearing from the opposite side of where she'd exited, the hedges rustling triumphantly as she forcefully slapped and pushed the branches away from her. This time Ral at least managed to keep her feet beneath her, but now she was scraped up and bearing leaves and twigs where they weren't welcome. One of which had become wedged under her mask, and so she yanked the thing off with an exasperated snarl and tossed it haphazardly over her shoulder.

The elf was still there when she turned to look around and finally gave the man his due attention now that it seemed she was stuck with him. For a moment Ralene's grit teeth and balled fists came to a sudden, grinding stop as she stared into the face of a complete stranger ... that she could have sworn she recognized like an old friend.

Ral blinked and shook the notion from her mind with a scowl.

"What the fuck is this? Some kind of joke?"

 

[Veithir]

Well, if damn or shit wasn't enough, then it wasn't. Who was Veithir to argue otherwise?

The glowing hand slowly retracted, and he watched her with growing curiosity. The way she stepped away felt very deliberate, but he understood completely. Personal space was important.

"You're welcome," he said at her back and leaned forward to rest his chin on his palm, watching as she forced her way through the hedge... and stumbled back into the clearing minutes later.

Veithir watched as the mask twirled through the air and unceremoniously fell to the ground, then looked back at the human girl. The Hound's features rarely stirred, but as he stared back into the woman's face, felt the momentary spasm of muscles under one eye, and the corners of his mouth quirked down. His posture straightened, and though he'd never once met her (he was lowly, and she was not), knew the many exploits of this Dream's weaver. Veithir looked up at the sky, only to curse the Queen of Winter.

The girl swore again, and Veithir thought that her use of the word "fuck" was appropriate this time around.

"Cruel, isss it not?" Veithir could not take his eyes away from the girl that wore the... very angry face of his beloved. Suddenly, he felt the urge to clarify, "This isssn't my doing."

 

[Zakarias]

Black finery clung to a tall shape, form fitting and exquisitly tailored, it was as lustrous as a midnight sky, and what skin of his did show as he held out long limbs and stared at long fingers did sparkle and and twinkle and burn bright as the sea of stars and coursed beneath his translucent skin.

"Must be night time," the tall man dressed simply and elegantly said softly to himself. "Try as I might to resist, I suppose the call is always heard, and there is not to do but partake," he reached out and snatched a cup of fizzy drink from one of the servers who passed by. "Thank you," he said aimlessly, and strode about the crowd with long languid strides that set his rigid frame to glide.

His eyes, silver and bright, searched the crowds, saw mask after mask, and a few faces that had been revealed. Familiar and foreign all a swirl. Tangled in dance and drama alike. His lips spread wide and thin and curled and he raised his long stemmed chalice up and made to sip. Found the long beak of his mask poked the cup and spilled some drops to the floor.

"Oop," he sounded, and noticed the dark frame about his eyes. He was already so used to such shadows and obscurities. Funny to forget them now. He pinched the mask with forefinger and thumb, and turned it for his eye. "A crow," he said. "Not even a raven?" there was a hint of hurt there. "You wound me," he added as he placed the mask back upon his face. He went to drink, and he tilt his whole head back to take a long sip. "At least the drink is good," he said and made his way about when he eyed a flaxen haird fellow who looked not one bit mellow.

"Cat piss on your shoes?" he asked the man who seemed tied in so many knots.

Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Black finery clung to a tall shape, form fitting and exquisitly tailored, it was as lustrous as a midnight sky, and what skin of his did show as he held out long limbs and stared at long fingers did sparkle and and twinkle and burn bright as the sea of stars and coursed beneath his translucent skin.

"Must be night time," the tall man dressed simply and elegantly said softly to himself. "Try as I might to resist, I suppose the call is always heard, and there is not to do but partake," he reached out and snatched a cup of fizzy drink from one of the servers who passed by. "Thank you," he said aimlessly, and strode about the crowd with long languid strides that set his rigid frame to glide.

His eyes, silver and bright, searched the crowds, saw mask after mask, and a few faces that had been revealed. Familiar and foreign all a swirl. Tangled in dance and drama alike. His lips spread wide and thin and curled and he raised his long stemmed chalice up and made to sip. Found the long beak of his mask poked the cup and spilled some drops to the floor.

"Oop," he sounded, and noticed the dark frame about his eyes. He was already so used to such shadows and obscurities. Funny to forget them now. He pinched the mask with forefinger and thumb, and turned it for his eye. "A crow," he said. "Not even a raven?" there was a hint of hurt there. "You wound me," he added as he placed the mask back upon his face. He went to drink, and he tilt his whole head back to take a long sip. "At least the drink is good," he said and made his way about when he eyed a flaxen haird fellow who looked not one bit mellow.

"Cat piss on your shoes?" he asked the man who seemed tied in so many knots.

Fritz Erlain

"Not so. I was just having a bit of an issue with the manipulator of this dream, trying to turn everyone and their mothers into pawns for her show created for her enjoyment. I seem to be the only one who finds it strange that so many odd things are happening, and possibly the only one who knows why."

"She's a bastard, that's for sure, but an interesting one. I'm sure you know how she must feel, you being a man of show business yourself. It is very prudent of you to notice my trouble though. See, the fae aren't exactly what I would call friendly towards ye olde humans."

"Anyway, I was just reviewing all of the evidence and possible meaning behind this. It's obviously a social experiment. Putting humans that are dressed nice that have a superior air to them, especially ones not in those damned chains, is indeed a precarious line to toe. She is a queen though, so having a dream party and talking politics with the up and coming leaders and also current leaders is perfect because it fades into nothing more than a thought."

"It's not for us to learn anything though. There is no lesson she'd like to teach us. Eventually, people will get restless, and then anger or stupidity will rear it's dumb head and yes, she may have the ability to put those feelings to bed, but magic always has a cost and maintaining her spells upon the others, her crossed threads, as I heard some big buff elf guy, Asemir, I think, talk about them, as well as doing so for the rest of us must eventually get tiring."

"I won't play along with her idiotic games. I'll attempt to help others play along, if It's important to something bigger than herself, but being informed about strange circumstances and happenings posthaste is one top thing on the list, beaten by not being controlled or being forced to feel anything.

Emotions are all we as humans really have. Wait, nah, I won't be poetic about it. Humanity as a whole can be described as a bag of feces. All I can do is be the best piece of crap possible. This also means that taking shit from others or being manipulated by anyone at all gets me steamed."

"So no, a feline did not piss on my shoes. What actually happened, or what is currently happening, I can't figure out if It's better or worse than the rather unoriginal situation you just brought to mind. Oh, and I am Dune but not really Dune. What's your name?"

He stopped with a jump. Turned to look back at the man in black.

"I'm sorry you...had to listen to that. I get fired up sometimes. It must be the stress of being here. I feel like a schoolchild playing dressup. In front of all these no doubt incredibly notable figures, evermore. In fact, this is my first time in a dream. I just rambled for so long, however, I could get a job as whatever that person who reads the king's royal decrees is called."

OOC: Sorry this was so long!

 

[MrTophat]

Dressed in coat tails of shimmering pearl white, adorned with a matching tophat and bespectacled in silver glasses, the gnome known as Bubkiss Widewallow appeared within the dreamscape. Upon his face was a mask with a black and white depiction of a badger, with accompanying silver whiskers that shone with light. He took in the sights and sounds of what was constructed here with a smile. It was in his blood to recognise an illusion when he knee deep in one, and to find himself joyful at the prospect of such a rich place full of trickery. To the gnome, at this moment, it could only mean one thing and one thing only.

“Could it be? I've been summoned to Master Murk's new home? Oh, oh happy day, happy day indeed!”

He looked around and took a few steps, and felt himself lacking his typical cane for walking. Unusual, Bubkiss thought, very strange. His legs felt sturdier than they ever had been. He felt no ache or pain in his legs. He looked to his hands. No rings either, he noticed, neither underneath or on top of his gloves. And then he noticed the mask about him.

“Why would he...unless, oh, well, best check. Assumptions and all that be the end of many a track,”

Bubkiss extended a white gloved hand in front of himself and squeezed the air three times in succession and felt how the strands of illusionary power were woven to create the scene around him. He was eager to see how his master had advanced in skill and performance to create such a place, and sought a signature to such a place. As an illusionist himself it was as if he were a stonemason appraising the craftsmanship of a keystone or a carpenter feeling the smoothness of a piece of placed timber. His hands began to feel warm as all manner of particular information was granted to him as he extended his consciousness to the nature of the place. Even in the dreamscape he had access to his arcane intuition about the place, and so well practiced was he that he thought to do such a thing in the dream. It was as if he had run his hand across a tapestry to appreciate the weave, another way of understanding the particular motions that had assembled the final product. Nothing as invasive or possessive as trying to work his own magic in this place.

“Wait. Wait wait wait. His signature isn't here. This is someone else's work,” Bubkiss said quietly to himself and grew saddened by the thought.

He adjusted his hat out of nervousness, twisting it in place so that it became more snug about his head. He furrowed his brow in thought, snuffed out the hope that his master had finally summoned him, and then sighed.

This malaise did not last for long however, as his senses were tingling from the presence of so much on offer by such a well tempered hand of illusion and dreams.

“Still!” Bubkiss said to himself and stroked his white beard, “Even if it's not Master Murk, it must be someone else mighty powerful indeed. This craftsmanship is exquisite, top class. The malleability of the ether has been condensed into such sturdy framework, the wave of possibility is multi-threaded into the wave of reality with such precision and taut lines of power...there must have been some serious components driven into the creation of this place. But, well, I best not ruin it for anyone else. Or the host of this here shindig. Ahem.”

Bubkiss straightened himself and looked around.

He gestured to a server who leaned down to provide Bubkiss with a drink of sparkling wine.

“Thank you very much, say, I don't suppose you know who's running this, uh, gathering?”

He reconsidered immediately, and grew bashful.

“Oh don't worry about it, I'm sure they'll make themselves known if they want to meet little old me. Attend others, don't want to keep you, have a nice night,” Bubkiss said to the server and sipped on the wine. His nose twitched for a moment as the bubbles snapped and popped.

Without thinking his imagination and understanding of illusions allowed him to summon forth a cane of obsidian, perfectly straight, with a white orb on top of it that was perfectly suited to his height. He rested upon it without thought for a moment, so natural was motion.

“Oh!”

Bubkiss looked down to where his gloved hand had found itself.

“Say, this is Master Murk's cane. I...I must be dreaming. There's only one cane like this. Never thought I'd get to hold it.”

He considered the possibilities. They made his head swim.

He finished the glass of wine and passed the empty glass to another server who made Bubkiss appear all the more lacking in grace.

“All the more reason for me to find who is performing such miracles of illusion before I rouse, this is all rather curious, I still have so much to learn about this craft," Bubkiss said, and gingerly walked and looked through the various people roaming. He paused in places, looking at all manner of people that he had never even considered before.

“Quite the education this,” Bubkiss said, both about the guests and the mastery of illusion on display. He sought the creator of this place, but knew full well that if an illusionist did not want to be found, especially within a creation such as this, they would not be found. He took a relaxed attitude, happy either way with what he might discover, or who he may encounter.

 

[Zakarias]

The Man in Black garb and with star-night skin listened, tilted his cup, to and fro and watched the drink slosh this way and that, and took another sip. Small, for the taste.

"You seem to know a whole lot," he said with a smile as wide and curved as a knife once the pour of words came to stop. "Though little of manners and isms," he looked to the small man with his twisted face and bright hair, and swirled his cup. "How is that, I am left to wonder?" Another sip, longer then as he did bend his neck back. Lips parted with a satisfied smack. "One so seemingly cunning and capable, deciphering all manner of intent and intrigue," he peeked down at his drink. Empty. He placed the cup back on the nearest server's tray, and scooped up a second. "Yet so small minded he can't let go," he took another drink, and then chuckled to himself behind his cup.

"You may call me Crow, no more no less, Dune," he said from behind his cup His eyes peered around, as the man apologized. "Are we not all but players on a stage, Dune? The heroes and villains of our own stories. Why waste our time in lament, stewing in a poison of our own brew?" He swirled his cup. "All comes to an end, dreams quicker than most," he shrugged and took another drink.

 

[Fritz Erlain]

The Man in Black garb and with star-night skin listened, tilted his cup, to and fro and watched the drink slosh this way and that, and took another sip. Small, for the taste.

"You seem to know a whole lot," he said with a smile as wide and curved as a knife once the pour of words came to stop. "Though little of manners and isms," he looked to the small man with his twisted face and bright hair, and swirled his cup. "How is that, I am left to wonder?" Another sip, longer then as he did bend his neck back. Lips parted with a satisfied smack. "One so seemingly cunning and capable, deciphering all manner of intent and intrigue," he peeked down at his drink. Empty. He placed the cup back on the nearest server's tray, and scooped up a second. "Yet so small minded he can't let go," he took another drink, and then chuckled to himself behind his cup.

"You may call me Crow, no more no less, Dune," he said from behind his cup His eyes peered around, as the man apologized. "Are we not all but players on a stage, Dune? The heroes and villains of our own stories. Why waste our time in lament, stewing in a poison of our own brew?" He swirled his cup. "All comes to an end, dreams quicker than most," he shrugged and took another drink.

“Call you Crow, I think not. A better nickname for you is Dark, like the night in its colorless glory, thouroughly stark. It tells you things you would once think not. Now, many people have called me small-minded for never thinking past reasonable doubt. But one of them happens to be Lady of this House. Now for my appraisal of you.”

“You’ve seen a lot there’s no doubt. You’re no stranger to the world’s troubles or wiles. Yet somehow there’s this tiny sheltered air around you, never so evident except in the words you spin and your slightly curved smile that’s more like a smirk.”

“Now one last thing before I finish, we have to talk about that small little thing that proves what I’m saying. The code name you use is cool and sleek, but telling it one you just met looks kind of meek. I have no idea what you are here for, who you really are, and haven’t met you before. So what do you need to hide?”

“Oh wait also, you say I’m too small minded to let go. Then let’s see you do better. Set an example. What’s your real name, you possible hypocrite? What indeed does “let go” mean? Do you intend to tell me to this little whim on my life while someone controls this scene from up above?”

“I want a way out. That’s why I’m so focused. Try and have fun amongst these glares, the disdain, disgust and stupid stares. Wait around and soon you’ll see, this dream is not all it’s cracked up to be. Overall, if you want a battle of wits, i’ll give one to you, here or anywhere at all.”

He looked across the room and Medja was doing some incredibly out of character shit. Like, for example, trying to be sexy at a boy who had to be about as old as him. This was another one of Mab's little tricks. He was sure of it. They were alone, but there was no way it had progressed from the stage they had been at when he saw them fifteen minutes ago to THAT. Not without...help.

"Oh, sorry. Please excuse me. I need to go have a talk with the mysterious fae in the wall and also slap an Empress silly so she doesn't attempt anything incredibly, um, uncouth, if you understand." He said with a significant look. "Bye, thanks for the lovely little chat!" was the last thing out of his mouth before he dashed off back to Kade and the rest of the motley gang. "Good day! I think you should take some space, Medja. Have the drinks made you woozy at all?"

Medja Kade Anvar and uh... Mab

 

[Medja]

Aww, the poor, dear thing. The way he seized up was rather precious, and his nervous responses were just wonderful. Hundreds be, Medja could just eat him up, and the smug, hungry expression on her face reflected that rather apparently. Medja loved evoking this reaction in people, and sometimes she forgot how easy her new station made it to do so.

A playful titter escaped the Empress.
"Mmm, yes, I believe my earliest convenience is now, dear Kade. Come, why don't we find somewhere with a bit of privacy." She gave him a coy grin before pressing herself into him and breathing into his ear: "And 'mistress' will do fine..."

There was a brief moment of consideration at the boy's mention of the statues. Ah, yes, the ones used as goals in the Tower of Tribulations. Hadn't those all been retrieved? No matter. If he'd slipped a few away that just made him all the more clever, and gave Medja even more excuse to play with him. The concept of 'personal space' still completely foreign to the regent at this moment, she answered his statement.
"No need, dear. I'm sure I can think of more than one way you can make it up to me."

Not one to take 'no' for an answer, she began to lead Kade...elsewhere.

 

[Astrid Bielke]

Astrid sipped her drink quietly as she raised and eyebrow at Elio. He was talking about things that weren't such a popular topic to most fae. "Hounds are people eaters, you know. Surely you know of the Hunt?" She watched with a perplexed look as her new companion shrunk and changed. He was different, but she was incredibly intrigued.

Elio rubbed against her and she laughed softly as she complied and gently picked him up. She cradled him in her arms delicately and looked down at him. "This is the opportune time, I suppose. This dreamscape is complex and so many different kinds of beings are here. Humans still smell though." She scrunched her nose and absently stroked the top of Elio's head.

She headed slowly across the room, taking in the crowd. She thought about harassing the minotaur more, but she was getting drawn to the clump of humans that had clung together like sheep.

Elio

 

[Zakarias]

Curiosity piqued, Crow followed the strange little man. "Yes, hello again," he chimed as he pestered the others, and Crow loomed tall behind him, and placed a long fingered hand upon the blonde man's shoulder. Gave it a squeeze, and he smiled wider still from beneath his mask. "You promised a battle yet you flee, tail between your legs after so much barking, promising to slap another, is it? Large mouthed and short witted, as you measure threats. Please, slap me instead, oh warrior of wit, pursuer of truth, I beg thee." His teeth flashed and there was cruelty there, though a satisfaction most true.

"Pray tell, if you will, while you are at it, how you shift and change as the dream rolls forward, one minute here, the next there," he let go of his shoulder and tapped at his chin, feigning confusion. "Maybe you are the bastard who pulls at the strings?" His eyes went wide as he looked down at the man, "and we are all your prisoners?" he bared his long teeth, in a cheshire smile.

Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Curiosity piqued, Crow followed the strange little man. "Yes, hello again," he chimed as he pestered the others, and Crow loomed tall behind him, and placed a long fingered hand upon the blonde man's shoulder. Gave it a squeeze, and he smiled wider still from beneath his mask. "You promised a battle yet you flee, tail between your legs after so much barking, promising to slap another, is it? Large mouthed and short witted, as you measure threats. Please, slap me instead, oh warrior of wit, pursuer of truth, I beg thee." His teeth flashed and there was cruelty there, though a satisfaction most true.

"Pray tell, if you will, while you are at it, how you shift and change as the dream rolls forward, one minute here, the next there," he let go of his shoulder and tapped at his chin, feigning confusion. "Maybe you are bastard who pulls at the strings?" His eyes went wide as he looked down at the man, "and we are all your prisoners?"

Fritz Erlain

"Tail between my legs? Nay, I just found something maybe slightly more important than your prattling." he responded quickly. Have a good day, Whoever you are."

(Short little response to Zak while I wait for the other two (or possibly three) to respond.)

 

[Zakarias]

"Ah, the excuses of the weak, how delectable. You follow others who clearly have better business to attend to, yet you demand... well, I'm rather confused, what is it you demand, great hero of humanity? You asked my name, call me coward, after... well i don't quite remember how long you went on for, then you say I prattle." His grin stayed wide and he did not leave the so called dune. "I really do think you must reconsider your mystery my friend, for the truest mystery here is the one between your ears."
Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

"Ah, the excuses of the weak, how delectable. You follow others who clearly have better business to attend to, yet you demand... well, I'm rather confused, what is it you demand, great hero of humanity? You asked my name, call me coward, after... well i don't quite remember how long you went on for, then you say I prattle." His grin stayed wide and he did not leave the so called dune. "I really do think you must reconsider your mystery my friend, for the truest mystery here is the one between your ears."
Fritz Erlain

"I take that as a compliment. I'd say you are rather...complicated yourself."

 

[Zakarias]

"Quite," he sipped from his drink.


Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

"Quite," he sipped from his drink.


Fritz Erlain

"It was good to meet you. I guess there is some truth in what you say." he said with a audible sigh. "I guess it's harmless to let my guard down just a bit. Were you sent by the Queen? Talking to you is certainly easier than attempting to communicate with someone like her. Not to slander your little, uh, psuedo-emo vibe, or anything. "I'm off to get a drink, so could you watch those two for me? This will be my first of the night, pretty much, and possibly ever."

As he walked over to the bar, he thought about how his life might possibly be changing, along with how he thinks about the world. "Maybe this wasn't such a terrible show you put on, Queenie. I guess I was wrong then. There was a lesson here. Thanks for trying...well, no, you didn't really try. Still, nice of you."

"However, I don't see how Medja trying to do something untoward with Kade for seemingly no reason does the same thing, so could you please put a stop to that? It's very, very weird. If that could end, I would appreciate that. They can do that when I'm not around to...hear it."

"You know what? Fuck this. I'll just ask. It's the last thing I got. Can you please let anyone who wants to go, leave? It's not like you don't have many subjects to toy with even after we go. Are you still mad that your ex-big elven hunk didn't want to fuck you? Is that what this is? I saw how red you got when he left." he teased into the air, confident she'd hear that.

"Call me crazy, but you seem to want me to let go, right? That makes you look like a bit of a cowardly hypocrite, huh? What you said tells me to relent on my control, but if that's true and how you really feel, let go of yours. Uncross the threads and let everyone go where life might lead them. Join us here in the real world."

Mab

#Justgotsmuggedbyfaequeencheck

 

[Melisandre]

“Mm, yes, humans, utterly delicious,” Elio purred, but it was a playful thing. “If we’re not going to keep them as pets then let’s eat them. Perfectly sound logic.” Elio could understand how fae decided they were, in a sense, above humans. Many lacked magic, the ability to read, and most of the time having a conversation with a human was hardly enlightening. At least, that was how Elio used to think. He was determined to prove to Astrid just how amazing humans could be in their short little life spans.

“All fae know of the hunt, little one, the bigger question is why you think I should be impressed by it.” Elio finally answered, his feline green eyes looking around. Well, there was plenty he could do, as many little groups seemed to have form. He wanted to stay away from those who were of some semblance of fae, or this little excursion wouldn’t produce the results he wanted.

“That strange human who talks far too much,” he inclined his head over to the blonde youth who seemed to be talking to himself. Or maybe he had some sort of imaginary friend. Either way, Elio had that usual half-lidded look all cats were so fond of doing when they had a plan brewing. Mischief every now and then was fine, as long as it was harmless. “Let’s pretend to be entirely different characters. It’ll be a challenge not to lie.”

Astrid Bielke

 

[Zakarias]

At his side, by the bar, the golden haired man would find Crow once more. "There you go again," he said with his smirk. "Demand after demand," a server came by and he freshened up the tall sparkling man's drink. "Thank you," he said quickly, and turned toward the smaller man. "Have you never slept before?" He asked, peering at him, sidelong. "Dreamers go on dreaming, often because they want to dream. Nightmares, yes, those hold and drag, and perchance we are in one of your making, but, dear and miserable Dune, if you want so much your freedom, why do you go on demanding it from," he looked around. "I'm not quite sure who you are even talking to to be quite frank," he smirked wider still and took a sip from his drink. "Though it sounds like you are fond of elven men," he said with a wink and a nod. "At least there is a single drop of good taste in you. And hey, if they let you watch, there is nothing wrong with that, you know?"

Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

At his side, by the bar, the golden haired man would find Crow once more. "There you go again," he said with his smirk. "Demand after demand," a server came by and he freshened up the tall sparkling man's drink. "Thank you," he said quickly, and turned toward the smaller man. "Have you never slept before?" He asked, peering at him, sidelong. "Dreamers go on dreaming, often because they want to dream. Nightmares, yes, those hold and drag, and perchance we are in one of your making, but, dear and miserable Dune, if you want so much your freedom, why do you go on demanding it from," he looked around. "I'm not quite sure who you are even talking to to be quite frank," he smirked wider still and took a sip from his drink. "Though it sounds like you are fond of elven men," he said with a wink and a nod. "At least there is a single drop of good taste in you. And hey, if they let you watch, there is nothing wrong with that, you know?"

Fritz Erlain

"I'm not talking about myself, you obscene fucker. I'm attempting to talk to the one who is actually the administrator of this little place. She likes buff elven men. Oh, and she's invisible. The only way you can really know that she's there happens to be when she uses magic to, in my case, make someone feel like an unaffected version of that person, who is also being...helped along that unsettling road, by the woman in question." he awkwardly finished, pointing at Medja.

"She tried again, too, to make me suspend disbelief and just go for it, which is when your annoying ass found me and started talking, which was entertaining, to say the least. Oh, and if you want to watch and hear them do it, you can gladly take my place."

I'll just add glamours and silencers so nobody needs to hear a word, assuming it gets that far, which I will vehemently work towards preventing. After all, Kade doesn't like Medja like that, one, two, It's not real love, just created feelings, which I hate. If you are going to have erm, that for the first time, it should be with someone you like who isn't apparently trying to force you. At least that's what I think. I can't speak from experience. Three, there is legitimately no way Medja hasn't got someone in the real world. She is quite the beauty, after all."

"Lastly, It feels uncouth to allow them to do that probably in the view of our Hostess, who, y'know, got definitively rejected by the person she most likely wanted to do that with, if you get my drift." He said with a slow but subtle wink.

"Anyway, I wasn't talking to you so why does it matter?"

 

[Zakarias]

"Oh," he said flatly and unimpressed. He wore a slight frown as he swirled his drink. "You are one of those types. Telling others how things should be and crying foul when no one cares to hear you say it," he shrugged, and smiled again. "Though I must say, for a self righteous celibate, you sure have quite the imagination, and a most foul mouth, my word, fucker this, bitch that, this person with that one, hunky elves on the mind, when everyone else is just... Carrying on." He laughed, tittering and hot. "Yes please, go on not talking to me more, I find it rather fun," he winked at the man, obscenely.

Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

"Oh," he said flatly and unimpressed. He wore a slight frown as he swirled his drink. "You are one of those types. Telling others how things should be and crying foul when no one cares to hear you say it," he shrugged, and smiled again. "Though I must say, for a self righteous celibate, you sure have quite the imagination, and a most foul mouth, my word, fucker this, bitch that, this person with that one, hunky elves on the mind, when everyone else is just... Carrying on." He laughed, tittering and hot. "Yes please, go on not talking to me more, I find it rather fun," he winked at the man, obscenely.

Fritz Erlain

"Eh, if they have the privilege to carry on unbothered, good for them. Also, crying foul when foul abounds sure does matter. In fact, I cried foul so loud our little friend-. No, fine. You may have a point. I don't know the customs or anything. Maybe manipulation of mind is just a casual courtesy. As long as she doesn't kill anyone, I'll try to relax. Let's attempt a start over. You tell me when you get bored of my placid, languid talk."

"So, Crow, how are you enjoying the festivities? I think maybe something less fancy wouldn't exactly kill the mood. I mean, besides the mini tower my friend summoned mysteriously. The music is nice though, and even unintentional entertainment featuring hand to face combat. How uncouth of the young man. She obviously doesn't know him, but he thinks he does, somehow despite it all. How confounding." He said in a cordial tone, as when he decided to become boring he totally could.

"*Yawn* What a world this is! I would never think I could get the chance to interact with all of these living breathing, non-humans! No, that's a rather mean phrase, now. Maybe Otherspecies...yes, has a less xenophobic ring to it. I haven't met many of them yet, only a rather stoic orc who bothered to talk to little old me, and a fae who was probably his wife. Maybe he was her husband. Societal norms for Otherspecies sure are fascinating. I might go on and meet some posthaste. Would you like to come along, friend?"

"Can you believe that once I thought there was a fae in the ceiling? Controlling us all? No, all the quickly progressing relationships must be a product of the gigantic charisma of this beautiful background. Crystal everywhere the eye can see. What a nice place." he finished, standing up to ask for a different drink, perhaps water.

Spoiler: OOC:

OOC: Mab because I know you want to smug this. If I'm wrong though, you can say lol

 

[Mab]

So the Medja/Kade thing was not panning out quite like she had expected. Such was the mind, always taking payhs unexpected. Mab watched their puppets with keen interest. Perhaps it was her fault for leaving that so open-ended. Hopefully the Empress' attention wasn't unrequited. Who could blame a lad for being a little nervous? He would figure it out soon enough.

Oh, but there it was! The first object in his mind! Mab's fingers curled over her lips, hiding her mirth from no one. A bronze statue? From the Tower of Tribulation? Frankly, Mab had no idea what that was, but it seemed to be the common thread between them.

Thankfully, mab didn't need to know what it looked like. She gently skimmed from his surface thoughts and let the magick manifest itself. Easy as pie.

Kade Anvar - You will keep finding the bronze statues from the Tower of Tribulations coming out of your pockets. Where are they coming from? Why are there so many? How did they even fit in that pocket?

As for the maze, that was working perfectly. And in another corner, a second equally odd pair was striking up conversation. A cwn annwn and a cat sith! As interesting as the dreadlord and the púca, to be sure. They, however, were free to their own devices. For now.

As for some of the newcomers, one was doing his best to win Mab's regard. She felt the magic, the arcane senses stretching out to evaluate her dream. Turning her attention toward the gnome, she monitored his inspection with interest and caution. She did not know his "Master Murk" beyond his fleeting thoughts. She did not want him to mistake her work for his.

So she let him see. Mab let him perceive the silvery threads of the complex spell she had woven. And it was like a spider's web -- many threads crossed over one another for a different purpose. It was tangible and not, in the way much magic was. It was Other, the hallmarks of ley magick unique and strange. This illusion was grand and complex and very, very simple.

It pleased her to have her work admired. He intrigued her and she decided to give him a good dream for stroking her ego. The dream was already doing a fine job of that, lending him this Master Murk's very own cane. For a little bit of fun, something more rewarding was due, however…

She spun her threads. Mab hid herself in the weave and weft of the magick around him -- tiny clues for an intellectual mind. If he looked hard enough, and if he was clever enough, perhaps he would find her. She hoped he did. It would be an interesting conversation at the very least.

​

MrTophat - Bubkiss has piqued Mab's interest! As a fellow connoisseur of illusions, you'll be given a very unique opportunity: Work your way to the end of this puzzle by the conclusion of your dream, sleuth out the nature of its magick, and she might let you peer behind the curtain. Find and invoke the name of the mistress pulling the strings, and the audience is yours. Who knows? It's been a long time since Mab took a warlock. What greater illusion than the gift of glamor?

What a good time! She was having a great time. There were broken hearts pining, angry minds roiling, tension mounting, and intrigue swirling. So many moods! So many dreamers! So much potential!