Cheetah Cheetah, burning bright

Embers

2008-02-28T21:33:16Z

I wouldn't say I'm burning bright at the moment.

But I've not burnt out.

I smolder,
I sleep,
I wait,

For the Lighthouse reflector to turn and frame me in the spotlit once more.

Sooner, or Later.
But not now,
and not never.

I promise.

Intermission: Pictures

2005-06-20T18:07:14Z

33: Bedrest

2005-04-27T15:35:02Z

People: Leetah, Mikhail, Dr. Vayne, Eifersucht
Location: Healing Room B
Played: December 04, 2004

[Healing Room B]
Though still a hospital room, it looks more comfortable than its neighbours along the hallway. There are the standard two beds, with a curtain which can be drawn between them for privacy, but the bed under the window at the far wall looks a little bigger than the other, and has been made up with a soft blue quilt. A small stand for a harp sits just past the foot of the bed, a simple chair beside it. A few other small personal touches mark this as more than just another infirmary room. Someone lives here, perhaps, even if they're not here right now.
Wooden cabinets along the wall hold medical supplies and spare linens. White shelves separating the banks of cabinets contain a varicoloured collection of small glass bottles. A lamp topped with a stained glass shade sits on the sturdy worktable below the shelves, providing gentle light. Beyond the cabinets, a solitary sink is against the wall in the left corner. The bed closer to the door is plainly made and looks ready to accept a patient; a rolling cart of instruments and a flexible long-necked lamp are standing by.

In the bed closest to the window lies the savanite. The covers are flipped back, exposing to her waist. She's got a long white shirt on, that is twisted and creased against her. She's awake, staring at the ceiling and smiling. She seems quite peaceful, happy.

Mikhail hesitates at the door, not really wanting to upset her. He opens the door, then thinks about it for a heartbeat, then starts to turn away without disturbing her.

Leetah looks over at the door, head tilted curiously. She waves.

The cheetah yawns widely, showing off dangerous teeth. A quick inhale at the end. She stretches, both hands clasped behind her head, elbows pushing back. She keeps watching, not getting up. She is very happy looking, especially compared with the last few days.

Mikhail stops mid turn and turns back to face her. "Greeting mistress," he says softly. "I came to check how you were."

Leetah pushes herself up so she's sitting. She smiles and nods vigorously, observing you with bright eyes. She gestures, making a double thumbs up with a big grin. She seems happy. There is some evidence around her eyes that she's been crying alot, but doesn't seem to be doing so now.

"I am gladdened to hear that, mistress," the gypsy says quietly. "I just wanted to be certain you were all right."

Mikhail hesitates then steps into the room, his pace slow and careful. His shirt is mostly unbuttoned and his tightly wrapped chest is visible beneath it. He takes a seat next to her, lost in his own troubled thoughts for a moment.

Leetah holds her hand up, making rubbing and petting motions and points at your back. She's hesitating to touch you. Her eyes watch your mouth.

Mikhail looks at her and shakes his head. "Forgive me, mistress, but I am more tired than I believed. I think I will go back to my room. We will talk tomorrow?"

Leetah nods, smiling. She points at herself and the bed. She'll be here. The door closes and she lies back, staring serenely up at the ceiling once more. It's a nice bed, the walls are soundproofed and the isolation makes her feel secure. Outside anything could happen, but she has found sanctuary here. Some time later she eases into sleep, a deep and peaceful one.

************

The door opens and Dr. Vayne looks in. "Ah good, you're awake kitten, feeling better?" Leetah nods, looking up from practicing on her mandolin. The doctor continues, "Azure is unavailable for a few days and I believe it's my turn to cover her patients so do me a favour and keep improving." Leetah blinks, a concerned expression crossing her face and prompting Dr. Vayne to smile. "Oh don't worry, she'll be back. This isn't the first time. Anyhow, here's your meal." A tray is placed on the table and the Doctor is out.

************

The two beds in the room are unoccupied, covers properly stretched out and tucked in with the curtains rolled back so the room seems larger. Leetah is up, still wearing only her long shirt and sitting in the chair. Her things are piled on the nearby table and she's practicing with her mandolin quietly.

Mikhail knocks softly, then pushes the door open. "Mistress Leetah?" he calls softly, peering into the room.

Leetah's response is a strum of her mandolin. A happy chord that resonates in the room. She smiles and waves happily, gesturing for Mikhail to enter.

Mikhail nods and walks into the room, hesitantly. He moves a bit less painfully than the night before. The biggest difference is his clothing. He now wears the uniform and badge of a Mist Knight. "How are you this eve, mistress?"

[Mikhail]
Mikhail is a tall, well built man with broad shoulders and a swarthy complexion. An angry scar runs down the left side of his face from brow to the middle of his cheek. His face is angular, with high sharp cheekbones, a heavily squared jaw and a hawkish, rather crooked nose. His sharp, dark eyes betray almost every emotion he feels. His curly ebon hair is worn with crown pulled up and back, drawing attention his sharp features. The rest falls loose, just below his shoulders. He wears the uniform of the Mist Knights, a red shirt with a green-gray jacket and pants. His boots are black, but fairly scuffed already. A broadsword hangs from the left side of his heavy black leather belt. The blade is not decorated with anything but a kanji and some small script, but it is finely crafted and perfectly balanced. The hilt is wrapped with plain leather, also of the highest quality. A matching long knife hangs from the opposite side of his belt, it also bears a kanji on the throat its blade. These weapons are usually kept sheathed. He carries a tattered leather satchel over one shoulder. On a chain around his wears the badge of the Mist Knights.

A mist knight! She's heard of them but never seen one. Leetah doesn't fully recognize the uniform for what it is, but it looks official and a bit like a town or temple guard to her. She smiles, giving a thumbs up and pointing to herself, then follows with a curious wave in Mikhail's direction. She touches down her body, indicating clothes, then his clothes.

Mikhail looks down at himself and nods. "Yes, I applied to join the Mist Knights," he tells her with an awkward grin. "I was surprised that they accepted me."

Leetah shares the grin and includes a wink, plus a couple happy claps. She sits up straight and salutes.

Mikhail grins broader. "I'd salute you back, but...." his voice trails off as he indicates his ribs. He takes a seat in a chair and nods to her. "Don't stop playing in my account, Mistress Leetah. You know I enjoying listening to you play. You have a rare gift."

Leetah gives a little bow. She points at herself, her mandolin, makes a few playing gestures in the air, then points at your badge of office. She mimes shaking a stick or tapping the floor with something. After this little bit of play-acting, she starts playing. It's a simple tune that sounds a little bit like rain. A sunshower on an afternoon with a breeze.

Mikhail raises an eyebrow at her, but doesn't ask. He leans back as much as his bandaged ribs allow and closes his dark eyes, letting the melody wash over him.

She pulls one leg up, to prop her heel against the seat and more comfortably rest her mandolin in the crook of her leg. A little adjustment of her shirt, she didn't mean it to ride up her leg quite the way it did, and the bowl of her instrument holds it down. The notes seem, well, they seem so clean. Very pure and sparkling the way sun would through tiny droplets. It's not a very loud piece at all, almost emphasizing the silence of the room.

A smile creeps across Mikhail's sharp features as he listens. He begins to sway softly to the music.

Leetah slips her hand up long enough to wave at your mouth while opening and closing hers a couple times, as if she could speak. Her ears also perk curiously in your direction. It seems she's inviting you to speak, about something, without really suggesting a topic. Perhaps she'd be happy if you said any old thing. Her fingers return to the instrument, claws lightly plucking raindrops off the silver strings.

Mikhail opens his dark eyes. "Forgive me, mistress," he says. "I have no desire to interrupt your art. And truth be told, I am not in much a mood for conversation at this time. I'll answer any questions you have though."

She looks pensive, thinking hard enough that the distraction slows the sound rain. She either has a lot to ask, or a little, and it seems no clear way to present the potential topics in a form of a question. After another moment, Leetah points at the door and makes a scary face, then mimes taking something out of her pocket, opening it, and handing it over to you. She finally makes a reversing sort of gesture, indicating from you to her.

Mikhail frowns, not absolutely certain what she means. "You were afraid of something?" he asks, puzzled

Leetah nods, pointing at the door again, making a few backwards waves with her hands then playing a melody that seems circular, coiling. She puts her hands at her hips and draws them out sideways.

Mikhail frowns deeper. "You are afraid of the Mists?" he ventures. "Something from the Mists?"

Leetah shakes her head. She stands up for a moment, her music totally interrupted except for a fading echo. She splays her hands, touching thumbs and flaps them like wings. This is followed by grabbing her tail, guiding it around so it hangs down from the side of one hip, then the other, and letting it go she again mimes something coming off her and dropping down. She finishes by making an odd wiping gesture over her face, and well, one that can only be interpreted as tracing the contours of a chest significantly more busty than she is. Once done, she sits again and resumes playing.

Mikhail nods widely. "Ah, you fear Mikaru," he says slowly. "I am sorry. I did not know you feared her so. She only told me just before I asked her to check on you. She truly means no harm. She merely does not understand herself."

Leetah nods, shivering a little but mostly looking amused. Perhaps it was some of the features she had to mime to help you guess. She also seems intrigued, tilting her head curiously and nodding with a rolling gesture.

Mikhail shrugs. "She believes herself a monster," he explains. "She fears no one else will ever see her beyond her appearance. I have told over and over that she is wrong, but she does not heed me."

Leetah holds a hand out and moves it around, hovers her right over it, banking and following as the lower one twists and zooms. She points at the lower hand, then herself, and the higher hand and makes a flapping motion. With a kind of sideways shake of her head she gives you a fearful expression, then relaxes it.

Mikhail nods. "Yes, I know, she told me she stalked you," he says quietly. "I don't believe she meant you harm. She flew very low over me when we first met. I nearly cut her in two. I am glad I held my sword. I am sorry she frightened you."

Leetah bobs her head, still looking interested and giving a sort of curious gesture. She starts playing again, the sound of light rain once again filling the room.

Mikhail shrugs a bit. "I know not what to tell you," he admits. "I have seen her be as gentle as lamb and as fierce as any creature I have ever battled. I don't believe she is a monster. But she is an oracle and seers have a problem looking internally."

There's a rather loud knocking at the door.

The cheetah bobs her head knowingly, then jumps in her seat. A pause and she gets up, padding to the door and opening it.

Mikhail starts to rise from his chair, but seeing Leetah answering it, he gives her a grateful nod and settles back into his chair.

Eifersucht fills the space beyond the door, smiling broadly at the feline female. "Good evening," he murmurs, looking into the room to not politely to Mikhail.

Leetah seems relatively confident inside the room at least. She grins widely as she watches the baron squeeze himself through the door, backing up of course, to give him more room. Once he's fully in, she makes a respectful bow and looks about. The bed... probably will hold him, and she waves towards that as she returns to her seat.

Mikhail nods to Eifersucht. "Greeting, baron," he says quietly. "Mistress Leetah was entertaining me with her fine music and I her with my less than entertaining company. It is a poor trade on her part, methinks."

Eifersucht chuckles briefly at Mikhail's comment as he accepts Leetah's offer of the bed as a seat, moving over and easing his bulk down onto the frame with minor complaints from the furniture. "But I remember hearing once that value depends on who's looking, or some such thing. She may enjoy you being her audience as much as you enjoy her music."

Leetah bobs her head and smiles. She rubs along the backside of one of her ears, folding and manipulating it, then letting it pop back into its usual position with a flick. She pulls both her feet up onto the chairseat and curls around her mandolin. Raindrops, as she plucks strings with her claws, a nice soothing sort of sound.

Mikhail chuckles. "You flatter me, mistress," he says with a nod. "She was asking me of Mikaru. Have you met her, Baron Eifersucht?"

Eifersucht nods his head once more at Mikhail. "Indeed. A very interesting being, to say the least. She took me swimming," he comments, nodding his head idly.

The music changes, the patter of rain turns to the trickle of a stream bouncing off rocks and gurgling. It's still very similar in nature to the earlier piece, relaxing, calming, not so loud or dominating that it interrupts conversation. If anything, it seems to weave nicely between words, the way water would wind its course. Leetah nods her head several times at the Baron, clearly intrigued.

Mikhail grins. "Yes, she took me swimming once as well," he tells the baron. "Showed me the bottom of the river. It was intriguing."

Leetah pantomimes holding her breath, struggling and shaking her head as if she was soaked, with a bit of a grin.

Eifersucht chuckles at Leetah as she continues to play the wet song, smiling. "Don't like swimming?" he asks the cheetah before grinning at Mikhail.

Mikhail lets out a laugh. "Actually, mistress, Mikaru can breathe underwater and give breaths to others," he tells her. "It made it much easier for her to show me the things one can find on the bottom of a river."

Leetah makes a waves-motion gesture with her hand, then taps at the base of her throat. Seems she's happy as long as it isn't over her head. She gets her hand back on the strings before the brook dries up, and continues with it's splashy tune.

Eifersucht rocks his head back and forth to the tune, humming quietly along. Not very well, mind.

Catching Mikhail's comment, Leetah looks over, purses lips and makes a kissing motion with her lips against her fingers while stretching forward her muzzle. She tips her head, blinks in wonderment and slips fingers back onto strings.

Mikhail looks down a bit and nods. "Koorah mistress," he chuckles. "You understand perfectly." He looks out the window at the moon and shakes his head. "Forgive me, mistress, baron, but I am supposed to be on duty tonight and I should get back to my patrol. Have a good eve both of you." He rises a bit unsteadily from his chair and offers them each a brief bow in turn, then walks towards the door.

Eifersucht nods his head towards Mikhail, smiling. "Patrol?" he asks absently of Leetah after the other man has left. "Has he joined the local town guard? Mist Knights, I think they're called?"

Leetah nods to Mikhail, giving him a sly sort of grin, following it with a rubbing sort of motion, one hand in front of her arm. It doesn't make a lot of sense. She nods to the Baron's question, making a gesture to her chest, roughly where Mikhail's badge hung on him.

Eifersucht ahs and nods. "That's what that was, then." He smiles and settles back into the bed again, crossing his legs at the shins beneath him, and removing his gauntlets carefully. "Have you seen that beast since your last performance I witnessed?"

Leetah closes her eyes and shakes her head sadly, sighing and shrinking down in her seat. Another huff, followed by a hopeful glance towards the Baron.

Eifersucht simply stares blankly back at Leetah, looking sad as well. "I'm sorry to upset you with my question," he mumbles.

Leetah shakes her head, eyes lidding as she pets the air in 'it's alright' sort of way. She follows by gesturing at Eifersucht, then pointing at his eyes.

Eifersucht blinks those eyes a few times, then nods his head. "Um... did I see it? Oh, no, no I haven't. If I do, however, I would most certainly alert you. Though, I should warn you, that were it to initiate combat with me I would most certainly smite it."

Leetah nods understandingly, she would expect no less. She points at herself and makes a running motion with her hand. That would seem to be her plan. After this, well, she holds her chin with her fingers in a variety of ways, leaned a little forward and repositioning them as if she is considering things. Following this, she gazes at the baron, a penetrating almost predatory gaze while tapping the side of her head. Finally, she makes a cutting sort of motion, points at your hammer and then does the stare with the head-tap.

Eifersucht just stares back at Leetah as she makes her gestures, shaking his head slowly as he poses her question to him. "My hammer?" he asks carefully.

Leetah shakes, then taps all around her forehead with all five fingers, following by tapping in the air towards the baron's head. This gesture is followed by one where she presses on the sides of her skull as if she had some sort of headache. Finally she brings up both arms, held together to make a versicle sort of barrier that she ducks her head behind.

Eifersucht scratches the side of his head as he watches, then tries to contemplate the gestures. "My helmet?" he attempts.

Leetah shakes her head, reaching over to pet the baron's armor, pet, pet. She waves her hand with a sort of wiping motion and sits back. Picking up her mandolin again, she starts playing the water tune again. A little stream trickling over rocks.

Eifersucht sighs heavily, looking down at the ground. He folds his bare hands in his lap, otherwise simply listening to the tune.

Leetah gets up, she doesn't want Eifersucht to be sad. She interrupts his gaze at the floor by crouching down so she's in the way and reaches out to lift up his chin. She smiles, her whiskers splayed forward in a curious feline way, and rocks her head from side to side, gazing on the Baron's face.

Eifersucht smiles slightly, lifting his hand to touch lightly against Leetah's hair. "I'm sorry. I just wish I could understand you better," he mumbles.

Leetah leans her head, pressing her hair flat against his palm and rubbing. She seems to like how she can't move it at all, even when she's obviously leaning and putting her weight behind it. Her mane slides as she purrs quietly, and brushes like a cat.

Eifersucht curls his fingers forward to let Leetah scritch herself with his hand, chuckling briefly. That certainly seems to cheer the massive Baron up. "Well, I can understand that sound well enough."

Leetah grins, purring louder, which of course makes her feel better as well as sound it. She bumps as solidly as she can against Eifersucht's hand, even ducking so she can nuzzle with the other side of her neck for a while. Her eyes are closed, quite content. Headroll, nuzzle. Purrrrrrrrrr.

Eifersucht moves his hand, and the other as well, scritching his fingertips into her luscious hair, smiling broadly. His fingers move up and down the side of her head and neck. "Mother used to have a cat with similar color to your fur," he comments idly.

She likes that, she likes that alot and her head rocks from side to side as she curls her neck and feels Eifersucht's fingers pressing into her muscles. While she is certainly much bigger than a housecat, many of her reactions seem the same. Well, most housecats don't stand on their hind legs or wear shirts, but they will paw at the arms petting them. Leetah hooks her fingers on the elbow plates of the Baron's armour, all the better to hang there.

Those thick fingers work their way town along the back of the cheetah's neck and shoulders before moving to her scalp once more, kneading and petting. Eifersucht's frame almost dwarfs Leetah to a housecat, but not quite.

Leetah keeps purring, and then she climbs into the baron's lap. Not quite a housecat, not really a lapcat either, and perhaps too much a woman to be doing this, she curls up across his thighs. Her knees tucked up, her arms crossed in a high hug on her chest, she snuggles within his arms and bumps her head up against his breastplate. Her purring modulates, coming in surges of strong then weak. Her tail flops down and doesn't seem easily managed, moving unexpectedly but still not a bother. The cheetah makes herself comfortable, wriggling about until she is just so.

Eifersucht smiles, settling into himself carefully as his hand pets down along the length of Leetah's hair and back, letting her fall asleep, and not moving an inch until she does, and then only to accommodate her. He would eventually fall asleep as well, the armor and trained reflex keeping him upright.

32: Return to Rephidim

2005-04-26T20:50:56Z

People: Azure, Tahir, Rhys, Leeta, Peter
Location: Healing College, Caligo Arx; Rephidim Temple, Sinai
Played: December 06, 2004

You realize, rather slowly, that you are no longer dreaming of being cuddled up in a field of poppies with Peter. You're in a room lit by sickly yellow florescent lights that buzz above you like angry insects. Books are piled everywhere and a comfortable looking desk sits in a corner. It vaguely reminds you of Leetah's chambers, but it's larger, more decadent. Outside the door, odd creatures walk back and forth in what look like ceremonial robes. Bat people like Ujadet, wolves, horses, felines, even some pedigree breeds of dogs, all walking on two legs and wearing elaborate robes. From time to time a cheetah will dash by, but their clothing is much more mininalistic and all of them hold themselves with a certain quiet downturned air. It's obvious these people are slaves.

Azure watches the procession with interest, for as long as she can without being noticed staring. Looking for something else to take her attention, the elf gets up and crosses to the desk, snagging a book with a dark green cover from the top of one of the piles along the way. She eases herself into the comfortable chair and looks at the book, and then at the titles of some of the other books stacked up on the desk.

"The Souls of the Procession" is one book, with an image of what might be an asteroid belt on the cover. Another book is "The Seven Sisters" and another is "The Trade History of the Hiamaat". A set of heavy footsteps stops at the door, followed by a lupine growl and whine. Two wolves, about three times taller and twice as wide as the variety you've seen in the hallway stands there, along with a boy that looks as though he's perhaps nine or ten. He wears white and gold, a gold skullcap, and large shoulder pauldrons with odd twisted golden spines on them that make the boy look both taller and smaller than he really is. He looks back at his two guards and waves them off. "Ah, let me guess, you're the new tutor?" His voice is identical to the one that speaks from Leetah's collar.

"Yes, sir," Azure answers the boy, closing the book and dipping her head respectfully as she swivels toward him in the chair. During the split second that her eyes are lowered out of view, they cast wildly about as though she's trying to free herself from this dream... or at least get a hint of whether she's still her same familiar species...

You are, in fact, still you. You catch a familiar lock of blue hair falling in front of your face, and your clothing appears to be your usual dress. The boy nods to the two wolves who turn about as he steps through. The door cycles closed, a mechanism of some sort that seems a great deal more imposing that a door. "Oh, don't believe those tales they've told you about me. I don't bite or put people to death if they sneeze." He starts to wrestle the pauldrons off, they look like they weigh a ton. "You know, you're one of the first humans I've seen in this place. Most of the time it's the beast men. You don't sound like you're from Chronotopia though... Oh! Let me guess, I love geography. You're from Sylvania, right?"

Azure allows herself a small, serene grin, and her posture relaxes, hands clasping each other lightly in her lap. "Well, I'm glad I'm better to look at than a beast man, master Tahir." She shakes her head, earrings tinkling lightly like the echo of windchimes. "Not Sylvania, though you're close. I'll let you wonder for now. When we come upon my homeland in your studies, I'm sure you'll guess it straight away."

Tahir stretches a bit as soon as his outer robe is off. He looks a great deal more like a boy now, and a great deal less threatening. "Ah, so you /are/ a geography teacher then? Hmm, and here I thought I'd mastered all my lessons. Of course, they haven't really gone into detail on the planets yet." He looks around the room, seeming confused for a moment. "This is an odd question, but do you know what day it is? For the life of me I can't remember if we're nearing Candlemass or not."

"I'm a teacher of much more than geography," Azure answers, studying the boy softly whilst his gaze is caught in other directions. "I'm sorry... what day it is?" she repeats, if gently. It's an odd question indeed, and obviously a surprising one to her.

The boy moves to the desk and grasps the back of the chair, looking lost for a moment. "Yes. Funny, isn't it. For the life of me I can't seem to remember. Maybe the stress has just gotten to me. I can't seem to remember most of my day, really." He scratches his head and frowns. "Oh nevermind, I probably just haven't slept properly lately." He nods quickly. "Leeta should be around with dinner soon, she's usually good about that. Insists on tasting everything. So, where do we start?"

Azure glances about at the multiple piles of books. "Well, perhaps you should tell me what you're up to, so I know where to begin."

Tahir frowns even more as he eases into the chair at his desk. He grabs a few books and flips through them as though they might refresh his memory. "You know, for the life of me I can't recall. I mean... I remember the inauguration, but I thought my lessons were over. Yet you know, I'm sure they told me I'd be seeing a teacher today." He scowls and gets up again. "I can't even remember if it's near Candlemass or after landing day. I'm sorry miss, but I didn't catch your name?"

"Azure," she answers. "Like the colour." She watches you carefully, concerned. "If I may ask... what's got you under such stress to affect you so?"

Tahir ponders that as he walks around the chambers. "Nothing, at least.. I don't think anything is..." he stops at a mirror and stares dumbly at his reflection. "Oh. Oh my. Was I ever that young?"

Azure blinks very slowly. "We all are, at one time," she answers carefully, "though for some of us that time is longer ago than for others. Would you.. would you like to take a seat? Perhaps I can summon Leeta to bring you some water?"

The boy starts exploring his face, then lets his gaze drop as he shakes his head. "I remember now. Leeta's gone. Her sister needed her at the City of hands and she never came back. They told me that the Naga has put her to death. And I continued on at the Temple." He frowns. "Is this real? I.. I feel real. I think I'm real... But so many details are gone."

Azure's eyes darken a shade. "Let's talk about something more grounding then; more familiar. Tell me about Candlemass."

"It's... It a sort of springtime holiday. Usually the day when men give their ladies flowers to try and woo them. Of course, my only friend was Leeta and she was one of the Silent Ones." Tahir sighs. "Something tells me that this is Recoining Day instead. Am I dead? Is Leeta dead? Is that why she's not here?"

Azure spreads her hands helplessly. "Master Tahir... you don't seem dead to me. But you do seem quite confused. Should I fetch a healer for you? Perhaps you need rest more than you need today's lesson..."

Tahir manages to pull away from the mirror long enough to look at you oddly. "Who are you, really? And.. Where am I? I'm not sick. If anything I think I feel more lucid than I have in a long time. I feel.. I feel as though I'd been sleeping, and I've woken up into this."

Azure stands slowly, her face impenetrably calm, though her eyes show concern. "You're not sick," she agrees, "but you're clearly disoriented. You don't know what you've learnt, what day it is, or your own age. Is this a normal state?"

"No," Tahir says, then looks at his reflection and smirks, probing his face again. "Definitely not. I'd say we're about a century not in my normal state at least." He frowns again. "And today is?"

Azure stands by impassively. "It's about two weeks before midwinter," she answers finally. "Candlemass is a long way off."

The boy scratches his head. "Midwinter... Before or after Landing day?" He finally tears his gaze away from the mirror and approaches you again, studying your face and features critically. "You're wearing a great deal of metal, I see."

Azure stands passively, not resisting your approach. Her mind, however, is screaming warnings at her, pushing at the edges of the dream to try to pierce through to awareness. She tries to extend her consciousness to feel Peter in the bed beside her, the blankets soft on her bare skin, anything to use as an anchor and pull her from the dream.

The dream holds you within it, the scent of spring grass and the feel of foxfur against your hands hits you for a moment as time slows for an instant, then snaps back to normal as the boy closes the space between you. He studies you, his gaze lingering on your ears. Something seems to change in his eyes, a sort of awareness, a sudden realization. "None of this is real, is it?"

Azure grasps desperately at that fur, at the tactile memory of it, as though thinking about it hard enough can bring it back; can fade this scene to something else. "It is Dream," she answers, defeated. "Please, my lord," the elf asks with eyes downcast, "release it." She's not actually addressing the request to the boy before her.

Trust thine lord, little dreamer a voice echoes through you, although the boy seems oblivious to it all. "Are you some kind of dream mage?" The boy asks. "I had one once, back when I was having nightmares. I hear that they needed dream mages for the brain taping as well."

"Something like that," Azure answers plainly. "Yes." She blinks rapidly twice, willing the sudden wetness away from her eyes. "You must be in further need of one, for me to have been summoned."

Tahir opens his mouth so speak, when a shout echoes from the hallway. As the boy turns around the door is gone, as are the bustling crowds and the noises. Just the sound of one heated voice yelling... Which oddly sounds a great deal like Tahir's. "Rhys?" he mumbles to himself.

Azure blinks, reaching backward tentatively for the desk as an anchor point, her fingers brushing the cover of a book. "What's happening, Master Tahir?" she asks quietly.

"Cogged if I know," Tahir says offhandedly as he moves to the door. There's another bellow in the hall, followed by a distinct feline growl. "Definitely Rhys, and... Leeta?"

Azure follows a step behind you, hand instinctively moving to a satchel that isn't there. "Please... who is Rhys?"

The yelling and growling fade somewhat into a murmured voice. Tahir peers out into the hallway and hesitantly steps outside. "Rhys Iaokim, he's my brother of sorts."

Azure still follows a step behind. "Of sorts," she repeats, peeking into the hallway and looking about cautiously.

------

A Shadow's Breadth Away
It is what you make of it.

The headache faded into sleep, and the sleep faded into nightmares. Death is no stranger to Fire-Mane, and yet even in this strange new world it seems to constantly rip at her. Is this truly how life must be? Or is this simply the fate of the marked ones like the shamans once said? There are bodies, torn and broken, horrible images of war and betrayal; and just when you think it's too much it all fades. The cheetah awakens in a bed, the smells of the room and the sounds are distant in her memory, and yet familiar. Murmurs in the hallway about the next raid on Darkside and Inquisitrix Vindicta's new post in Fleufille can be heard. A chair scrapes against the cold floor in the chambers, and that ever familiar buzz of florescent lights hisses in your ears.

At first, she just lies there, her eyes blinking and fixed on the light overhead. A dream? Azure's gift again, or something more. It can't all have been a dream, it was too long, too painful. Confused, the savanite sits up, looking around.

A pleasant humming fills your ears as a familiar robed figure sits at the desk, scribbling away at something. A stick of pungent incense burns overhead, giving the room a sweet smoky sort of air to it and adding to the dream aura of it all. You're in your under dress, just like you were when you fell asleep in Azure's office. Of course, you slept in that in Tahir's room as well.

/Tahir?/ Of course he can't see her signs, but he's the one sight that could turn her tears of sadness to tears of joy. She wipes her forearm across her eyes and leaps to the floor. Crossing to the desk she lays one hand on the figure's shoulder, and leans around his side to wave happily at him. /Tahir! I've missed you so./

The boy turns and with one fluid gesture flips the hood of his robe back with a delicate unscarred hand, revealing hard eyes and shortly cropped hair. "Boo," Rhys says, smiling up at you.

She links. Blinks again. It's not him. She returns the smile, though hers has the wry twist of a shared joke. Fire-Mane bows her head. /You fooled me, I swore you'd never be able to, but you got me this time. Where's Tahir? Why are you in his room?/

Rhys rises slowly, brushing his robes off. "You tell me, Leeta. Funny, aren't I supposed to be dead? Remember that day? Gods, but that was a show, wasn't it?" He walks around the room, absently touching books and picking up little nicknacks and baubles. "Why are you in this room, Leeta?"

Leeta coughs, feeling a tenseness in her throat, a rising panic and an unreasonable fear. Her hands wave erratically, /But... but no. No I don't remember that day.../ A wetness in her eyes again, the walls seeming to bulge and bow as her focus is disturbed. There is a desperate clench in her fingers, /... and I'm here because I'm supposed to be here. This is Tahir's room./

"You don't remember? Here, I'll refresh your memory. They treated it like a holiday, everyone in Rephidim was invited to view it after the trial." Rhys's voice is perfectly calm as he picks up a little snowglobe and shakes it. "First they executed the lower class people, Kavi and rats mostly. Quite a show, they stuck them on nooses, hacked their guts open and dropped them. If their necks didn't snap then their innards flopping out usually did soon enough. Of course the noble born who couldn't buy their way out were treated with a bit more mercy. Executed Gallis style." He mimics a chopping motion with his hand and brings it down on his neck, his eyes crossing and his tongue sticking out comically. "And then there was me. I suppose I should feel honored really... I mean, I was the first person to get the great throne in almost fifty years."

Leeta shakes her head, violently from side to side. /No! No! I don't... I don't... I don't want to remember. I don't.../ She does, and a tear runs through the fur on her right cheek, and soaks into the fur on the edge of her jaw. She sniffs, her nostrils getting thick and plugged. Looking up, she glares. /How could you Rhys? How were you so stupid! What possessed you? You were better and more liked than he, you got all the comforts and status without having to take the tedium. You were to help him! He trusted you! Why?!/ Her question finishes with her hands balled into fists.

Rhys continues to regard you coldly. "They strapped me in that thing so that everyone in the crowd could see. Then they turned it on. Tell me, Leeta, do the lights in the Temple really flicker? An instant where all the power of the Temple is channeled into that chair. Zap, and I was cooked meat on a stick. I hear they even destroyed my brain tape." He holds out the snowglobe and drops it. "I was better and more liked, and I didn't have a puppy helping me... And yet he still won." The globe shatters, glass and water and bits of glitter spill out onto the floor. "It was obvious that I was never meant to win that contest, and I hated to Temple for it. I swore to bring it and its mass of puppets down for being the gutless frauds that they were."

/They do. They did./ She stares at the broken globe on the floor, and it makes sense. The bits of sparkle winking under the fluorescents as the water spreads across the stone. Her eyes raise from the floor, locking on Rhys. /I am Fire-Mane and unjustly a slave, and you know it. You did not want any help, need any help, and if you'd asked for a puppy one would have been given to you. We were not friends at first, I grant that, but I thought that was left at Tarsus. Didn't we have fun nights away at the private training, when all the people we had to play act for were gone, and we could remove the pretense?/

Rhys shakes his head. "I had friends. When I got back from Tarsus they were all gone. You remember Moffat? He was hardly my friend, but he helped introduce me to plenty of people. I came home to find most of that web crushed, and I was nothing more than a spare tire. Tahir would have been content as a spare tire, but I wasn't." His boot crunches over the glass as he crosses the room to another bookshelf. "I had to play act in front of everyone. You, the guards, the knights, the Bridge, the Inquisitors. I knew I'd never be anything more than a pawn all my life, and I'd have rather died a king than live as a pawn. So when they told me their plans to kidnap the Astromancer I played along. Then left enough clues to hang every last one of those bastards. You had no idea what was going on, Leeta, none at all."

Leetah presses her fists against her forehead, eyes closed tight. Following Rhys by sound and turning with him, but not wanting to face him. She flings her hands down. /Don't say that! This isn't you. You weren't like this! I was Moffats SLAVE!/ She thrusts her sign aggressively, as violently as a punch. She lets it hang, then her ones following are pleading, begging. /I dismantled that net. I kept that secret, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell Tahir, You knew they would kill you when it was found out! Was being second place worth killing yourself over?/

"YES!" Rhys roars. "Trust you? You think I didn't know you were the one who brought down Moffat? What the hell was I supposed to tell you, Leeta... 'Oh yes, I'm having regular dealings with Faraon who is helping me sneak out of the temple and trying to set me up as the next Astromancer." He shakes his head. "You had the guards in your pocket, you had already brought Moffat down. I knew if I'd so much as hinted to you that I was dealing with Faraon I was slitting my own throat. Or else I'd owe you some great debt, and I'll be damned to hell before I ever owe a slave." The words are the angry tone of a child, yet hold the weight of an adult man's roar. "I died happy, because I got to see all of those bastards go down before I did."

Leeta glares at Rhys, her hands swiping through the air. /Do you know what my dream was? To get that damn Speaker-Glove repaired and get up during some high holy celebration and say, SAY WITH SOUNDS: You Noble Chong, you poisoned your daughter so your wife would move back to the Himar and you could take up with your mistress; You Lady Delilac, have arranged so many deaths of husbands that you'd think a blind man could see your game, yet still they line up; You Senior Technomancer, have a thing for little boys and amputations are are the reason behind the disappearances of street children; and you, you're innocent, and if you wonder why these people have not been brought to justice it's because they're being protected! Then list every single last one of them, fight off the guards trying to silence me with the Battle-Glove, and root them out./

/And you already owed me for convincing Tahir to tell the truth about the accident that burned him, when he could have gotten rid of you then./ Fire-Mane's eyes remain locked on Rhys, her hands moving dangerously slow, and she growls as she signs.

Rhys' expression stays calm and flat. "And I paid that debt back when I kept the underground from leaking word that the Astromancer's slave was a savanite princess. They knew, Leeta, and they would have done more than simple blackmail if I hadn't stepped in. So you would have taken everyone down in your own blaze of glory, just like me." He chuckles. "We're not so different, I think. But remember that you had a purpose. And your purpose was to die as much as mine was. We could either wait for our time, or die in one great blaze. Shall we pingpong debts and moralities back and forth? Does it bother you so much that I died, or does it offend you so much that I refused to take what was given me and be a good little candidate?"

Leeta stops growling, and lets her hands down. Her head hangs. A heavy sigh, a slow breath, she brings up her arms and starts anew. /It bothers me that you died. It bothers me that I never got to say goodbye. It bothers me that after all we've been through together, we still don't seem to be friends./ She holds that sign for a lingering moment. A tear slips down her left cheek, then one on her right and she sniffs again. /...and it bothers me that I did all the right things, and it didn't matter. Take down Moffat, be a good little slave, and all the people saying 'be patient' were lying and hoping the problem would go away in time./

"Listen closely Leeta, I wanted to die. I was resurrected into this useless body into the decayed hulk of my ship. I was used as a pawn, then left in the dirt and then picked up and cleaned off only to be used as a pawn again. We were back from Tarsus a week when I made my decision that I'd bring them down, and I knew that the only way a pawn can bring down a king is to sacrifice everything. You were Tahir's bodyguard, trained to throw yourself in front of bullets and arrows to save him." He holds up a hand, counting off on his fingers. "Death is usually sudden, pointless, and rarely makes time for goodbyes. If you'd died protecting Tahir, you think you could bank on a goodbye before the arrow hit?"

She shudders and stares. /No,/ and she knows it to be all true.

"Yes, of sorts. We were clones," a voice murmurs from the hallway. A mop of red hair attached to a young boy appears in the door and surveys the room. Rhys, seated at the desk (the room is identical to the one Azure just left) just rolls his eyes. "And the cavalry has arrived. It's a big comfortable room, make yourselves comfortable. Mind the glass." He gestures to a shattered snowglobe on the floor before focusing on Leeta again. "Then you understand. I died with no regrets. It makes it rather pointless that someone else has regrets because I died, doesn't it?"

Leeta nods, head dropping and raising slowly, eyes linger on Rhys then she draws herself up to her full height. It causes her to look down on the boy, but it's important that she stand at attention. /I understand now. It was not idiocy and jealousy, you were the person I knew you to be. There was a crisis and you sacrificed yourself to save the ship. Thank you Captain./ Fire-Mane finishes her sign, and whips it up into a salute.

Azure hovers just inside the doorway, looking perfectly calm to one who doesn't know her, but quite uncomfortable to one who does. She looks from Tahir to Rhys and back, almost afraid to acknowledge Leeta.

Rhys salutes Leeta, then tugs his hood on and makes his way to the door. "You're welcome, soldier. Now, I think my work here is done. Give 'em hell, bro." He punches Tahir's shoulder as he passes, leaving the boy looking confused as he rubs his pained arm.

Tahir shakes his head as he enters the room the rest of the way. "There you are, Leeta. Would you mind explaining what's going on? I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit lost at the moment. Oh, this is Azure. I think she's supposed to be my geography teacher."

Leeta is ignoring Azure, as if she has become another one of the uncomfortable pitfalls in this room that must be tip-toed around and avoided. Instead, she watches Rhys exit then drops out of her pose and flings herself at the other boy. She hugs him tight, pulls out of the embrace to sign, her face gleeful and smiling. /Tahir! I've missed you! I'm so glad to see you!/

Azure sidesteps out of Rhys's way, and remains silently in her new place, still near the door. Leeta's actions only confirm the growing feeling that she doesn't belong here, and though her hands are lightly clasped in a graceful position before her, her fingers are actually quite rigid and her knuckles are white.

/Rhys explained everything! He wasn't a drunken lout. It was all an act, the only way he could get at the corruption in Temple. He couldn't take being a pawn, the state the ship had fallen to. It was they only way he could give meaning to his life./ Leeta's hands fly in explanation.

"Rhys but... He's dead, isn't he? Wait.." Tahir glances at the hallway again, then back to Azure, then he reaches out and puts his hands on Leetah's shoulders. "That.. That explains things I guess. But.. Leeta, it only makes me want to ask more questions." His own eyes start to water a bit. "Fire-Mane, you went back to the City of Hands, how can you be here again? And... Look at me. I thought I'd grown."

Fire-Mane nods, enthusiastically agreeing. So happy to see Tahir she wouldn't contradict him now, wouldn't want the slightest negativity to slip in. /I did, for my sister's coronation and you're much bigger now.../ Her signs trail off. She could be dropped in the frozen wastes, and that would feel warm compared to the chill down her spin. /... no..../

Azure backs up, pressing against the wall as small as she can make herself. Again she blinks hard a couple times, willing herself calm.

Leetah turns haunted eyes on Azure. Seeing her. Eyes so bleak and drained of hope. /... no..../ A small cry, a gasp, tears. She shakes her head.

Tahir looks just as lost as Azure. "Your sister... The city..." He grasps the cheetah's arm as though testing to see if she's real or not, then he looks back at Azure. "You said you're a dream mage, right? Am I having nightmares again? Leetah's gone. I'm... I'm old. I think I am. Older than this..."

/Don't make it end. I don't want to go back./ Leetah signs at Azure, shaking her head, unable to stop the cut off cries and whimpers that come as she sobs. /Let me stay. All my friends die when I wake up./

Azure turns her head away, eyes full of despair and shame at the look that Leetah gives her. Her hands move of their own will, sliding up her opposite arms until she's hugging herself tightly. "He is as cruel as He is loving," she whispers softly, having now begun to understand what she perceives as her intended role in this. "Thou wast warned, na-Chait, by His own tongue."

"He who?" Tahir blurts out, reaching a hand out to Leetah's face. "Fire-Mane... Leeta..." The words come out half choked and confused. "You're gone, Leeta. I'm an old man, you, you're gone. When the City of Hands fell."

/You're ruining it!/ Her eyes red and swollen, her nose so stuffed up she has to breathe through her mouth, and even that comes in abortive gasps. /Is this the darkness without the Star? Where everything I love is stripped from me?/ A moan, when Tahir touches her. She rubs against his hand, holding onto it, pressing it against her face. A long, desperate, animal wail of pain escaping her. /I love you Tahir! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know. Don't think about it. We can pretend. Rhys won't be dead. I won't be... gone. Don't go, don't go, don't go./

Azure sighs silently, the exhalation catching once in her throat. She's still turned away toward the wall, face half obscured by the fall of her indigo hair, holding herself and staying out of the way. Not all nightmares, after all, are meant to be soothed, especially ones created by this hand... regardless of what instinct might tell her she could say to the Savanite now.

Tahir starts pushing at Leeta, frowning and shaking his head. "It took me months of accepting that you were gone, Leeta. I... I made a proclamation. They all hated me for it, but I stood by it. When they told me everyone in the city was killed I declared all the slaves of Rephidim free." He reaches up and grasps her face. "I'm a scientist, not a child. You know I don't play pretend games."

Leetah steps back and kneels, looking up at Tahir, her hands begging. /I know, somehow I know. But I haven't had months Tahir, just weeks. In a twisted place still so much like home. It feels like years and no time at all, I think I'm going insane... and... no hope... nothing Tahir... I failed you, I can't remember. I miss you so much. I'm sorry, I hate crying in front of you and making pitiful noises... it's all torn away.../

Azure bites at the ring in her lip, her teeth making a tiny soft click, as the words spark her own memories. She turns her face further away, as if to give the two more privacy during the brief time they have together.

Tahir cracks a smile. "Failed me? How? The Silent Ones made you a minor saint after setting up their planet gate." He sighs and tries to wipe the slave girl's tears away. "I'd like to see this as getting a second chance. I never got to tell you that I set the slaves free. We hadn't quite gotten to having savanites in the inquisition, but some joined the inquisition. Oh! Your sister, Storm-Hand? She became a Knight Templar, of the violet lance. I sponsored her. Shh now. Stop with the tears. I missed you, don't make me remember you like this."

Leetah nods, swallowing, wiping at her face as well. /They did? The legends, real Silent Ones? and Storm-Hand is a Knight Templar?/ The shock alone is enough to make her stop crying. The content of the news itself makes her smile. She gets up to stand near him and signs eagerly. /Thank you, for the slaves. I've wanted to tell you that for so long. So many things, so many changes. I would like a second chance./

/What was I made a saint of?/ Leetah asks, after a moment's consideration.

"It's been weeks for you, but decades for me, Leeta," Tahir says softly, then laughs at the cheetah's question. "The unknown. Princess Fire-Mane, patron Silent One's saint of the unknown. They invoke your name as a guiding light for the darkness." He tousles the cheetah's hair. "And to the best of my knowledge, I kept Rephidim from falling from the sky for the rest of my days." He sighs, his smile fading slowly.

Leetah smiles, nuzzling her head against his hand, enjoying the feel of her mane being messed up. A strong purr starting, rumbling through her. Loud as she can, to try and restore his smile./That is nice, I like it. I knew you'd keep Rephidim on course, you are the greatest Astromancer. I'm sorry I was not there, I promised I'd never leave you and I did. I would have died if it would have freed the slaves... and I don't want to think about it. I remember Nagai ships, glowing with fire as they rose over the city... Tahir... you still.../

She hesitates, the peace she feels is so delicate she doesn't want to disturb it. /Tahir... the only reason I have any will left to live is the hope I will see you again. That there is a way out of where I am... I.../ The savanite's signs halt again.

Tahir bites his lip and nods. "I'd like to see you for real one last time myself. I'm older now. I've changed a bit. I don't know. But I'll try to wait for you. Will that be enough?" He glances back at Azure. "Maybe we can manage to do this again somehow. With the help of your dream mage?"

Even with her eyes closed, Azure still 'hears' both halves of the conversation, such is the way of dreams. She nods slowly. "Anytime you wish it."

Slowly, Azure starts to feel more in control, as though someone were very slowly handing over the reins of the dream to her. She can stop it, change it, or keep it going however she wishes.

/I don't care how old you are, I just want to come back./ Leetah purrs loudly, gazing at Tahir, nodding happily. /It will be enough, knowing you're there. Please wait, I'll come, I will, and until I can see you for real, a dream will be enough. It's so unusual here, magic much more powerful, the technology works like I read in the books. You'd be so fascinated! I'd love to tell you about it./

Leetah turns, waving towards the elf, signing for Tahir. /I should introduce her, she is Azure. A sister to me now, and very powerful with her gift of dreams and healing./

"She needs to work on her geography though," Tahir says with a grin then sighs. "I'll wait. I'll try to wait. I never quite gave up that you were gone, but it grew harder to believe as the years went by. But I'll do my best, Leeta."

Azure bows her head deeply to the pair of you, her image fading even as she moves. The wall behind her is visible, and then she's gone completely, leaving the two of you alone, as if she'd never been there at all.

/I was lost./ Leetah lowers her head, /but I think I'm getting better now. I will find my way through this unknown space./

Tahir nods again and jumps a little as the elf disappears. "I'm glad to know that the Nagai didn't..." He frowns, then blinks several times. "I think I'm waking up." He chuckles. "I'm getting old, Leeta. There's days when it's hard to tell if I'm asleep or still awake."

Leetah nods, her ears popping as Azure vanishes. That was unexpected. /I think I am as well. One last hug, then I'll go first and make sure it's safe?/ She doesn't wait for an answer, slipping her arms around her friend.

Tahir hugs you back tightly. "I saw my reflection and barely recognized myself." He laughs. "Still my bodyguard. And just so I don't go crazy out of curiosity, what did Rhys say to you?"

Leetah holds on, signing. Tahir will understand if he can't see. She's sure. /He told me he felt useless, used, was not content to sit around as a spare wheel. When he was contacted by Faraon to kidnap you, he agreed, then left obvious clues so everyone involved would get caught. He didn't want to owe me, or trust me... and I believe he wanted to show he would have been a good choice as Astromancer as well, that he could do something without you. He decided in the weeks after we got back from Tarsus, and spent those years pretending to be a drunken bastard so they would not suspect. He wanted to take them down in a blaze of glory./

/He said that he died without regrets, so no one should have regrets that he died. That he and I were trained to protect you, and our duties might not leave time for goodbyes./ Fire-Mane signs.

Tahir sighs and nods. "There's always a better way, but Rhys always did like the dramatic route." He pats your cheek again. "I've missed you. They gave me your mandolin. I still have it. I've never tried to play it though."

Leetah nuzzles against Tahir's hand, her purr still loud and he can feel her bones vibrating with it beneath her fur. She rubs her neck against his wrist, marking, looking into his eyes, her own bright and sparkling. /Rhys did, didn't he. I love that mandolin too, and I understand. It wouldn't sound right if it didn't sing the way I can make it. Keep it safe, let it remind you of me, I'm thinking about you always./

The boy laughs and scratches your chin. "We'll see each other again. Now, go make sure the path is safe. I'll wait for you, Leeta."

Leetah wills with all her being, a silent wish to the Star, to Turael that the mandolin will play for Tahir when he wakes up. A simple scale, the way she would when she was warming up. A promise, that it this wasn't merely a dream, and that she will be back. Somehow. Someday.

Leetah gives the quick kiss of her tongue against Tahir's fingers then nods. Standing, ears perked and alert, she approaches the door. She blocks it with her body, providing cover as she checks as she was trained. All directions, floor, walls, ceiling. Look for anything that has changed since she memorized the way in. A scent-taste for something that should not be there. Whiskers feeling for air currents. She signs behind her, /All clear. It's good,/ then leaps.

The boy steps back and rests his hands on your arms. "Goodbye Fire-Mane," he says softly, his hands echoing the words as everything fades around you, vision resolving into a familiar ceiling in a familiar hospital room.

Fire-Mane comes awake, as suddenly as if she'd jumped into a pool. She smiles. Everything feels okay. It's a feeling she's missed, and she lies there thinking about the ones she missed and how good it was to see them again.

------

Azure wakes with a violent start and bolts out of bed and out to the backyard, not noticing or caring that she's still naked.

Peter hops into his shorts as he follows you, tugging them up with a gown draped across his arm as he runs into the yard after you.

Azure isn't hard to find -- she's stopped just outside the door, breathing deeply. Long, shaky gulps of air, as though there hadn't been any oxygen in the house and she'd been starved for it.

Peter slips behind you and puts a hand on your back. "Raindrop? Love? What happened? Are you okay?"

Azure takes a step forward, her inked skin sliding out from under your touch. She sinks slowly to the grass a few feet away from you, drawing her knees up and hugging them to her chest. "I need a minute."

Peter draws a hand back and nods, crouching down behind you and holding the robe in his hands. His hair is sticking out at odd angles from sleeping with it damp. He doesn't say anything, just simply crouches there and lets the night noises trickle through the garden around the two of you.

Azure lowers her forehead to her knees. It's harder to breathe that way, though, so she turns her head to the side and rests her feverish cheek there instead, still taking long deep breaths, letting them out slowly.

The bathrobe Peter's clutching rustles as he mangles it with his hands. He just sits there though, a warm presence behind you, waiting until you're ready and simply reminding you that you're not alone.

She shifts, and her knee must brush the stone at her throat -- suddenly the soft sound of rushing water accompanies the animated falls where their movement is visible between the tendrils of her hair. "I'm sorry," Azure whispers finally, after several minutes of just night and water sounds. "I just needed air."

"It's okay. You were kicking around and I couldn't wake you up," Peter whispers back, his voice mixing with the water noises so easily that it almost sounds as though the waters themselves are speaking. "Do you want to stay out here? I can make you some tea."

Azure shakes her head without lifting it. "I couldn't wake myself up, either. But it's alright." The elf sighs, going quiet for another few minutes. "No tea, but... I'll take the robe now?" she offers finally. You know it's not about the robe really, though; she's letting you know she's ready to be touched.

Peter doesn't get up from his crouch, instead just sort of waddling along the dirt until he's behind you. He wraps the robe around your shoulders and then leans against your back. The cloth is faintly warm from being held against his chest. "Anything else I can do, love?"

Azure takes her hand across her body as if hugging herself, sliding it up her opposite arm and over her shoulder, raising her fingers in a prompt for yours. "Tell me again that you want to marry me. Promise me we won't waste a moment of what we have together."

Peter wraps his arms behind you and hugs you tightly against him. His legs stretch out and add to the little cocoon. "I'd marry you right now if it wouldn't mess up your plans. I'd marry you now and then and every single day for the rest of our lives and it wouldn't match the devotion I have for you. And I'll never waste a moment. I treasure every second I have with you, and I'm grateful for every moment I get to spend with you." He kisses your neck gently, his lips are slightly cold from the chill air.

Azure's breath catches in her throat, a small sob. She leans slowly back against you. "I've never had trouble waiting for anything before, the way I'm having trouble waiting for this. And why? It's not that it's a burdensome secret to keep. It's not like a ceremony will change how we feel or act or live. Why is it so hard to wait?"

His hands brush through your hair as he nuzzles against your neck. "Because the two of us try to be honest. You know my last two marriages were messes because of people keeping secrets, and your wife died because she tried to keep a secret." He sighs. "Love, if it's tearing you up then the date be damned. Let's pack up tonight and head out in the morning. I'm serious."

Azure stiffens, turning in your arms to find your eyes in the darkness. She looks at you measuringly, just as seriously. "Morning be damned. We could go now."

Peter studies your eyes and then nods sharply. "Then let's pack. We'll leave a note with the college that you're not going to be in tomorrow morning, and I'll leave a note to master Devir." He starts to get to his feet, pulling you along with him and kissing you gently as he stands.

31: Bad News

2005-03-28T05:06:21Z

People: Peter, Leetah, Azure, Mikaru, Mikhail, Thanatos
Location: Healer's College
Played: December 2, 2004

[Healing Room B]
Though still a hospital room, it looks more comfortable than its neighbours along the hallway. There are the standard two beds, with a curtain which can be drawn between them for privacy, but the bed under the window at the far wall looks a little bigger than the other, and has been made up with a soft blue quilt. A small stand for a harp sits just past the foot of the bed, a simple chair beside it. A few other small personal touches mark this as more than just another infirmary room. Someone lives here, perhaps, even if they're not here right now.
Wooden cabinets along the wall hold medical supplies and spare linens. White shelves separating the banks of cabinets contain a varicoloured collection of small glass bottles. A lamp topped with a stained glass shade sits on the sturdy worktable below the shelves, providing gentle light. Beyond the cabinets, a solitary sink is against the wall in the left corner. The bed closer to the door is plainly made and looks ready to accept a patient; a rolling cart of instruments and a flexible long-necked lamp are standing by.

The bed by the window currently has an occupant, who stirs beneath the covers then sits up. A red-haired savanite rubs her eyes, looking around the room. She winces, rubbing at her forehead, her eyes a little unfocused. Some drug wore off too soon, or hasn't worn off enough. For the moment, she lies there, staring at the ceiling.

The smell of something that reminds Leetah of Rhrugrat wafts through the room as Peter, who's awake now, opens up a small tupperware container. He's also tending to a brewing pot of tea, the steam smells nice and seems to relax her somewhat. Not exactly enough to make the cheetah feel sleepy again, but more just centered.

Leetah's whiskers splay forward as she sniffs, smelling the tea. She moves the curtain enough to look out into the room, at its other occupant and gives a little wave. She blinks her eyes a few more times.

Peter looks over his shoulder. "Ah. Morning there sunshine, or evening really. Azure had some work to do elsewhere and I didn't want to leave you alone." He walks over, carefully holding the bowl which appears to hold broth in it. "Here. Azure can't give you meat, but your teeth don't strike me as salad munchers so I smuggled you in something. If you can hold this down we'll switch to something a little more substantial."

Leetah nods, perking up, very interested in the broth and sniffing towards it a few times. There is a slight blush in her ears, perhaps at the thought that someone examined her and saw her teeth while she was sleeping. Of course, she has met Peter before, maybe he was just remembering. It might also be a simple flush to her skin, prompted by motion after lying still for so long. She takes the bowl, and seems to be looking for a spoon.

Peter just sort of stands there and watches, then it registers. "Oh! Right. Sorry.. I was figuring you'd just drink it down. Just a second, they gave me a little plastic thing..." He digs through some plastic bags on the counter and offers a little plastic wrapped soup spoon.

Leetah smiles, taking the spoon, and dipping it in the soup. She could have just lapped it down, but it may be a little hot for her. She tests the temperature the first few times and blows across her spoonful before eating. Slowly, the broth disappears.

Peter walks around the bed to where your mandolin is resting. "Is it all right if I take a look at it? I'll be gentle as a lamb, I swear. I just have a thing for instruments." He grins. "Boy or girl? Have you named it?"

Leetah watches, nodding as he approaches her mandolin, giving a wave of permission. She looks puzzled at Peter's next two questions, as if they're perfectly sensible but the thought never occurred to her. She shakes her head slightly.

Peter gently takes the instrument and sets it in his lap. "I had a violin named Bella once. Well, technically I still do, but we put her away. I don't play as well as I used to." He plays a simple scale. "No name? Well, I always considered lutes and guitars and things to be ladies because of how they're shaped. And a name will come to you. Usually they tell you after awhile."

Leetah grins, lauging silently, her hands and ears fluttering about before she traces an hourglass shape in the air, looks over and winks.

There's a quiet double knock at the door, and then it peeks open, just far enough for a slight elf to slip inside. She's changed into jeans and a halter top, and carries her stained dress bundled in her hand.

"Yeah, there was Bella the violin, and junior has a lute. I named her Jezebel for him. She was a bit of a bitch... Snapped strings if you didn't treat her just right." Peter chuckles and sets the mandolin again. "Oh! Hey raindrop. Mind the smell, I brought Leeta some broth."

Leetah looks up from her bowl, forgoing the spoon and sucking the remainder of it down. Her muzzle wrinkles at the smell on the dress. Blood again, not surprisingly as this is a hospital, but the cheetah is smelling that quite often.

Azure pauses in the doorway. It's hard to tell what reaches her senses first; the smell of meat, the sight of Peter actually touching a musical instrument, or just the fact that the two of you are still here. "I couldn't feel either of you. I wasn't sure if you'd be awake, or gone." She bumps the door closed behind her. "Though... gone would mean awake too, I suppose," she flounders, kneading the fabric in her hands. She's distracted, oddly so, and doesn't seem to hear the knock when it comes to the door at her back.

Peter takes the bowl quickly and moves to one of the sinks, washing it out quickly. "She just woke up. I snuck out for food." He clears his throat and looks past Azure's shoulder towards the door. "Yes?"

Leetah tilts her head curiously at Azure, watching her hands, what she's doing. Her ears flick in the direction of the door. She caught the knock. She watches Peter wash out her bowl, while licking the last traces off her fingers.

Azure follows Leetah's gaze down to her hands, turning the garment over. "Punctured lung," she offers by way of explanation, finding her feet and walking toward the laundry chute in the wall, sending the dress down. "Messy." She casts about, uncertain where to sit, even though this is her room.

Mikaru knocks once more, whipping her tail about her legs, breathing a silent sigh.

Peter cleans the bowl meticulously and then sets it on the counter to dry. He nods Azure towards the bed and starts pouring the tea he's put on. "As long as it wasn't Antiph eating another bullet." HE nods towards the door. "Expecting someone, Raindrop?"

Leetah waves at Azure, pointing at her things on the chair and making grabbing motions, like she wants them. It would make the bed crowded, but clear a seat.

Azure moves dazedly toward the larger bed, waving away Leetah's offer with a gentle pat to the cat's arm. "Not expecting anyone. See who it is?"

Peter shrugs and sets the three mugs down to cool, then walks to the door, opening it a crack as he peers at Mikaru. "Yes?"

The cheetah isn't looking fully there herself, something in the way her motions are delayed. Like a thought takes a half minute or so to wind around her mind before turning into an action. A drowsiness, or lingering sedation, or fatigue that won't let go. She pulls up her feet, giving Azure a place to sit on the bed, and curiously watches the door.

Mikaru peers around Peter, then looks up at him, "Mister Petrov wished to know if the cat had died." Mikhail probably didn't use the same words, but after having the door closed in her face and her knocks ignored, she's in poor spirits.

Azure curls up at the head of the bed, arms protectively wrapped around a pillow. "Mister Petrov may be informed that the cat is fine. Mister Petrov was already informed of this earlier today, when we discussed such matters at length. Thank you." She speaks as though from a great distance, like she's really somewhere else entirely.

[Mikaru]
Mikaru Diesz is an enchanting and exotic young woman standing around five-foot-nothing, immediately eye catching though for different reasons to different people. Besides being lovely and buxom with deep gem-like eyes, her light gray skin and membranous wings tend to draw some attention. Her torso and face are more or less human, and it looks like she's got four limbs, which is usually enough for her to be treated with some degree of respect.
Her face is quite beautiful, youthful with soft features, a pert nose, and large, intelligent golden eyes like stones of tiger's eye. Her ears are long and pointed, with a small fin-like flap resting across the lobe. Her soft, dark gray lips almost always pressed in an indifferent line. When she smiles though, she shows off slightly elongated canine teeth. Framing her face is beautiful black hair, silky but umkempt, about shoulder-length. Set in the center of her forehead is a gleaming spherical onyx, actually embedded in her flesh. On either side of her neck are the subtle slits of gills. The muscles of her upper body are lean and small, not marring the smooth curves of a feminine body, yet are extremely well toned, and with good reason.
Her arms are actually large wings similar to those of a bat, with three clawed fingers and a thumb at the wrist, then greatly elongated phalanges to support a thin membrane of skin that forms the surface of her wings and attach to her flanks from shoulder to ribcage. The wings are quite flexible, and are usually folded so they rest against her sides with the tips pointing up and behind her.
But these are not her only inhuman features. Sprouting from the end of her spine is a long whip-like tail that forks half-way down into two, which are slightly fanned at the tips. Her rounded hips lead into powerful shapely legs that end with elongated feet. She stands upon her three toes, which have large talons upon them, and on each heel is an opposable claw that tends to hang in the air when she walks. Her feet are somewhat reminiscent of those of a bird of prey. Emerging from each hip is a pair of smooth slender tentacles that wave gently about her legs, each with a slightly thicker tip that's flecked in black pigments that continue up the last few inches of the tentacle. On the outer side of each knee and continuing down her calf to her ankle is a fan-like fin that can be extended like a small wing for stability in the air.
It's difficult to tell just what she is. Clearly she isn't human, yet is recognizably humanoid, but she also doesn't seem to be a dragon or demon. Despite certain monstrous aspects of her anatomy, she is human enough to be exotically beautiful, resulting in a popular theory that she's some sort of water nymph. Others focus on her powerful legs and wing-like arms, and say she's a sea harpy. She moves with deliberate strength and grace, and it's easy to tell by the way she carries herself that she is exceptionally flexible.

Peter waves a hand and smiles genially. "There you go. Anything else?" He glances back at the two ladies. "I guess you can tell Mister Petrov that the cat is just fine."

Mikaru bows politely to Peter, then the doctor, and finally Leetah, "Thank you." Without another word, she turns back down the hall.

Leetah's pupils get very large as she catches sight of Mikaru, what little she can see of her past Peter seems enough to alarm her. Her ears flick and she glances between the human and the elf. Who is this Mister Petrov, and why would he be concerned about her? The room also starts doing a wobbly thing, best to pretend that everything is fine. She's okay, she nods.

Azure sighs, relaxing a little. Or maybe just curling into a tighter ball around the pillow. "Mikhail," she explains to Leetah tiredly, with a longing glance toward the tea on the worktable. "But we spoke earlier. He'd have had no need to send a messenger to ask such a question."

Peter closes the door and anticipates Azure enough. He scoops up the mug and hands it to Azure, then puts an arm around Leetah to hold her steady and press the mug of tea in her hands. "Mikhail I know. Just as long as Mister Petrov isn't that thing's daddy. If it was, I was going to start barricading the door."

Leetah takes the cup of tea, holding it. Staring down at the liquid surface, watching it ripple. Her head tracks from side to side as she continues to stare, then she finally remembers to drink. A sip, another sip. She leans against Peter and looks at Azure with a kind of lost expression.

Azure sets the mug on the bed before her, resting her head on the pillow sideways and just watching the steam rise. "Why so lost, Leetah? I know why I'm lost. Why are you lost?"

Peter starts to look nervous. He's got a big cat leaning on him! Is he supposed to pet her or just keep her from falling over? He fidgets nervously with his hands and just sort of props Leetah up for now.

Leetah rocks her head, tilting it the other way. She points at the waste disposal, then concentrates, moves her hand to point at the door. She keeps staring, not saying anything and sipping her tea.

Azure sighs, finally bringing the tea to her lips, but not releasing her hold on the pillow. Her lip ring clinks gently against the earthenware mug as she drinks, the heat of the beverage not seeming to affect her. "I don't understand, Leetah," she whispers sadly. "I'm sorry.""Change of clothes? Feeling sick? Wants to take a walk?" Peter offers, reaching out and placing his fingertips under Leetah's mug to hold it steady.

Leetah blinks, Oh wait, Azure answered that question already. Her face takes on a puzzled expression, does she want to go for a walk? Why would she? Does Peter mean something else? No, she's fine. Her hands fumble, forming gestures. /I forgot, you can understand me. Was something going on? My head hurts./

A quiet knock, interrupts the conversation. "Mistress Leetah?" Mikhail calls softly from the other side of the door. "I was wondering if you wanted a vistor?"

Azure's lips part to answer, but the knock to the door silences her and she looks down, sinking even smaller against the pillows at the head of her bed against the window. "Nothing that should've affected you. I let you sleep, that's all. It's probably just the medication you took wearing off," she answers slowly, still somewhat dazed herself, and curls her hands more tightly around the heat of the mug. If she could disappear into the corner and vanish, she probably would.

Peter puts a hand on Leetah's shoulder to steady her and then slips away, carefully moving to Azure's side of the bed and trying to climb up with her. "That would be mister Petrov, right?" He kisses the elf's ear. "Shh, baby. It'll be okay."

Leetah looks at Peter, does she want a visitor? She seems to brighten a little hearing Mikhail's voice, though it's followed by a frown. She remembers drinking, hoping he's better now. Peter and Azure's actions seem so strange, she keeps watching them. She nods, which of course Mikhail can't see through the door. What now? She could chirp, but that never works. She looks at the door and nods again.

Azure watches Leetah. "Go ahead. You can open it. Or you can meet him out in the hall if you want privacy. Whatever you'd like, na-Chait," she offers weakly, distantly. She barely seems to notice Peter's touch.

Leetah slips to her feet, swaying, looking at Azure with her hands fluttering. /Are you okay? What's wrong?/

Peter just keeps petting Azure's head, trying to be comforting for one reason or another.

Mikhail opens the door hesitantly, glancing into the room. "Am I interupting anything?" he asks quietly.

Azure shakes her head lightly, her hair brushing Peter's skin. "It's nothing. I wore myself out healing, and the dreams.. so much harder to block out all the dreams here when I'm not focusing on a particular one. Invite him in," she offers, reaching belatedly for Peter's hand. "I'll interpret if you'd like."

Leetah stands in front of the second bed, the one nearest the window. She's wearing only a long shirt that goes down to her mid thighs. She holds a cup of tea, and has an innocent sort of expression, as if she's not fully aware of things going on around her. She smiles at Mikhail and waves for him to come over.

"Pull up a chair, have a cup of tea," Peter says as he pulls Azure's head into his lap. "We've met before but I don't think formally. Peter Vilete, I'm Azure's fiance."

Mikhail nods to Azure and Peter as he walks into the room towards Leetah. "My thanks, Master Viete," he replies. "Mikhail Petrov. Nice to meet you." He turns back to Leetah and offers her a brief smile. "You look like you're feeling better than when we last saw each other," he tells her, talking a seat in a chair. "How are you?"

Azure curls up on Peter, abandoning her pillow for the better prospect. She clings to him at first, but slowly begins to relax, and takes another sip of her tea.

Leetah waves her hand in a non-commital sort of way. Not a positive gesture, not a negative one, and finishes with finger and thumb in an OK gesture. She flips her palm over, indicating Mikhail, and looks him over.

[Mikhail]
Mikhail is a tall, well built man with broad shoulders and a swarthy complexion. An angry scar runs down the left side of his face from brow to the middle of his cheek. His face is angular, with high sharp cheekbones, a heavily squared jaw and a hawkish, rather crooked nose. His sharp, dark eyes betray almost every emotion he feels. His curly ebon hair is worn unbound, falling just below his shoulders. He wears a loose sleeevd white shirt, with a black velvet jerkin over it, black jeans and scuffed riding boots. A broadsword hangs from the left side of his belt. The blade is not decorated with anything but a kanji and some small script, but it is finely crafted and perfectly balanced. The hilt is wrapped with plain leather, also of the highest quality. A matching long knife hangs from the opposite side of his belt, it also bears a kanji on the throat its blade. These weapons are usually kept sheathed. He carries a tattered leather satchel over one shoulder.

Peter works on smoothing Azure's hair as he gives Mikhail an acknowledging nod at his introduction. "Do you want a little boost, love? Something to hold you up a bit?" he whispers to the elf.

Mikhail isn't wearing his habitual jerkin nor his weapons, but other than looking a bit tired, he looks as she has usually seen him. A lingering sadness shows his in dark eyes, but that isn't all the strange either. "I've had much worse days, mistress," he tells her with a wry smile.

Azure shakes her head lightly, squeezing Peter's hand and lifting up a little to kiss his ear.

Leetah signs, /I'm feeling much better now. I've been sleeping. Are you okay? Is Jade and our Blind companion safe?/

Azure watches Leetah's hands, then nods. "She says she's feeling much better now that she's slept, and she asks after your other companions," she says quietly to Mikhail.

Peter slides a hand behind Azure's neck, burying his fingers in her hair.

Mikhail nods and lets out a long breath, looking visibly nervous. "I can only tell you what I know, mistress," he says slowly. "And I fear it is very grave news. You may wish to sit." He glances back at Azure, giving her a look that puts one in the mind of someone drowning.

Leetah sways on her feet, looking very worried. She manages to flip her tail up before landing on the bed, so it isn't caught uncomfortably. Her tea didn't spill, fortunately far enough down in the mug that the resulting slosh stayed in. She nods, watching Mikhail, her hand slowly clenching and unclenching. /bad news... no... bad news... no.../ More like she's unconsciously doing it than meaning for it to be seen.

Azure shivers lightly as Peter's fingers tickle the back of her neck, and she relaxes against him, looking suddenly a bit more peaceful. And a bit more focused as well. She looks patiently between the cheetah and the man, entwining her fingers with those of Peter's free hand, watching Mikhail with a curious, if still somewhat detached, expression.

Mikhail lets out another long breath and takes Leetah's paw gently in his. "Forgive me, msitress, as I know no soft way to tell you this," he explains. "Mistress Jade and Mistress Cecilia are dead." He winces at the words himself and cast his eyes downwards.

Peter rocks back and forth with the elf, still stroking her neck. He looks like he's straining a little for some reason or other.

Leetah cries out! A sharp noise of pain. Her eyes widen. She stares. The tea, that's dropped, the mug clattering on the floor. Her hands jumping and repeating the same symbol over and over again. /No No No No No No No No No No No/.

Azure snaps more aware, as if the room has come into clearer focus and other dimensions have faded to the background. She extends a hand unseen toward Leetah, the extent of her movement at the moment, crooning some soft sounding endearment in another tongue.

Leetah shakes her head, her hands, the movement obvious. No. She stares.

Mikhail rises to his feet, painfully and looks at her. "I am sorry," he says. "But I swear it is the truth, on my blood." He looks at her, the pain and sorrow in his eyes clear now.

Peter tries to sit up a little, taking the elf along with him. He gives Azure's ear another kiss and pulls his hand away from her neck.

Azure sits up at Peter's prompting, settling back against him and still holding his hand, just watching. Her eyes are dark with sympathy as her gaze flits from Leetah's face to her hands and back, not wanting to miss a sign.

Leetah grabs Mikhail's hands, holding onto him, her fingers curling and making her words against his palm, against his arm. Understand! Understand! She remembers to lift them so Azure can see. She squeezes her eyes shut, pressing one palm against her forehead. /How? Why? I never should have shared! This is all my doing./

"No, sweetheart, no..." Azure murmurs to Leetah, then turns her head slightly to take in Mikhail. "She asks how, and why, and fears it's all her fault for sharing," she relates sadly.

Peter wipes his hand off on something and starts trying to help Azure off the bed so she can go to the cheetah.

Mikhail looks at Leetah and shakes his head. "None of this is your fault, mistress," he tells her. "Mistress Jade shot Mistress Cecilia over some strange thing she called a 'security breech' and I don't believe she meant to hurt her so badly." He pauses, groping for a way to tell her what happened without upsetting her further. "I didn't want to kill Mistress Jade, but she had become so dangerus to others."

Leetah makes another small cry. Shrinking with fear away from Mikhail. Her hands flying through symbols again as she pulls her knees up. She signs, rather frantically. /No! You should not kill so much! You will kill me one day. No... no... why? She was hurt! We're all hurt? Don't you see?/

Leetah starts crying. They're... gone.

Azure glances meaningfully at Peter, sliding off the bed and crossing the couple of steps to the other. She slips up behind Leetah, touching her arms comfortingly as she had once before, in different circumstance. Looking past the cheetah's shoulder at Mikhail, she translates, "She chastises you for killing so much, and fears that you'll kill her some day. 'She was hurt.. We're all hurt,' she says." The elf turns her head to look at Leetah. "Sometimes, though, hurt can be dangerous."

Leetah prays, /Oh Star.../

Peter does the only thing that anyone that knows him would expect him to do in a situation like this. He snags a towel from a countertop and starts cleaning up the spilled tea from the dropped mug.

Mikhail just stands there looking between Leetah and Azure. He is visibly fighting down the rage that is quickly building within him. He throws his hands up in disgust, then winces as he realizes what a mistake that was.. He collapses back into the chair, staying silent.

Leetah cringes at the anger inside Mikhail, made visible. She ducks her head and tenses, waiting for the blow, an instinctive slave reaction as trying to avoid it will only make the beating worse. When none lands, she ventures to gaze from beneath her mane at him, seeing him in the chair. She starts to uncurl, reach out towards him. Looking at Azure and acknowledging her observations, hands twisting through symbols again. /I'm sorry, I... have been taking too much medication. I know how upset you are, must feel. There was nothing that could be done?/

Azure squeezes Leetah's arms, then rubs them lightly. "I know, Leetah. I know it's colouring your reactions, and I know it's hard to hear. But would you rather not have known? How else was he to answer you, then? It's as hard for him to tell you and risk your friendship as it is for you to hear." The gentleness of her tone denies the words their sting. She turns to Mikhail again. "Was there nothing that could be done, she asks."

Peter, for all that's happening, might as well be deaf. He's sopping up the tea and then carefully transferring the bits of shattered mug into the towel. He seems to find an odd measure of comfort in just picking the little bits of glass off the floor.

Mikhail takes a deep breath, which really doesn't help and looks up at Leetah and Azure. "I asked her if she thought she would get away with killing two innocent people and seriously harming others, and she said yes," he growls through the pain. "It matters not whether she was the one who had done it, whatever was in control of her did not care one whit whether anyone else lived or died."

Leetah nods. Stares. Stares at her hands. Up at Mikhail, eyes boring into him. A quiet sigh. Her head bobs again. She moves forward, mindful of Peter, and hugs Mikhail. She holds tight to him. Her first instinct to squeeze with a comforting tightness, but she scents blood with the disturbing taint of deep marror. Broken bones. He must have been the one with the chest wound that Azure healed. She lightly hugs instead.

Azure gently lets the cheetah slip from her grasp, settling back against the pillows of the smaller bed. She glances down at Peter, a certain comfortable warmth in her eyes as she watches him, and her fingers brush over the dark ring on her hand.

Peter stands up slowly with the shattered mug swaddled in the towel like a small broken animal. He gently hops up on the bad and starts to assemble it. Oddly, the pieces stick.

Mikhail looks up at her, surprised marking his features. He reaches up gently and clasps her arm. He doesn't understand but right now, he's glad she's not flinging more accusations at him. He buries his face into her shoulder and says nothing.

Leetah holds Mikhail, rubbing her hands against the back of her neck, quiet sobs escaping her as she holds on around his shoulders. She comforts him, she tries to anyhow, then slips back and gives his hand a squeeze before sitting on the bed. She reluctantly looks at Azure, then forms more signs, /I appologize Sister, for abusing your patience in such a way, using you as my intermediary device to speak. I am glad you're here. I wish... if I was there... the one I caused to die.. as he did identified me as his killer, to some entity. Jade has been acting strangely since she investigated my Speaker-Glove. The mists have been in it, and she said it was heavily protected. The small child who has recently arrived, said Jade did something to Sadie with an odd device. My friend here said two people, who else did Jade slay?/

Azure reaches out to Leetah, gently stroking her cheek with the backs of her fingers. "It's my pleasure, Sister. I don't mind translating for you at all. How could I?" she asks softly. "His Gifts are granted to be used, not to sit idle." She looks to Mikhail. "You said two people. She wishes to know who else Jade had slain."

Peter looks up, betraying the fact that he is paying attention. The mug is half assembled in his lap now, with not even a crack making it. Handy little fellow, isn't he?

"Elwing's child, Dracael," Mikhail says with out looking up. "And she would have likely slain me without Mistress Cecilia's swift intervention and Master Keloio without the intervention of the healers here."

Leetah listens and watches Mikhail's explanation, turning quickly to sign for Azure, then looking back at the gypsy. Her ears are a little down, her expression sad. She keeps sniffing and wiping at her eyes, and rubbing at her head in a way that indicates a strong headache. Her breaths are small and short. /I am so sorry my friend, for the pain that must have caused you. I know you would not have acted so if there was any other way. Did anything Jade say illuminate the problem? She was just killing everything?/

Azure watches Leetah's signs intently, then nods and turns to Mikhail. "She apologises, or.. no.. sympathises, for the pain this must've caused you, and knows that you wouldn't have done, had there been any other way. She wishes to know if there was anything further Jade said to indicate what the problem was, or if she had just begun killing everything." She glances to Peter, to his progress with the mug, and then her eyes drift to the shelves of bottles as though searching out one in particular.

Peter catches Azure's eye and takes a moment to adjusting his glasses. He looks up at the cabinet as well, trying to guess which one she might be looking at. His hands absently slip the handle of the mug into place.

Mikhail rises and looks at her. "With the child or with Mistress Cecilia?" he asks a bit more angrily than he intended. "Does it matter? She decided the child would become a threat in the future and anyone who tried to stop her was also a threat to be eliminated. She told me that Master Keloio and I were only injured becasue we got in her way and it was our fault for interfering. Master Keloio did nothing but grab the child and try to flee and she gunned him down like his life mattered nothing to her."

Leetah stands up also, bowing to Mikhail, brushing along his arm and trying to guide him back down to his seat. She rubs against the back of his neck, just petting. Keeping up the massage as one hand flips through her signs. /Please, I do not wish to stir your emotions, I just wish to know... find some clue that may make things sensible to me. Why she would do this, why attack our blind friend, thrice crippled, how did Jade see her as a danger? I will not ask further if this upsets you... I just.../

There's a knock at the door.

Mikhail pulls away, shaking his head. "Please don't touch me, mistress," he tries to say gently, but comes out as a strained growl instead, tainted by the pain and anger rushing through him.

Leetah looks over at Azure and shakes her head. Probably best not to translate her last.

Azure stands slowly, uncurling, and goes to her shelf, selecting two of the tiny bottles there. "She asks.." the elf begins, but at a look from Leetah, lets her voice trail off, instead pressing a vial into Mikhail's hand. "Two drops, for pain." She takes Leetah's hand and gives her the other. "And for you. I see you squinting under that withdrawal headache." Both tiny bottles have eyedroppers in the caps, for ease of doling out the prescribed two drops. The elf glances toward the door. "Are we expecting further company?"

Mikhail takes the vial, but looks between Leetah and Azure. "Tell me," he insists, starting to calm down a bit. "I want to know what she was asking." He ignores the knock at the door.

Leetah nods, sitting back on the bed, looking at Mikhail with a concerned expression. Her hands worrying the vial between her fingers.

Peter rolls the mended mug in his hands, discarding the towel and the last few stray fragments of ceramic with it. This is a hospital, they always have spare towels. "Busy night," he says, tracing his finger over cracks and chips, sealing them neatly.

Azure takes a single step toward the door, then another. It's a small room, and she crosses it quickly. "She seeks some way, some explanation, to help her understand Jade's behaviour. To understand how she would see a crippled girl as such a threat. She doesn't wish to upset you." The elf glances to Leetah to make sure she approves of the translation, and then to look pointedly at the still unopened bottle.

Another, louder knock.

Leetah nods, determining how to work the lid on her vial. Pouring out one drop and putting it on her tongue. Closing it, closing her eyes, waiting for some feeling that it's taking effect. It's nearly immediate, the tension across her scalp easing. Ears pointed directly at Mikhail.

Mikhail looks at Leetah and shakes his head. "I cannot give you those answers, mistress," he explains. "Mayhaps if I had them, this could have been avoided. But I do not. Forgive me." He looks down at the vial in his hand, but doesn't take it yet.

Leetah sits on the bed, her tail curled around her ankles. Her hands in her lap, slumped forward. Her eyes looking a little brighter, but overall she still seems very drained. Her fingers curl and twist as she expresses her thoughts. /I am not steel enough for this place. I do not wish to lose any more friends. He needs help, many things have been bothering him since our sharing, I have seen it in his actions. I fear he will hurt himself. I forgive him, I know how he must feel, I blame myself as well. If I had been there, could I have brought pause? I have been trained to take hits, would that have been enough to save someone? I would rather die to save a friend, than live wondering if my inaction caused them to be slain. I never escape it, no matter how I try, there remains the ones I cannot save./

Peter gets up from the bed and goes to the door, setting the repaired mug on a countertop. "Doctor Falling Water's office. Can we help you?"

Thanatos stands there, looking slightly impatient. He pulls his hands from his jacket pockets and smirks at Peter. "Uh, sure. I've got a few things for Leetah. I was told she might be in here?"

Mikhail looks over at Thanatos and nods to him. Then he opens the vial and places two drops of the liquid into his mouth. Closing it, he watches the rest of the room in silence.

Leetah looks over at her pile of things on the chair. All her stuff is here, what possible item is being brought to her? She looks curiously at the door.

Azure retrieves the two vials, replacing them on her shelf. She glances coolly at Thanatos, then nods to Leetah, returning to her side and squeezing her shoulder softly. "I understand, truly, as you well know," she answers quietly. "We'll speak on it more, soon."

Peter holds the door and steps back, looking a bit like a footman. "Sure. But visiting hours are almost up I think. Miss kitty needs to rest soon, and so does the doctor." He looks sternly at Azure for a moment.

Thanatos shrugs his shoulders, stepping into the room, one hand moving inside his jacket. "Sure, sure. Just some stuff from Jade. I think that Steward said that this has all the info she had on your glove thing," he says to Leetah. "And some bunch of other things that are supposed to help read it." The object he pulls out a series of wires and a crystal with a metal frame.

Mikhail rises. "In that case, I will go back to my room," he says quietly. He looks at Leetah, reaching out to squeeze her hand encouragingly. He bows respectfully to Azure, then nods to Peter and Thanatos as he walks towards the door.

Azure moves quietly to Peter's side, near enough to brush against him. She does look weary, quiet and distracted, with faint shadows of exhaustion ringing her pale eyes. "Do you have further need of me?" she asks Leetah quietly.

Leetah returns the squeeze. She rises and follows Mikhail, stopping in front of Thanatos and holding out her hands. She sniffs, taking them, and shakes her head at Azure. Clutching all the objects to her chest she frees one hand to sign an answer. /I will sleep soon, thank you my sister. I do not wish to steal your bed again, I am sure there is another room I could sleep in.../

Leetah's signing trails off, as she looks at the objects she holds. A sob forcing its way out against her will.

Peter gives the elf a gentle hug. "Yeah, we need to get you home. I think you might actually sleep more than me tonight." He watches Leetah's hands, the signs obviously mean nothing to him. He seems about to say something, then stops himself once Leetah begins to cry. He chews on his lip and starts to look torn.

Azure stills Leetah's gestures with her hands. "Stay here. Take the comfortable bed. There are too many dreams here for me. We.." she glances back at Peter, leaning on him a little, "we're going home. You know where to find me if you need me."

Mikhail immediately turns and grabs Leetah by her shoulders and embraces her saying nothing.

Thanatos grunts dusting his hands off after passing the objects on. "Well, if you're done with me," he grumbles before turning to pass through the still open door.

Leetah manages one more gesture, before she collapses against Mikhail. Holding Jade's parting gift in her hands. /Enduringly and Repeatedly, For Ever and Eternity./ It's too much. She nods, shakes her head, nods, buries her face against the gypsy and clutching the crystals and wires.

Peter nods to Thanatos in thanks. "Mmf. Well, if you need us. We're right nearby. Up the street, south from the square. The door's always open for you." He kisses Azure's shoulder and glances at the door.

Azure rubs Leetah's arm comfortingly, saying nothing but her eyes are soft. Then she turns and extends her hand to Peter, nodding. "Home?"

Azure and Peter take hands, then step out into the hallway.

Leetah rocks against Mikhail, body language saying all the things that can't be said. That she understands, that she forgives him, that she knows, but most of all that she misses her friends and didn't get to say goodbye. That all she has left to hold onto of Cecilia is a memory, and of Ujadet, some wires and crystal. Not enough of a memorial for either.

Mikhail holds her tightly, not saying anything either for a long while. Then he he presses his face into her mane and whispers. "Her last thoughts were of you, mistress. She bade me tell you what happened and to tell you good-bye." That is all the comfort he can offer though and falls silent again.

Leetah cries, and it won't stop, and she doesn't want to stop. She rocks, holding onto Mikhail, moaning, quiet gasps. It comes back again and again. Nothing she can do. It's done. It's over. They're gone. The phantom hands in the back of her head signing /it's all your fault/ and /you killed your friends/. Which maybe Mikhail sees, or hears a voice in it's place. But even if it lies and there was nothing she could do, she believes otherwise, and here in the mists, belief is everything. Belief can kill.

30: Relive the Nightmare

2005-03-25T21:45:42Z

People: Leetah, Orion, Azure
Location: Backalley Surgery, Healer's College
Played: December 01, 2004

[Surgery]
This could be an examining room, or it could be where surgery is performed, or a number of other things. A metal table is bolted to the floor, and something that looks like a dentist's chair sits a few yards away; both of them appear to have built-in restraints. Surgical and medical tools sit in cabinets and trays around the room, glinting coldly next to canisters of gas and bottles of oddly colored fluids. A sink that looks large enough to bathe in is attached to the back wall, with gloves, soap, and cleaning supplies placed around it The light in here is quite bright, and the temperature is several degrees colder than it probably should be, and the floor has a few stains that you're probably better off not asking about.

Orion opens the door to the lobby and taps the staff on the floor a few times before asking if anyone is around.

There is a crash of something metal from back in the surgery, but no response.

Orion, who is blind, backs up a little in the lobby and asks again.

Still no one calls out. It's very quiet back there.

Orion taps the staff on the floor as he turns and walks back out the door, hating being blind consciously for about the millionth time since it happened to him.

On the dentist's chair, a form stirs. Leetah sits up, rubbing her eyes and looking around. Her pillow is on the floor. She feels crummy, but mostly inside. Was somebody here earlier? She blinks, looking about. The place gives her the shivers, not just from the temperature. She immediately checks for unexpected bandages or pain. She's okay. She wobbily gets to her feet.

Leetah pads about on the cold floor of the backstreet surgery. /Star, I don't remember how I got here, thank you for letting my landing be safe. My Lord Turael, I missed your dreams last night, my sleep was so heavy./

Leetah uses the bathroom, coming back and adjusting her clothes. She picks up her mandolin and heads out.

[Healing Room B]
Though still a hospital room, it looks more comfortable than its neighbours along the hallway. There are the standard two beds, with a curtain which can be drawn between them for privacy, but the bed under the window at the far wall looks a little bigger than the other, and has been made up with a soft blue quilt. A small stand for a harp sits just past the foot of the bed, a simple chair beside it. A few other small personal touches mark this as more than just another infirmary room. Someone lives here, perhaps, even if they're not here right now.
Wooden cabinets along the wall hold medical supplies and spare linens. White shelves separating the banks of cabinets contain a varicoloured collection of small glass bottles. A lamp topped with a stained glass shade sits on the sturdy worktable below the shelves, providing gentle light. Beyond the cabinets, a solitary sink is against the wall in the left corner. The bed closer to the door is plainly made and looks ready to accept a patient; a rolling cart of instruments and a flexible long-necked lamp are standing by.

There is a scratch at the door, then it slips open and a fuzzy head peeks in. Leetah, apparently looking for someone, then following the harp music. Her eyes brighten up as she spots Azure. Glancing at the curtained bed she has a questionning expression, and looks hesitant to enter the room.

Azure looks up from a simmering pot on the worktable, smiling to see you. "Come on in," she says quietly, "and close the door." The pot is resting on a hotplate, and through the gap at the side of the curtain, you can see that there's a sleeping form in the more comfortable of the two beds. "It's Peter," she explains. "It's alright."

Leetah slips in and closes the door behind her. She pads quietly over, eyes dragged to the bed, lingering. When she looks back at Azure, she seems so helpless. She signs, /He is injured as well? I am.. it's... so numb. I'm sorry, will he be alright?/

Peter shifts a little. He's fully dressed (although minus his shoes) and looking to be dozing peacefully.

Azure tilts her head, studying the cheetah more carefully. She lowers the heat on the pot before turning back and giving the cat her full attention. "A minor burn, fully healed. He's fine, just keeping me company. But how are you? What's the matter?"

/I'm tired./ Her hands flip out the signs, and she slumps down to a seat beside Azure, letting her arms flop. She hangs her head, inhales strongly then lets it all out in a sigh. Her ears are half-mast, her whiskers dropping, her fur disordered and her clothes rumpled.

Azure steps around behind Leetah, strong yet delicate fingers rubbing feline shoulders and up to the base of her neck. "What's happened?" she asks, voice hushed, taking a step closer and peering forward over the seated Savanite's shoulder to watch for her signed response.

Leetah stares at her hands. Move. They don't. Her tail is limp and hangs to the ground. She lets herself be pushed forward, rocked by the massage. Finally her fingers move. /I have run the same course over and over so much that all feelings are trodden down. Numb. I... /

She stops the motions of her hands, holding that one sign for self. Staring at it. /I... Fire-Mane, have made a terrible mistake. It started in Turael's glade, I went with our dark sister to worship him there./

Azure's fingers trace down your arm as she steps away, to the vacant bed. She pats the mattress lightly. "Come and sleep, my sister. You can speak to me more freely in dream, and," she surveys you, "you need some peace and rest."

Leetah nods, standing up. She sets her mandolin on a chair, removes her robes and leggings and folds them beside it. She wears only a long shirt that goes down to her mid-thighs. The Cheetah pads over to the bed, lowering herself onto it and lying back. She looks up curiously at you.

Azure strokes your forehead comfortingly, as a parent would. "It's alright. I'll feel you the moment you're asleep. Find a comforting place, and I'll meet you there."

Leetah nods, closing her eyes, letting her thoughts drift. Deeper, and deeper relaxed. Finally she slips asleep.

It's like mist swirling around you, almost, as the haze of much-needed sleep resolves to the setting of the dream. As promised, Azure is beside you, looking around serenely. "Where are we?" she asks. You feel a shadow of a touch leave your forehead, as the elf steps away in the waking world, but in the dream she's still with you, near and real enough to touch.

A room, no windows. A bed with neat covers and books piled on top of it. Shelves with more books. A small door to a private bathroom, another one to the hall. Stone walls, carpeting. An electrical flourescent light overhead that flicks occasionally, warmer lights from lamps and candles. A hum. Leetah's mandolin, sitting in it's open case.

/It's Tahir's room./ Leetah's hands twitch and explain. /He's gone out for a playback session, I can't attend. I'm supposed to wait here./

Azure moves to perch at the edge of the bed, but pauses at that and remains standing with you instead. She glances toward a pile of books, curious to peek at some of the titles. She reaches out for your hands. "Relax, FireMane. We're inside your mind now. You needn't do anything but think toward me, if you wish. I'll understand."

The books have a variety of titles: Fluid Mechanics, Calculus, Biology, Mechanics of Solids. Temple Protocol. History of Chronotopia. Nagai, Effective Leadership, Getting to 'No' and 'Yes'. The Art of Looking Sideways. Science texts, hard and soft, leadership material, a little philosophy. Big books in handcrafted leather bindings.

Leetah nods, letting you take her hands, though she seems confused at your instructions. Gazing at you, a semi-transparent image of hands flashing appears in the space between. She thinks with the motions she makes for her hands, or she thinks in pictures. Words... she understands those but they don't seem a normal part of her thought. /I... don't want to think about some things./

Flash. You're out of the room. In the forest, in the dark. Something is burning over there. Flash, back in the room.

Azure finds clear space for two against one of the walls and leads you to sit with her, releasing your hands since you seem to have energy enough to sign here. After a moment's concentration, she thinks toward you in images rather than words, prompting you with the serenity of Turael's glade, since you'd mentioned that it all began there.

Doesn't want to. You're guiding her to the glade, but she doesn't want to. Two glades, the real one, and the one she's made. It's walled up in her mind. No... no... Turael's glade, it's on Fire!

"Shhh," the soft whisper comes against your fur, embracing you in its peace. The distinction between the two becomes clearer, and at the same time, both glades, and the events in your memory, become more distant. There's a level of emotional detachment suddenly, not a numbness or a denial, just a distance, safe and calming. This must be how Azure remains so serene most of the time. And then that gentle touch, prompting you to continue.

/If I go in there.../ Leetahs thoughts are very calm in perfectly controlled symbols. You're standing with her, in the forest staring at Turael's glade which seems consumed by fire, but not burning. /... I'll see a friend die again, and that will hurt me./

Azure steps deliberately into the clearing, the flames extinguishing as she nears them, though the waterfall on her back temporarily glows with the red heat of fire. She pauses inside the toadstool ring. "Then just tell me. You don't have to watch." Her eyes lower to her hands. "I know what it's like to be made to relive that moment. I wouldn't demand it of you or anyone."

Leetah's hair glows with reflected light from flames that have been extinguished. Fire-Mane indeed, she has the perfect colouration. She points at a figure dancing. It's Leetah, circling the ring of mushrooms, circling you. In the glade you see shadowy figures. Fire-Mane signs, /I wished to honour Turael. I felt his presence. I have had little training with magic and the first thing I learned was how to set things alight./

"So you made the fire," Azure prompts softly. Her dark hair is nearly black in the reflected red light. As she turns in place to follow the dream-you, the waterfall still shines warm colours instead of its usual palette of blues.

Fire-Mane walks through the trees, pointing out things which have the indistinctness of memory, of presence but not detail. /Several others arrived, who were not being reverent, who were disrupting my dance and even acting in threatening ways to me. I suddenly knew I could burn any who threatened me to a cinder./ Leetah, the one dancing, seems almost composed of flames as she circles the mushrooms.

Fire-Mane nods, /I made a fire to chase them out. A ring, a wall, moving from the mushrooms to the trees./ Leetah jumps in the circle. >FLAMES< Spread outward in a bright ring.

Azure clasps her hands tightly together, seeing now where this is headed. "It is for our lord to decide how to punish those who trespass against him, not for us." She cringes, flinching as the flames leap, then relaxes, facing you calmly once more. "Who was caught in your fire, Sister?"

/I know./ Fire-Mane looks at you, eyes glinting in the firelight. She takes a step, a tree interrupting the eye contact, but when she emerges on the other side they are still locked on you. /I was feeling powerful./ Another tree passes in front. /I wanted them to be afraid of me./ Another tree-trunk is interposed. /No one was./

The flames pale, their spectrum narrowing from all the warm colours to just yellow and gold. And then they fly apart, thousands of golden pinpoints dispersing into the still night. It seems darker than usual for a moment, the contrast strong in their wake. "What then?" the elf asks quietly, eyes following yours without judgement or fear.

/No one was caught in my flames. Insects, leaves, yes, but I slowed it so the intruders could escape. They had done nothing beyond disrupt the mood. It was after all, only a show,/ Fire-Mane stands, looking through the trees at you. The shadowy presences vacate the glade. She points at one of them, that crouches down in the trees out past the clearing. /But a very effective show. That one, my friend Amenthes.../

The firey Leetah inside the circle of mushrooms collapses in a silent wail of anguish, dispersing and winking out like the dispersed wall. Fire-Mane closes her eyes.

Azure's sensitive eyes easily pick out the silhouette in the darkness. She looks from it to you. Patiently. Wordlessly. There's a depth behind her own eyes, a memory, but not enough context to tell what it means to her. She's keeping carefully shielded, perhaps; this is, after all, your experience to be told, and she waits for you to tell it in your time, taking a pause if you need it.

There is a pause, it gets longer. The floating translucent signs that hang in the air in front of her hold, as she keeps her hands tightly squeezed together. Leetah opens her eyes. /Amenthes believed my fire would consume him, and believed it so strongly he died. He did not see that it stopped at the trees. He died thinking I intended to kill him./

/Baron Eifersucht, Lord Turael, were very comforting to me./ Leetah stares, her mane no longer has a glowing aura surrounding it. /Lord Turael explained it would come back, but I was still very sad./

Azure takes a step toward you, glancing off toward the shadowy figure, or at least its location a moment ago. "The mist has that power," she agrees, "of making belief into reality. That creature, your friend, used belief as its tool as well, and knew its strength. I understand your sadness, na-Chait. But it is not dead as you or I would be dead. It will be back, and it will understand."

Leetah seems incredibly fragile, as if all the emotions are still there, like some volatile chemical compound. Stable, but violently explosive if bumped. She blinks several times, her eyes watering. /I know that to be true now, but for several hours that night I thought I had killed a friend, solely in an act of ego. This left me very upset, so distraught a blind woman could see it. I met Cecilia as I left the clearing./

There is a blur, an impression of trees passing, the path through the forest, a rushing of vision and sensation until the clearing has vanished, to be replaced by the road through the Golden Countryside.

That peace washes over you again, providing enough stability, enough distance to think on it all clearly. The air is crisp, cleansing against your face. Azure is still with you, at your side, not judging or second guessing.

Impressions of Cecilia, Leetah are on the road. How she sees herself, others. Two more shadowy figures arrive. Indistinct, with few details, you still know who they are, such is the nature of dreams. /Mikhail and Ujadet arrived, they could see also. They wanted to know, what had upset me so? It is such a long distance to run for me, to communicate with people who cannot see my sign or understand it, when my talking device trips what I wish to wave. I could not that morning, get through to them./ She pauses again, looking at the figures. They all draw closer together around the one representing Leetah, and reach out with their hands.

Azure reaches out unconsciously with her hands as she watches, to lend you support and strength. "Were you able to make them understand?"

Leetah reaches out to take your hand, holding tightly. She shakes her head.

Azure squeezes your hand, watching the scene unfold before her. The figures seem closer now, a bit clearer in detail as she gives them her attention. "What, then? Did they fault you for his death?" she asks gently.

Dream-Cecilia reaches out, placing her hand on the distraut savanite's forehead. Mikhail and Ujadet follow. /No. Cecilia offered to open my mind so they could see. And they saw. They saw it all, as if they were I, reliving what I saw and did. This pulled memories from them, and I saw: as if I was Mikhail, the burning of his family; as Cecilia, a betrayal and murder; as Ujadet, a disaster in space that killed a friend. I felt what they did in those memories, and I know they felt what I was going through./

Azure covers your joined hands with her other, the rune shifting in the semi-darkness. "A powerful joining," she notes quietly. More, beneath the surface. You know it's there, but it's not showing through in her dream-representation the way you've seen memory wet her waking-self's eyes. All you sense is that she's listening, observing, and taking in. She's probably had a lot of practice with observing a lot of people's dreams, providing them what they need without detracting from their experiences. "Quite powerful indeed," she repeats even more softly, her voice just a hush. "Were there repercussions?" A gentle, reassuring squeeze of your hands.

[The difference is, Azure is still awake right now. She completely controls how she projects into dreams when she's awake. When she's asleep and dreaming with someone, she has less control.]

Leetah moves her hands inside yours, though it's her ghost-signs that 'speak'. /Yes. We were all grief stricken. Cecilia horribly burned, acquiring Jade's wounded arm. She took something from me, I know not what. She seems to sense things that I sense. I am not comfortable with this, but worse still her throat had changed to be like mine, unable to form the complex noises of voice. Cecilia became crippled in many ways, Mikhail blamed himself for breaking contact early. Ujadet is angry at me for what she learned. I feel it is all my fault, and have no idea how to fix it. The doctor here said Cecilia's condition was some sort of wilful change, I did not fully understand. But I know we are all wounded from it. Last night we argued. Mikhail drank heavily. I behaved shamefully, Ujadet was also seeking a place to hide./

~Dream-Cecilia reaches out, placing her hand on the distraught savanite's forehead.~ A pause. ~Dream-Cecilia reaches out.~ ~Dream-Cecilia reaches out.~ There's a point being made here by the repetition of that particular action, that piece of the scene. "You were not at fault, Fire-Mane. They could well have waited until you were calm enough to sign. They could've tried to communicate a hundred other ways. They didn't. They all joined in, and all of you learnt things you'd rather not have. They chose to participate in the joining; you are not to blame for their actions."

/I have been taking pills that are supposed to make me feel better. I now only feel numb, dead of sensation./ Leetah sighs again, holding long eye-contact with you. An image of a snaky chain of rectangular wooden blocks, and the first one falls and all the others after. /They are friends, concerned for me. I wanted only to perform for Lord Turael's pleasure, and chance encounters and bad decisions have brought me here, where my friends and I compete in our self-destructive behaviours. How can this be undone?/

Azure strokes the back of your hand, the path of her fingers unconsciously mimicking the current rune of her tattoo. "Cease taking the pills, my Sister. Human medicine is not for us. It's not even what's best for humans much of the time. Their remedies will only muddle your mind, not ease it." She glances toward the blocks, and one at a time, they right themselves, not forming the original chain, but forming a stronger, more beautiful pattern. "Nothing can ever be undone. It is what you make of it, and how you rebuild from it, that is the key. Build on your shared pain. Use it to bond the lot of you together, rather than drive you apart."

Leetah purrrs quietly, and you know in some way that the pills were why the cheetah came to the college, she nods. /I will stop using them. I will try with my friends, but I fear we will fight more. We are so hurt, and we know, yet cannot talk about it. I see how difficult it must be for others to understand me, as I do not grasp Cecilia's pantomimes. Mikhail avoids it. Ujadet... there are many things going on with her, but she offered to try another mind contact, and I believe that will make things worse. I'm not used to visitors inside my skull, my place is a mess./

Azure fidgets gently with the ring through her lip. "I will create a potion to help ease your mind. One drop will calm you, two will help you to sleep. Three will make you ill, so that you don't overuse it." She brushes fingers across your forehead. "And don't let anyone in here who doesn't know what they're doing. They've caused enough damage out there." The elf pauses, thinking. "If you wish me to facilitate, to create a dreamspace where they can meet you safely and communicate, then for you, I would. You need but ask. Your mind is too valuable, precious Muse, to trust to Ujadet's unreliable technology."

Leetah smiles at the touch on her forehead, purring louder. /I do not know how to keep them out, there are others that push their thoughts on me. Amenthes, the Raven. A dream... that might work... I am sure with time, we will get better, as the memories are shared, we understand. Cecilia worries me, her wounds will not heal, how will that be repaired? Ujadet is offering her even more technology solutions for her difficulties. Ujadet has also suggested I call upon divine favour and request a miracle; this seems presumptuous to me, but if I were to create a good enough show, perhaps attention to our difficulties would be granted./

Azure trails her hand through your mane. "We impress Turael by our actions, by our responses to life's trials, not with spectacular displays. He is proudest of us when we solve our difficulties in His name, without relying upon His aid. Fire-Mane," the elf says seriously, "Ujadet's technologies create more problems than they solve. And she does not know our Lord. She does not serve Him. She knows not how to seek His favour. I fear the danger you would be in, placing yourself in her clumsy hands. As for others pushing their thoughts upon you, this is something that can be worked on, a defence that can be strengthened in time. In the meantime, you must focus on knowing yourself so that you can recognise others' thoughts as foreign."

Leetah nods, seeming to slip deeper into sleep for a moment and almost out of the dream, but returns, /Yes... that sounds true.../ Though she can't explain her conflicting drives to do something, help a friend, and the disturbance blindness coupled with a horrible parody of her naturally mute state causes in her. Blindness, the loneliest, most crippling condition a savanite could acquire, cutting communication except from those who would touch. It's a nightmare. Leaving her sympathic and frightened at the same time. She wants to do something, more than just hoping her friends get better, afraid they won't and she'll need to take care of them. So much... so tired... she just wants to sleep and have it all go away.

Leetah lets go, with a gentle push from Azure, and drops out of the dream and deeper into sleep.

Intermission: Pictures

2005-03-22T04:52:16Z

They're unrelated to what's going on, pencil and small, but I have a couple to share.

A posing picture, primarily to show off my robes and speaker glove. I was asked to put a bit of attitude into it. I think I look a little like a superhero, although I'm not. I'd have the super power of being easily blown away. I like this one.

Similar to the previous picture, this one shows off roughly my proportions and not much else, despite the lack of clothes. It's a really small picture, so there wasn't much detail.

Much later on there's a battle with a robot and I'm handed a pistol. It belongs to Straylight, a chakat, and it's built for someone who has a chakat's mass. It wasn't pleasant to use, and this picture captures that.

19: Bathing Brat

2005-03-19T15:19:51Z

People: Leetah, Carla, Brat, Elwing, Ujadet, Nicolai, Swoop, Amenthes
Location: Caligo Docks, Western Aes Vicus, Fiddler's Green Upstairs
Played: November 20, 2005

[Docks]
In another life this could have been the shore of some primeval beach. Even the mist acts like water, rushing up to wash over you before drifting back out, tugging and pulling at your limbs, tempting you to enter the dark depths themselves. Above, the bottom of boats can be seen, floating crazily in mid air, bobbing gently on the waves of mist that wash over their bulk heads. A wooden pier juts out between the ships, wooden ladders dangling from it to make crawling up out of the undermist more possible than it might otherwise have been.

Carla sits in the mist, cradling a skateboard, just letting them wash over her again and again, grinning.

Furred feet, white pants, a tail appear. Followed by flame coloured hair. A cheetah-like feline moves off the docks, onto a ladder and climbs down, and down, till she's beneath the boats, looking up. Her gaze shifts over to Carla and she smiles, waving.

[Carla]
A thin, fairly lanky woman with a mohawk a few inches long tied back into a ponytail, dyed bright green. Carla 'Dogface' Budonski is always moving in little ways, touching various zippers and fasteners on her clothes or ripping small bits of paper to shreds. Carla seems to be around 19 phsyically.
Carla is wearing a red 'No Fear' t-shirt under a bright orange down vest. Her plaid flannel pants are loose enough to allow movement but certainly not baggy. Her low mountain climber sneakers show her bare ankles adored with various cloth and yarn ankle bracelets.
Her arms themselves are a mess of bracelets, from sterling silver to black rubber that go almost all the way to the matching tatoos on each forearm that read 'Dogface'. Her nails are cut to the quick and painted a bright yellow.
Carla thinks she is fashionable. The woman's tight brown eyes are always scanning, looking for some new stunt to try, a new entertainment to find or simply some trouble to get into.

Carla smiles and waves, waving the cheetah over, "Heyhi prettyfur." she says warmly, "Come sit, so Grade A Prime here, washing and ebbflow like oceanic, but no wet."

Leetah nods, pushing off and trying to swim. That seems to work, although she doesn't look very good at it. Struggling in a way that suggests she would surely drown, were the mists wet, she gets over to you and walks the last little bit to sit beside you. She nods several times, looking over the waves.

Carla grins a bit, watching you work your way over. She considers you for a while, thinking, "Speak at all? Meowmix even?" She ponders, scratching at her arm, along the tatoo there, "Understand at least, True."

Leetah brushes herself down, as if she thinks she should be wet and is trying to wipe water away. She shakes her head several times, drawing her thumb across her throat in a 'cut-audio' film-producing sort of way. She nods and taps her ears though, giving a thumbs up. Your tattoos already drew her interest, and it's renewed as she sees you scratch on them. She holds out her arms, showing off her 'ink', the natural blotches of black in her fur.

Carla reaches a hand out to rub along your fur softly and then holds her own arm out to you, "So.. no speak at all, but groove on Mama's words." She shrugs, "Mama doesn't know signage, True, but will work best can if you can cope with stumblebumble mistakes," she smiles as more Mist crashes down, "Not wet, even if it feels. Prime, huh?"

Leetah's fur is coarser and heavier than a housecat, but of course, she's also much much bigger. Its roughness is tempered a bit by her diligence in grooming, she keeps her fur clean and conditionned enough that it retains pliancy. Nodding, she smiles back at you, a very friendly one that keeps her teeth covered. Reaching to feel along your arm, her fingertips slide. A light touch, with a tickling halo of fur. She traces the 'dogface' design, intrigued by it, but looking confused. Words she gets, writing, maybe not.

Carla hmms, watching you trade, "Confused by whatsaid or words themselves?" She shifts, turning to face you better, "Or something else Mama doesn't get? Always was middlingfair at charades." she grins.

Leetah headbobs again, her firery mane bouncing around her face and ears. It's really impressive, with thick strands of hair that make it stand up in a way that ought to require a lot of gel. Seems natural for her though. She smiles, ears flicking as you mention charades. She recognizes that word for sure. She paws at your arm, at your ink, a light brush of fur and leathery fingerpads. She looks down at it again, then back up and tilts her head to the side. Her wide feline eyes search your face and focus on your mouth.

Carla pokes the tip of her tongue out beteen her lips and considers, "Mama didn't want tatoo on face?" she tries, hopefully and then shakes her head, "No, dumb. Uhm, got because was name, proud of."

Leetah tips her head the other way, and makes a gesture, touching at her collarbone and holding her hand out, palm up, then making a similar motion on you, holding her hand near your throat then slowly sweeping it back. Her ears twist and flick, both orienting back on you. She's got pretty big ears, bigger than a feline her size normally has. It makes her look a little juvenile, but mostly when she focuses them it screams: the cheetah is listening.

Carla thinks and starts to say something a few times and stops, "You can groove on spoken.... but only spoken?" she thinks, "No, can't speak but hear, Mama got that..." she frowns a bit, "Sorrysorry, bad at this."

The cheetah shakes her head at the last bit of what you say, interrupting the continuous nod that preceeded it. She pulls her hands back, which draws your attention to her clothes. Up close, they seem wrong. Roughly designed and roughly shaped, they're made out of a material that looks more kevlar X-sports gear than cotton. Also, she's got a black PVC glove that covers her entire left arm, and it in turn has silver bands stretch across it, like a curvy circuitboard. She's only been touching you with her right hand, which is bare. Reach up to her throat she squeezes a pendant that dangles from her collar.

The pendant clicks. It plays a tinny, low-fi recording that is high pitched. It sounds like a small boy. It narrates, "Leetah... Slave of the Astromancer."

Carla blinks and frowns, "Leetah, Prime, Mama is Carla. Tatoo says Dogface, Mama knows, was kickname for years, long storied, but how Mama was known, back in day."

Leetah gives a dual thumbs up for your name and grins. She's got teeth, sharp ones. She keeps watching you, eyes focused on your mouth. Stretching her neck out, moving her head a little closer, her nose twitches and nostrils spread as she inhales. Her whiskers are splayed towards you and she sniffs.

Carla laughs, "Mama is sorry! You wanted name!" she looks almost sheepish and offers you ahug, "Thank you for patience."

Leetah nods and slips into your embrace, her arms wrapping around your back. She's tall, but she's a real lightweight, and hugging her you can tell a lot of the bulk is mostly in her clothes. Fast and skinny probably, you know the type. Her hug is warm, friendly, and she's soft. She nuzzles the side of her head against your cheek.

Carla smiles and purrs a little, not catlike but humanlike and hugs you warmly, "Mama should get going," she says sadly, "Have to get supplies." She stands slowly and puts her board down, stepping onto it.

Brat skips through the undermist. Somehow, this icky place seemed more comfy for her. Her arms swing at her sides, and she giggles, kissing the dirtclod she carries.

Leetah stands, nodding and watches Carla step out onto her board. Her head tilts curiously, this isn't something she's seen before and wants to watch it. She waves.

Carla waves happily and pushes off, gaining speed quickly and putting her back foot on the board, resting it there. She leans a bit and avoids something on the ground as she vanishes.

Leetah watches as the surfer rides off, a little confused by the whole procedure but apparently intrigued. As she fades from sight, the cheetah's muzzle wrinkles. Something smells, reeks, like a burst waste-main. She looks around, trying to find the source.

Brat mutters happily to her dirtclod, and waggles it at herself, muttering in a higher pitched voice, as if the dirtclod is talking. She stops, suddenly, and looks right at Leetah.

Leetah's ears flicker, hearing the conversation, her head turning at the same instant Brat looks at her. The expression on her face vanishes quickly, but not before the smelly child sees it. It made the cheetah-like feline look very fierce, and now she has a neutral expression. Leetah blinks, watching Brat.

Brat blinks her big eyes back at Leetah, tilting her head to the side. She holds up her dirtclod, grinning. "You talk too?"

Leetah shakes her head, she makes a throat-cut gesture across her neck.

Brat blinkblinks. "I got a necklace once. Did you losted yours? Big clanky shiny man give Brat hers." She nods, solemnly, but stops advancing towards Leetah, now holding the dirtclod protectively behind her back.

Leetah shakes her head several times, then nods. Both her hands are in front, held together and relaxed across her stomach. Her nose twitches again, and she exhales with a quick chuff. She's breathing through her mouth now, not coming closer, not leaving. Very deliberately, she holds up her hands and spreads them, making a wing flapping motion. She follows this by smoothing her hands over her belly, but rounding far in front of it. Then she points at you, her eyes, you, her eyes. Her ears perk forward. She's listening intently.

Brat blinks... "What? Ucky wingy and kitten lady?" She blink, blinks, slowly, tilting her head to the side curiously.

Leetah nods several times, her whiskers splaying forward in curiosity. She taps beside her eyes several times, then points at you, turning the point into a shrug that leaves her hand palm up. She makes an open-close flapping with it, her hand in a beak-like shape.

The cheetah mimes throwing something with her gloved hand, as a sort of afterthought gesture.

Brat nods... "Brat and kitten lady talked. So did kitten lady and ucky wingie. Ucky wingie no like Brat. But Brat nice!" She stomps her little foot, angrily, and drops the dirtclod.

Leetah nods, listening, her eyes still watching you, ears still perked. She's paying attention and makes a rolling motion with her furred hand, tilting her head to the side and watching as you talk.

Brat scrambles after the dirtclod, which has split in two. "Dirtclod have baby?" She looks rather confused, picking up both pieces. She looks up at Leetah. "Brat thinks... They alright. Not fight no more. Brat hopes ucky wingie losted bad shiny. Brat will mush bad shiny next time." She nods solemnly again.

Leetah seems intently interested, especially at the last part. She rubs at the electrodes on her glove, they're silvery, shiny. She peers at you, reaching to tweak her ear with her fingers.

Brat sighs... "Wingy threw bad flashy shiny at kitten lady. Kitten lady gets mad. Holds bad shiny to big tummy, like this..." She drops the dirtclods, and holds her pointed fingertip to her belly, as if holding a pretend gun. "Then kitten lady throw down bad shiny. Brat want to mush... But not get chance. Fall... Asleep when wingie say want hug." She nods.

Leetah nods, mimicing your actions, looking... well it's hard to read her expressions but she isn't a happy cat right now. Her head keeps bobbing. She makes the rounded gesture over her belly, points at her mouth and opens and closes it several times. No words come out. She taps around her forehead, swirling circles with her fingertips. Her ears twitch again. She makes a round shape with her hands, taps her eyes, the rounded air, then toches the electrodes on her arm again.

Brat furrows her grimey eyebrows. "Did kitten lady talk? Marks on forehead?" She's rather confused. "Shineys on your arm?" This might be too much for her. She is obviously thinking as hard as she can, and quite stumped.

Leetah nods at your first two questions, shaking her head at the third. She stops gesturing, letting you take your time, and waits, her eyes never leaving you.

Brat's chin quivers. "Shineys on forehead? Marks? Dunno 'bout them. Brat wasn't there. Was getting help for kitten lady. Thought bad wingie gonna eat!"

Leetah nods slowly, holding her hands up and making the flapping bat-wings again, miming her mouth moving. She waits to see if that prompts anything.

Brat blinks... "What wingie say? Wingie an' Kitten lady was nice to each other, when Brat gets back, after finding much helps for them. Old man with horsie cart come." She nods, knowingly. "But he don' like Brat, either." She pouts a bit.

Leetah nods, making a sort of rolling motion with her hand that moves from left to right. She pokes at her belly, well at an imaginary larger belly. Her ears twitch again.

Brat blinks... "What about kitten in belly?" She doesn't quite understand. She thinks that's what Leetah is asking about.

Leetah seems a little confused, like that wasn't quite what she meant, but nods anyhow. She's willing to listen to whatever you have to say it seems.

Brat blinks, confusedly. "Or what did Kitten lady say?"

Leetah nods several times at that question.

Brat blinks... "Kitten lady... And wingie crazy, Brat thinks. Talk of killin' babies. And... Kitten lady seems alright with that..." She looks rather confused, but at the same time, sorrowfull.

Leetah's head keeps bobbing, and her expression is a similar unhappy, sad one, although she's still got that curious look. Silent, as always, she doesn't interrupt you and simply listens.

Brat sighs and plops down on the ground. This might take a while. "Wingie and kitten lady... Seem like friends, yes?" She looks confused. Why on earth friends would act like that to each other is beyond her.

Leetah nods, taking a few cautious steps closer towards you. Her nose twitches. She makes a sweeping gesture with her hand, that rolling continuous motion and seems to still be listening. The cheetah also holds out her left towards you, inviting you to stand and take it.

Brat blinks up at Leetah... And reaches out, taking her hand. "Don' eat Brat though. Brat not taste good." As if to emphasize, she licks the palm of her own hand, the opposite that she places in Leetah's, and makes a sour face. "They... Close? Wingy an' kitten lady. Might have been before, Brat doesn' know. But... Why they be mean, then nice to each other? If be mean to each other, why keep close to each other?" She looks rather confused, trying to sort things out inside her head.

Leetah's hand closes around yours. She doesn't seem interested in eating you at all. She's keeping her distance, holding her arm quite far out to the side. Perhaps that is for you, earlier you seemed frightened at her appearnce; perhaps it is for her though, the hand she offered you is the one with the thick black glove on it. Her head bobs in agreement, stopping often enough you know she's responding to things and not just continually doing it. She leads you along, taking you northwards.

Brat walks allong beside Leetah. "And, why so mean to each other? Why not just be nice. No killing babies, right, kitty with shineys?"

Leetah stops. She seems unsure how to answer that, what to answer. Her tailtip twitches in concentration. She lets go of your hand long enough to make a wing-flapping motion with her hands, then the wings curl around an imaginary handle that she stabs downwards with. Her head bobs in a slow nod. Pointing at herself, she shakes her head. She holds her hand out again for you to take, looking a little concerned you may run away. Afterall, she said yes to some sort of violent action.

Brat blinks, and tenses slightly, slows, but doesn't let go of Leetah's hand. "Wingie very bad, then. Wingie kill baby? Brat not let wingie touch kitten lady's kitten. No nope." She shakes her head, determinedly.

Leetah nods affirmatively to that, well, most of it. She seems a little unsure of how to clear things up, and doesn't try. Instead she leads you further through the mist canal, looking for a good place to go up.

Brat continues on with Leetah. "Where we go, shiny kitty?" She blinks, and glances about.

The cheetah makes a scrubbing motion with her hands, then points at Brat.

Brat nods... But her eyes open wide. "Not deep. Brat not float, 'member? Not float at all!" But she doesn't tug away from Leetah. "Bad lady tried to make Brat, last night. Bad lady hit Brat!" She smacks her own bumm, with her free hand, and squeals. "Eeee!"

Leetah nods, grinning at little at Brat's concerns, although not making fun of the serious sounding ones. She leads her along the street, heading towards the Fiddler's Green.

Brat continues shuffling allong with Leetah. "That bar smelly stuff doesn't make Brat float, neither. No nope. Doesn't. It not as magic as big shiney clanky man say. On'y time him was wrong. Except when him didn't hold Brat's hannie an' got losted..."

[Western Aes Vicus]

Leetah halts outside the Green, opening the door to take a quick peek inside. She sees something that sets her tail twitching. Her hand clenches tighter on yours and it looks like she's going to run more than walk.

[Fiddler's Green]
The pub's most prominent feature is the long bar dominating the left-hand wall, fronted by a row of burgundy cushioned stools. Its surface almost glows as the filtered light touches the dark lacquered cherry wood and gleaming brass fixtures. A door just past the end of the bar swings open occasionally to give a hint of mouthwatering smells and a peek at the bustle of activity beyond. You can hear snatches of conversation as the door swings open; the cooks most likely can, too. A bartender keeps an eye on you, waiting to take your order. A server moves efficiently in and out of the swinging door, tending to customers at the small tables that occupy most of the rest of the common room.
Across from the bar counter itself, to the right of the door as you enter, a platform area raised about a foot or so from the pub's floor sees use as a dance floor or a stage, with a dj's sound booth set against the wall beyond it. A jukebox sits beside the stage, for when the booth isn't in use. A bulletin board for messages hangs on the wall near the stage. At the back of the pub, stairs ascend to the upper floor, where rooms are available for rent. Two lavatory doors are tucked discreetly in behind the stairs. To the north, the door opens out to the street. A polished brass plaque hangs prominently on the wall, catching your eye as you exit.

Leetah opens the door, and brings in a smell. No, wait, she's brought in Brat, holding onto her small, dirty hand with her gloved one. She seems to be keeping her distance as well, and moving quickly. She half-leads, half-drags Brat towards the stairs and up them, managing to reach the upper hallway before the full force of the dwarf's smell arrives and can be... 'appreciated'. The cheetah's tail whips out of sight, and a doorslam is heard moments later.

[Fiddler's Green: A Small Room]
As advertised, it's a plain but functional room, complete with the lingering aroma of fresh paint. A simple bed, a desk and a chair await your use. There's another door that likely leads to a small private bath. A window, dressed with a plain white curtain, lets out onto a fire escape which drops to the alley below. The bed is surprisingly comfortable; perhaps you'll have pleasant dreams tonight.

Brat glances about the room, her eyes open wide. "Not sleep here, though? Just bath?" She looks at the bed, as if it might swallow her up.

Leetah opens the door, leading you in and straight for the bathroom. She nods, pointing at the bath. It's pretty deep, but you could easily stand in it without the water being over your head. She pats inside it, tugging on your hand and motionning for you to jump in. It's empty, of course, doesn't even have a drain plug in right now.

Brat blinks... "Wash tutu to?" And attempts to scramble inside the tub, landing on her head as she slides into it, down one of its walls. "Oooof." Her nose is bumped, and she rubs it vigorously. It starts to bleed, and she stops, eyes wide, looking at her hand. "Someone got Brat's nosie."

Leetah's eyes widen as you bump your nose and it starts bleeding. She nods, grabbing a small handtowel with her left hand, and dabbing at your face, soaking the blood up with it. She looks at your tutu, seems unwilling to touch it, but it'll probably get washed too, one way or another. She holds the towel out to you, pressing her other hand against her face and gesturing for you to hold the towel against yours in a similar way.

Brat nods, and does so. "Why cloth? Brat usually just use arm. Blood tastes like coins. Know that?" She speaks muffled, her nose being clamped by a clothed hand.

Leetah smiles approvingly, letting go of your hand. She doesn't answer. She steps back into the main room, placing her mandolin on the bed. She reaches along her left arm, pressing hidden catches in her glove and finally removing it and the the bracelet contraption she wears on top of it. Both are dropped on the bed beside her instrument. Looking back, she points at you, then then the floor by your feet. She repeats this several times, making a pushing away gesture as she backs for the door. She might be leaving! But then, all her stuff is here, she's probably going to come back for that. One final time, she points at you and the bathtub and makes the pressing gesture. She waits to see if you understand.

Brat blinks, already standing inside the tub, and looks down at her feet. "Swim? Brat swim like rock, shiny kitten!" She squeals, and almost looks like she's gonna cry, but stays put, patiently wating for Leetah, wondering what she's going to do.

Leetah holds her hand up, showing five fingers and slips out the door. She pops her head back in a second later, looking to see if you've moved and pointing once more at you, and your feet. She vanishes a second time. She moves quietly, so you can't really tell if she's left or still outside the door.

[Fiddler's Green]

Leetah flies down the stairs. She doesn't have the smell, uh Brat with her. She isn't wearing her glove or carrying her instrument either. Her muzzle is wrinkled in an unpleasant grimmace, and she seems very intent on something, ignoring the rest of the room. Cornering, she bursts into the kitchen.

Elwing ignores Jade, keeping focussed on Nicolai. Her nostrils flare, and she pants, quite obviously finding it extremely dificult not to spontaneously combust or something. Theres an almost... Hot scent in the air, slightly like brimstone, and her eyes glow brighter.

Ujadet's confused gaze follows Leetah and she flashes a quick hand sign at her, hoping it'll be visible. /Does esteemed friend require aid?/ Then she looks back to Swoop. "Only if it was lobotomy or being dropped on head as baby, taught by one who experienced that firsthand."

Swoop looks confused, still not retracting its hand, "'s mean an' nasty..yet funny somehow...I's confused."

Leetah emerges a few minutes later, wearing washing-up gloves that cover up to her elbows. She managed to find those somehow. She's also got an armful of towels and it looks like two or three bars of soap and a couple bottles. Hopefully those are detergent, and not something like vinegar or oil. They're not labelled, and it isn't her kitchen. She spares a quick glance at the room, if only to make sure she doesn't run into someone on fire, bleeding or about to explode. One hand flutters in a quick series of symbols as she mounts the stairs again. /Cleansing Putresent Reek, no assistance necessary./

Nicolai nods his head slightly, finding the rhythmn. His arrow is shoved back into the quiver, and he smiles, coming to stand nearby. He raises an empty hand, and speaks softly. "Hello."

Tail switches behind the cheetah, she's around the corner again.

[Fiddler's Green: A Small Room]

Leetah returns.

Brat plops down in the bathtub, not really knowing what to do. The last time she had a bath, the big shiny clanky man had just tossed her in some water... He saved her, of course, from floating like a rock.

The cheetah comes through the door with an armful of towels, soap bars and detergent. She's got rubber gloves on, that cover most of the way up both her arms. Her tail sweeps the door clean behind her and she returns to the bathroom. She smiles happily, really glad to see you're still standing in the bath. She looks like a very friendly kitty when she smiles that way. Setting the stuff down, she plugs the bath's drain and turns on the taps. One hand held under the stream, she mixes the temperature to something she likes. Warm, maybe a little hot, but it isn't scalding and is quickly tolerated.

Brat squirms, squealing a bit. "Water get Brat!" But she doesn't stand, only sort of... Butt shuffles to the back of the bath, away from the stream of water.

Leetah seems fascinated by the water, actually batting at it as it burbles out of the tap. She looks at you with a curious expression, as if she has no clue whatever could be wrong. She pats at the water's surface, splashing. She looks around the room for something... but doesn't find it. She goes back to patting the water encouragingly. She doesn't seem afraid of it.

The bath is filling up, water creeping towards the back. Closer. Closer. It's going to get Brat, the leading edge approaching her toes.

Brat is most definately afraid of it, and already, the water that swirls around her sitting figure is starting to tinge slightly green, as it rinses a layer of grime from her body. Her eyes are open wide, and she turns slightly. Her toes curl, and she pulls her stubby legs to her as close as she can.

Leetah smiles at you, petting along your shoulder with her hand, then rubbing the top of your back. She splashes the water with her left, away from you, and makes a motion for you to try the same, splash the water.

Brat kicks a foot, randomly, and causes a rather big splash, possibly getting Leetah. "Ooopsies. See. Brat not do right..." She pauses, digging into one of her wet pockets, and removes a dead rat from it. "Rat not get wet. Right?" The thing looks positively petrified, and she drops it outside the tub.

Leetah seemed ready for the splash, maybe she's bathed cubs before. With sudden speed and quite a bit of twisting, she slips out of the way. Shaking her head, she smiles and points at you and the water, then at herself and shakes her head. Your bath, not hers, she doesn't seem to want to be wet with this water. She adds something under the stream filling the tub, probably dish-washing detergent. It creates a layer of bubbles that covers the spreading greenish tinge beneath the surface. It combats the smell a little, if anything you're smelling worse now as the water breaks the grime-crust on you, and exposes long buried bacteria to the air. She coughs.

The cheetah picks up your rat and puts it safely out of the way on the sink.

Brat doesn't seem to mind the smell. "That like what Brat use on clanky man's shinies." She nods, crinkling her nose. "Not smell like though." She watches as you place the rat out of the way, and grins. "Rat floats. But rat cure for cough, not floatation... Device." She furrows her brows. Those were big words. She'd heard the big, clanky man use them once.

Leetah seems to be minding the smell, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. Her ears perk, she's listening still, nodding at the appropriate times. She holds her hand up high, suggesting something big, square. Then she arms herself with a bar of soap in each hand. Once more into the breech, she lunges forward, soaping and scrubbing you. Scouping sudsy water up to get you wet and starting a lather. She's working on your hair, your shoulders.

Brat squeals and squirms, but doesn't pull away, gritting her teeth and making a foul face as Leetah works. With a grimace, she whines. "Don' make Brat eat bar. Bar not taste good. Clanky man proove that." She sits as stark still as she can, being scrubbed.

Must. Defeat. Smell. Leetah scrubs! She's not rough, but she is efficient, getting everywhere. Your hair, your ears, behind them (oh gods!). She takes a lot of care on your face, to keep the soap out of your eyes, nose, and definately your mouth. Soap is for the outside. She starts washing your tutu, and you beneath it, even running her hands beneath it to get both sides of the cloth and your skin directly. The water in the tub is quite high, reaching the overfill drain and starting to bubble down that. This helps a little, the water changing-out a bit so you aren't wallowing solely in your own filth. The soap bubbles have gotten a strange dark tinge now.

Brat wonders at the soap bubbles, and lets herself be scrubbed. The green tint to her skin... That might be permanent, but at least the grime goes away, eventually. She runs stubby fingertips through her lathered hair, blinking at the soap when she pulls her hand away. "Bubbles all over Brat. Bubbles..." She arches an eyebrow. "Like Brat?" She's confused for a moment, her attention waning, and squirms slightly. "Kitten lady take baths too?" She wonders, idly, outloud. "Big clanky man did. But only twice." She holds up four lathered fingers.

Leetah gives you an up-up sort of pat against the underside of your arms, encouraging you to stand. She probably wants to scrub lower. She bobs her head at your questions, petting you on your head. She doesn't look like she's going to get in the bath though. Her head tips with a curious tilt as you mention the big clanky man again. Her ears flick and she looks at your mouth for a moment, in case more words come out. She moves her hands lower, rubbing soap bars over your sides and your belly, then touch-suggests for you to stand again.

Brat stands, slowly, so she doesn't fall, and nearly slips, catching herself on the sides of the tub. Her eyes open wide, and she nearly squeals, but instead whimpers. "Brat no swim."

Leetah steadies you, helping you stand, then slips to the head of the bathtub where you can easily see her. She points at herself, the bath, then mimes laying her head on a pillow formed by her hands. She doesn't actually touch the wet gloves, but the idea still comes across. Opening her eyes, the points at herself, the bath, then does the pillow thing again. A third time, eyes open, herself, bath, sleep. She holds up one, two, three, four fingers then waves her hand in a circle blurring all of them. If she's counting the baths she has had, she's gone beyond the numbers she can count.

Brat blinks... "You sleep after bath? Had lotsa baths? Soap, too?" She looks positively revolted for an instant, and then brightens. "Lotsa bubbles!" She scoops up a handful of grimey bubbles and giggles.

The cheetah grins as you pick up the bubbles. She seems to like them, but her favourite colour probably isn't grey. She comes back beside you and scrubs your lower body, your butt, your short stubby legs. Reaching down through the water, she washes with the soap bars. Your panties are thuroughly washed while you're wearing them with a clinical disinterest, and they're quite the challenge considering the number of times you've fallen back on your rear. She's gotten just about everywhere now, in fact the only place she hasn't scrubbed is the bottoms of your feet, the kitty obviously knows how to bathe someone.

Brat blinks, a bit blearily as she's scrubbed, but doesn't move, looking a bit scared to. As if she thinks she might slip, fall, and drown in the bubbly water. She focusses on some bubbles, eyeing them interestedly. "See Brat in bubbles sometimes. When bubbles big 'nuff." She nods, and lifts a foot up, helpfully opening the bottom of her foot up for Leetah.

Leetah nods in agreement with your observation, scrubbing your foot with one hand, helping you steady yourself with your other. Your feet are probably still going to look dirty on the bottom, the calloused texture and stain that comes from walking barefoot doesn't come off easily. Still, she does a good job, getting between your toes, and then waits for your other foot.

Brat thinks, and lowers her foot first, before lifting the other, clutching at the side of the tub. Had to have at least one foot on the floor, right? Toes wiggle, and she giggles slightly. "Bubbles an' soap sometimes tickle, shiny kitty." She nods.

Leetah head bobs enthusiastically. She hasn't mastered flying or hovering either. Your second foot is cleaned just as efficiently as the first. Even under your toenails. It's kind of a nice feeling, having your foot seen to. Complete, she guides your foot back down, then moves over to the drain-plug and opens it, the water starting to drain out. It'll take a little while for the full bath to empty. Leetah stands and gets the spray-showerhead on the snake neck. She turns it on, and a stream of water beams spray out of it. She is holding it so it fires down into the water, and waves her hand at it to draw your attention. So you see it and it won't be frightened.

Brat eyes it speculatively. "Rains inside?" She looks questioningly at Leetah. "How come? Thought clouds didn't follow inside..." She reaches a tentative hand out to the falling water...

Leetah holds the showerhead for you to see. The water spraying out of it is warm, the same temperture as the bath. It has a bit of force behind it, might sting. Well, it would if it went straight into your eyes. She lets you explore it.

Brat waggles her toes at the falling water, feeling the pressure. She frowns, easing her arm into it, and shakes her arm wildly under the streaming water. "That?"

Leetah smiles and nods, now that you seem comfortable with it she rinses you off. Carefully aiming it at your head to wash through your hair, down your shoulders, your back. The soap took the grime and dirt off, now the water stream takes the soap off. The water in the bath has drained down to your knees. You're... clean!

Brat blinks at herself, almost eyeing her own skin with distrust. "Brat not be that color for long time..."

Brat shakes like a wet dog.

Leetah pets approvingly, washing the last traces of soap away. The shaking got her. She grabs a towel and wipes herself with it, then throws it over her shoulder. Turning off the showerhead, the rest of the water drains away, leaving you standing in the tub with a small trail of suds leading away from your feet to a clump of them covering the drain. The cheetah takes the towel and wraps it around it. It smells like flowers. She starts rubbing you dry.

Brat toys with a corner of the towel, looking positively... Enamored with her new coloring. She sniffs. "Like flowers, shiny kitty." She nods, and stands on her tiptoes, as if she's trying to get a good look at something.

She keeps rubbing you dry. Leetah is very gentle with the towel. She can't get you completely dry, wet clothes will get at best, damp, but it's not bad. A little of the towel's scent rubs off as well. She can't see what you're looking at, and keeps working till you're dry. Finishing, she stands up, crouching and looking like she's going to lift you.

Brat lets herself be lifted, eyes darting around the room. She squeals, and reaches for her rat. "Gotta have that, just in case, shiny kitty. Don't want to get cough." She nods, still reaching for her rat.

Leetah sets you down. She sees you reaching for the petrified rat, and looks at it with a disapproving stare. Turning to face you, she's frowning. She shakes her head, then holds up her finger. She points at you, points at the ground, and does her hold-pat gesture with her hands. She hands you a towel, stands up and moves to the door. She looks back to see if you're following and makes her pushing-away gesture again.

Brat blinks... "But rat cure cough. Learned from Bupu. Smartest ever." She nods, fingertips quite literally itching to grab her rat. "Mine?" She questions almost pittifully, taking a step after Leetah, but keeping her eyes on her rat.

Leetah holds her hands up again, making her push-away gesture. She points at you, then at the floor near your feet. Next she points at herself, makes a circular motion while pointing at the door, then holds up five fingers. She shakes her head, and making the you-floor-pushaway gesture again, then slips out the door.

[Western Aes Vicus]
For a street dedicated to commerce, this one seems terribly underused. While large buildings crowd the sides of the canal, some of them dangerously close to crumbling into the mist, the street side vendors are few and far between. A few brave souls have set up on the various
bridges built across the creeping river of fog below, hawking their wares. One enterprising soul has even fashioned a barge out of what used to be the pavement that lined the street. How it floats in the middle of the mist is anyone's guess. To the south, a large tavern dominates the street. A sign swings over the door on a rusted and nearly snapped chain, causing it to send ear-piercing squeals into the street. The sign proclaims it to be the Fiddler's Green.

Leetah flies out of the Green, intent of something and runs along the edges of the buildings. She seems to be looking for something, searching around, looking behind things, under things.

Off near the canal, a gargoyle and her shadowy amour whisper intimately to each other.

The cheetah crouches, crawling in the shadows. Her ears perk and flick as her head bobs around. Grab! Her left hand darts out, into deep darkness and catches something. Turning, she clutches it with both hands and sprints back to the Green.

[Fiddler's Green: A Small Room]

Brat eyes her rat, then the door... Then Leetah curiously. "Where go?" A hand reaches for her rat, but she continues staring at Leetah, and ends up falling on her bumm, blinking blearily at slipping on her wet feet.

Leetah pushes the door open and comes back in. She's holding something in her hands, tying a string around it. She's caught a Rat! Put a harness around it that makes it easy to hold onto, at least until it chews it off. She's grabbed a piece of food off someone's plate from the main room also, and uses this to attract the rat's attention. She moves to stand between you and the petrified rat, and offers the live one she holds to you, along with it's food.

Brat blinks at the live rat, and shakes her head. "Can't break that one. Still squirms, see?" She points to the rat, and a stubby hand grips the live one around the middle. Her other hand takes up the dead one. "Plus, how is Brat supposed to keep squirming one still?"

Leetah doesn't seem to have an answer for that, but she hands you the piece of bread and cheese. It might keep the live rat occupied for a while. She bows to you, and takes up a towel, rubbing her self, then the gloves she wears, then stripping them off. It seems she's done with the bath.

Brat stuffs the dead rat into a pocket, still clutching the live one. She blinks at it, pushing the piece of cheese towards it's nose, then retreating it... Then pushing it again. "Rat eat cheese?" She questions the creature, patting it and setting it on her shoulder, gripping the leather tightly.

The rat seems eager for this cheese, alternating between squirming to get free, and squirming to get the cheese.

Leetah smiles, watching you play. She drops the towel and gloves and retrieves her gear from the bed. Hmm... looks like some people are still sleeping there. Oh well, they didn't wake up. She puts her speaking gear on, then picks up her mandolin and looks over to see how you're doing.

Brat marches proudly towards the door, giggling at Leetah. "Brat an' rat have drink now, right? Not have mean gypsie man push out door?" She reaches for the doorknob, struggling to get it open as she grunts.

Leetah nods, grinning and petting you on the head. With her furred hand. She helps you with the door, heading out of the room as well.

[Fiddler's Green]

Leetah follows down the stairs. She gives a bow to Brat, waves with a small smile then slips out the front door.

[Western Aes Vicus]

Leetah steps out of the Green. She smells a little like a bath. She's pulling on the strap of her mandolin, looking like she has several things on her mind.

Elwing giggles and playfully nips at Nicolai's tongue, missing on purpose. "Why dannae ye believe me? Eh? Paperweigh's dannae lie!" There's a playfull twinkle in her eye, as she lifts him, gently, kissing his lips softly, his feet barely off the ground.

Elwing has her arms wrapped about his waist, and wings wrapped about them gently.

The cheetah hasn't noticed Elwing and Nicolai, or if she has, is pretending not to and that she's part of the scenery. She starts off down the street, walking the edge of the canal.

A set of six lusterless eyes watches the goings on from a dark alley. They flick towards departing cheetah. A momentary glint in the dim light of the alley, an ersatz grin. Then attention returns to gargoyle and her partner.

17: Into the Night, part 1 - Coffee

2005-03-18T02:36:27Z

People: Taipan, Leetah, Delachiel
Location: Caligo Arx Streets, Spiro Spero
Played: Nov 17, 2004

[Western Aes Vicus]
For a street dedicated to commerce, this one seems terribly underused. While large buildings crowd the sides of the canal, some of them dangerously close to crumbling into the mist, the street side vendors are few and far between. A few brave souls have set up on the various bridges built across the creeping river of fog below, hawking their wares. One enterprising soul has even fashioned a barge out of what used to be the pavement that lined the street. How it floats in the middle of the mist is anyone's guess. To the south, a large tavern dominates the street. A sign swings over the door on a rusted and nearly snapped chain, causing it to send ear-piercing squeals into the street. The sign proclaims it to be the Fiddler's Green.

A cheetah-like feline with firey hair crawls up the edge of the canal and drags herself out of the undermist. Her hair and fur is damp from its clingy embrace. She shakes herself, stepping away from the edge, a thin tendril wafting to nothingness away from her tail. She looks around the square, exactly where she wanted to be, outside the green. Strange, she's never really looked at the sign before.

[Sign]
A now faded and somewhat murky oil painting depicts a bleak, reddish field of rocks leading down to a wide black river. Greenish sea serpents break the surface of the water in long, sinuous lines. A tall man stands in the foreground, he wears a dark cloak covering his back, a large, black raven standing on his shoulder has its head turned, holding what looks like a key in its beak. The perfect hand of the man holds a pair of golden scales, one side weighted down with perfect, tiny little bodies in various stages of decomposition. The other side balances this monstrosity -- with gold. Long, white hair flows down his back, half of it matted with thick blood.

Leetah makes the sign of the Star, gazing up at the sky from the Western Aes Vicus as she steps away from the canal. Her prayer is quick and brief. /Thank you Star, for leading Azure to me, and thank you my lord Turael for allowing her to understand me, and confide. Her stories were unsettling, but her lessons have helped me understand./

Taipan wriggles his way up the canal, his coils navigating the mists like they were water. "Jeez, a bloke goes fer walkies in tha mists an he comes back to a city thet be all torn up." He sidles up to one of the sidewalks, drawing length after length of coil out of the mist stream.

[Taipan]
Copper skin with the faintest tint of green to it marks this -- man? No, not quite a man. Perhaps from the waist up he could pass as human. He's lean and quick with bright yellow eyes, the pupils are slitted, like a cat's. His face is flat, with an unimpressive nose and narrow chin. He's devoid of facial hair beyond a set of sharp eyebrows, and a head full of dusty brown hair that hangs raggedly to his shoulders, his pointed ears barely poke through the mess. Dust seems to stick to him, or else his skin and hair is just at that perfect tone where he looks dirty no matter what and he's learned to live with it.
He might be touching six feet tall, except for the fact that he's at least twenty feet long, probably more. You see, where most people would have legs, this man has length upon length of serpent body. The scales are coppery gold, like desert sand at sunset. Darker across his back and then fading into a creamy gold underbelly. His scales rasp against whatever surface they find purchase on as he slithers along. Despite his bulk he moves like liquid, compacting, stretching, and coiling his length to fit whatever available surface he happens to have available.
He's dressed in a rusty coloured jacket, belted tightly at the waist to hide the point where his upper and lower half meet. A gray cotton shirt is buttoned up to his neck, and a battered gambler's hat barely clinging to his head. He glances at you and flashes you a smile and a wink. His canines are abnormally large and seem loose and springy. His tongue is forked, and appears to have a metal stud pierced through it.

Leetah startles a little at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, which translates into a tiny hop. Out front of the Green, she was staring upwards, at its sign or the sky, hard to say exactly, and waving her hands. She lands in a ready stance, facing the source, automatically starting to dismiss her action by feigning a casual posture. Except she freezes, truly surprised. Her hands flutter in front of her. /A Naga?/ Still shocked, she looks ready to run.

Taipan draws the last few feet of his tail out of the canal and glances up at the bar's shingle, adjusting his Hat back out of his eyes as he studies it. "Damn, it went all creepy 'n shit." He sniffs noisily, his golden eyes falling to study the girl. He sniffs again, then glances towards the bar. "Easy there lass, you be a mite too big of a bite fer me, an I don truck no trouble less someone asks fer it." His tone is bored, apparently he's used to nervous reactions. "I woz gunna go get me a nip and maybe a snug from Ceri, but I smells a lass whot got tha presence of week old spoiled milk in there."

The lass, a tall and thin digitigrade cheetah-like humanoid with firey red hair and simple kind of clothing waves her hands again, making several distinct finger gestures that she holds long enough that they're obviously meant to have some kind of significance. /You don't understand me?/ Finishing, clasping her hands in front, she waits, then finally nods and bows. Facing the Green's door, her muzzle wrinkles and she sniffs, but there is no sign she recognizes anything, or even catches the scent. Bowing again, she looks about with a puzzled sort of expression and just stands there, apparently having no place to go.

Taipan looks up and down the street. "Yer deaf?" He makes a point of twisting to face Leetah, the light from the Green's windows plays off the faint greenish sheen to his skin. "There be this gargoyle lady whot thought thet me bein polite ta an elven lass meant thet I had plans fer makin her me dinner. Ever since thet an a tantrum she had in tha old amphitheater I try an avoids her. Especially when she be around when I be tryin ta enjoy a good drink. Nothin sours a meal like a noisy hag." He coils the lower length of his body underneath him. "Um. Should. I. Talk. Slower?"

Leetah nods, then shakes her head, then really shakes her head so much that her hair flops around and covers her face as it whips from side to side. Flipping her mane back out of the way she taps at her ear, then makes a thumbs-up gesture. She follows this by pointing at her mouth, shaking her head and making a throat-cut sweep with her thumb a couple times. She stops to think for a moment, jutting out her lower jaw and biting her upper lip with her canines. Her head bobs up, she makes a drinky-drink gesture with her hand, and points off down the street. Her tail switches behind her.

Taipan's tongue flicks out, it's forked and has a metal stud in it right at the spot where the fork ends. He reaches up and slides his hat forwards again. "Kin hear, but no talkin. Eh, there be more fun things ta do then talk anywho." His eyes follow the indicated gesture. "What, you knows about a bar around here? I hear thet there be a new one nearby, but considerin someun got disembowled there I don know if'n I be quite thet thirsty yet."

Leetah blinks, her whiskers splaying in surprise. Her hands wave again in a wobbly sort of motion. She mimes holding a stick vertically in front of her mouth, and licking it, followed by a shivering sort of action. She stops, Nagas don't like cold, this one strange one probably doesn't either. She finishes by holding her hand out, palm up, kind of gesturing at you and around, adding a sweeping gesture that suggests you go first, to... nowhere.

Taipan blinks slowly, his expression a bit dry. He glances at the bar again, scowls and then looks around. "Almost makes me think yer talkin about an ice cream joint 'r somethin." He turns fluidly, his coils pushing and sliding along the pavement as easily as water flows over rocks. "Been ta tha Speiro? They don gots much I like cept hot tea an coffee, but I think I'd prefer coffee over tha company of tha local screamer. Tell ye what, if'n yer willin ta spare up a hug, I'll even treat ye."

Delachiel arrives from the east--she seems to be spending a lot of time in the woods as of late. Only partially hidden, she slows down, curious, as she sees Leetah and Taipan in a conversation. Leetah she likes, but Taipan she's not certain about, so she keeps a distance she deems safe.

Leetah's head bob, bob, bobs, looks like she's agreeing to everything. She hunches a shoulder, adjusting the set of her mandolin against her back, padding a few steps closer, tilting her head. She waves again, making an after-you sort of sweeping wave. Her ears keep twitching as well.

Taipan grins, flashing his sharp canines at the cheetah. "Yer like one of tha pelted. I met one once, they woz from Egypt, all tha old ones woz wearin Lapis an feathers an shit, while all tha pups had mohawks an face paint. Er... But they could talk. I'm guessin ye ain't one of tha pelted." He squints at Leetah's neck. "Tha necklace be a bit like what tha older ones would wear though." He glances over his shoulder to make sure the cheetah is following, and then make his way up the street.

[Spiro, Spero Coffee House]
The most immediately noticeable feature upon entering this shop is the large glass counter to the left of the single entrance. Within are all kinds of tobacco products and paraphernalia, from pipes to wrapping paper to raw clove. Just around the corner is the counter and the cash register. Behind that, a pair of employees bustle about between small refrigerators, espresso machines, cappuccino machines, and the soda fountain. A few stools are bolted down before the counter, but most of the seating in this place takes the form of recliners and couches that are distributed liberally throughout the large room. A line of support columns bisect the room, and upon them are posted signs that divide it into 'No Smoking' and 'Yes Smoking' sections.
Here and there around the room, tables have been set up with a variety of games. Always popular are chess, go, checkers, and jenga, though quite a few more can be checked out at the counter. At the back of the place is what passes for a stage. It's really just a foot-tall dais, illuminated brightly with rows of track lighting. On nights when there is no band and no poetry, someone's usually sitting on the floor back there sipping coffee or eating. Along all the walls are hung paintings by local artists, save for the wall to the far left--which has a long window cut in it to pass plates out from the small kitchen. Against the wall on the opposite side is a long table with a half dozen spidery headsets atop it. At any hour, there's usually at least one or two people playing some game or other on the neural interface.

Leetah steps in, trailing behind the Naga as he pushes through the door to the Spiro. She smiles, holding it long enough for him to slip his tail all the way in.

Taipan tugs his hat again. "Thankee lass. Most people don put tha tail inta mind when I be movin." He slides to a chair and wraps his lower coils around it. "Taipan Kreesh, of tha dusteater clan." He flicks his tongue out and squints at the menu.

Leetah nods, bowing again as you introduce yourself, then slipping into a seat on the opposite side of the table. She sets her mandolin in the corner, and rocks her hips, getting her tail underneath her. Chairbacks. She tilts her head, looking at you with a real curious expression and sweeps her fingertips over the table, taps at her tongue with them, then points at you? She makes an exaggerated swallowing motion as extra emphasis.

"What does I eat?" The naga grins and licks his tongue across his lower lip. "I don eat nothin bigger'n what I kin fit in my mouth. Usually I jus go on a pizza binge every week r so." He sniffs again and glances at the door. "Most people think they wanna know what I eats, then don like my answers." He mumbles something about tea to the waitress and taps on a few things on the menu.

Leetah shakes her head, and rather than launching into another flurry of waves, she takes the menu and looks over it. She's looking for pictures, and finding one beside a large bowl-mug of coffee, with whipped cream topping and chocolate sprinkles, points at it and shows it to you. Setting it down, she waits a moment then taps her fingertips all over her arm, takes both hands and squeezes her mane together above her head, and makes brushing motions across her face. She also taps at her necklace, dipping her muzzle forward with her ears twitching at the same time.

"An a sex bomb fer tha kitty," Taipan adds with a wink. His coils scrape against the chair as he settles into it. "Ye must be bored stiff of one sided conversations, lass. Anyways, I eats probably what ye thinks I does, unless ye thinks I eats friends o yers, then ta answer be no." He takes his hat off and wipes a hand through his dusty hair. "So I take it thet yer no pelted?"

Leetah's ears flicker at the name of her drink. She crosses her arms, leaning forward and resting them on the table, nodding as she does so. She hunches her shoulders, drawing small circles with one finger on the table. Her eyes watch Taipan's mouth, she doesn't seem particularily uncomfortable in his presence. She acts as if he's normal, in fact, the only real surprise that seems to have registered was for his tongue piercing. That, is something she doesn't see every day.

Taipan shifts his lips, pushing his fangs back a little. Apparently he thinks you're looking at something else. "Thet be one of tha most frustratin things about this town. There be all sorts o blokes from back home, but none of em seem ta be from my home. I met tons o fellows from America, but none of em ever met a thunderbird or one of tha crow people or tha other strange types they got there. There jus be tha pinks an thet be it." The waitress walks by, setting a pot of tea and a cup next to the naga and giving the cheetah her sugar ladened drink. "What aboutchee? Same story?"

Leetah nods as if she agrees, but makes a flipping over motion with her hand. She nods again, a similar experience for her perhaps. She takes up the mug and holds it close in front of her nose, sniffing at it. Curiosity brings her whiskers too close, and she ends up with a puff of whipped cream gracing them. Her tongue curls out, licking it away. When the waitress' back is turned, she points at her with another curious head tilt, then follows this with a quick look around. She doesn't seem to find what she's looking for and ends up pointing at a bottle of ketchup and wobbling her hand, then points back in the server's direction.

Taipan sniffs again and then wrinkles his noise. "Beh, too much perfume." He pours his too hot tea and drinks it slowly. The pupils of his eyes narrow to sharp slits. "Mmm. Eh? I'm guessin yer askin if I knows her, or knows what she be. Tha answer be no on most counts, although I hears thet tha people here be made of tha same stuff ye gots ta weave through ta get ta town. I hope not, 'cause then it might as well be full 'o ghosts 'r something." His tongue clinks against the cup as metal contacts china. "Tha locals smell a mite different though. S'how I kin tell."

Leetah nods again, blowing across her hot drink, finally taking a sip that requires another muzzle-lick to clean. It seems like she'll wear all the cream before eating it. Setting her mug down she rubs her hand alongside her neck, brushing up around the back of her ear, then holds it out for you to sniff. It's her, very concentrated, an introduction of sorts and she doesn't smell like anyone from around here.

Taipan wrinkles his nose again. "Lass, ye be a cat. No offense 'r nothin, but I kin smell a cat at fifty feet." He laughs and drains his glass in one gulp. You can practically see the liquid move down his throat. His skin turns slightly pink and his eyes slit even more. "Shoulda asked 'em ta jus bring tha can of whipped cream fer ye I think." He sniffs noisily. "And I kin see whatchee mean, although ye've been here long enough ta have tha mist taint. New, but not brand new, right?"

Leetah withdraws her hand and nods again, holding up fingers to count. Five, Ten, Fifteen, she gets a little unsure opening her hand to show twenty. Some where in there it would seem. She sniffs at herself a few times, nose wrinkled and mouth half open, trying to smell-taste that mist taint but apparently not having much luck. She starts pointing all around, then stops. She presses her hands together, then makes a violent wrenching apart of them. Holding them again side by side, she jerks them, and drops one lower. She points at herself, then holds a single finger up, folds her hands as if she's lying on a pillow, then puts them together again and makes the dropping motion.

Taipan refills his cup, watching you carefully. He frowns a little and shakes his head. "Somethin broke? Ye woz fixin somethin, an it broke?" He shakes his head. "Sorry lass, yer losin me." He squints in thought. "I been here a few months meself. Thankfully I gots enough money ta manage, an a tail in tha door at tha Green fer cheap room an nibblies. Ye met tha owner yet?"

Leetah nods her head, dipping her muzzle and taking another sip of her drink. She blows across the top of the mug, it's still very warm and the heat makes her cheeks flush, while the caffeine twitches her ears. Putting the mug down, she makes spectacle fingers around her eyes, and a scrubbing motion against the tabletop. She holds her hand up in a five-count again, checks her muzzle for hiding cream.

Leetah smiles, slowly sipping her coffee, continuing to hold up her side of the one-side conversation with the American Naga long into the night. Then, despite the caffeine she slips asleep, and dreams of Rephidim Nagas, telling her all about their trips across Sinai. It helps a little with her homesickness. Another day arrives, and she awakes to find herself alone. She takes up her mandolin and slips out. The bill has been paid, hopefully, and if not she'll probably be back.

10: Temple of the Dark One

2005-03-09T03:38:59Z

People: Leetah, August, Jejune
Location: Dark Temple
Played: November 08,2004

[Temple Grounds]
The mist hasn't vanished entirely, bits of it still creep over the rough ground, though it stays somewhat below the knees. There is no sun here. Nor, it would seem, any sky. It's black. From mist-filled horizon to mist-filled horizon, there's nothing but eternity about you. Breaking up the bleak scene is a gothic cathedral standing to your south, and a grave yard to the west.

Leetah stretches, waking up, sitting up out of the mist that lies over her like a blanket. She looks around with lidded eyes, why is it so dark? How long has she been sleeping. The gothic cathedral takes shape in front of her as her eyes clear. Ooh... what a place to wake up.

Leetah stares up at the black, featureless sky. Where are the stars. Where is The Star? Below the horizon, or hidden below the edge of the treetops. That's okay, her prayer will be heard. She forms the signs. /Thank you Star for guiding me through the night and all the sights and people I met yesterday. Thank you greatly for helping me wake up here, and please grant me your protection. It may be needed./

Leetah's second prayer comes a moment later, as if she started to do things, then remembered the neglect. /... and Thank you my Lord Turael, I hope the offerings and song I inspired yesterday were pleasing to you./

[Despite the coldness and oppression of the place she stands in, Leetah feels a surge of warmth within. Lord Turael did indeed find her work pleasing.]

Leetah is kneeling on the path, as if she's praying. Actually, she seems to be brushing off her legs and getting up. Just finished. She isn't wearing her Speaker-Glove, otherwise she looks fine and complete.

August steps slowly out of the mist with a face as if he was unsure of where the mists might take him this time. It isn't long until his mind is eased with a notion that a familiar face is near by. Not wanting to disturb her seemingly prayer, he waits to the distance until he is done. "Leetah?" he says softly, "Is there really gods here? In this world?"

Leetah startles a little, but turns around with a big smile as she recognizes a friendly voice. With a couple quick steps, she bounds over, slowing and opening her arms so he can see she's going to give him a hug (people can be real jumpy here!) then hugs. She purrs as she does, a hello. Stepping back, she nods. A strand of her mane catches on August's hair. She tugs it back, then taps the sides of her eyes several times. She holds up one finger. Next, she points at the temple and counts off a few more fingers, 3, 4. She gives a hesitant sort of wave.

August was a little taken back by the hug, but accepted it gratefully nonetheless. August tries to continue his smile, but the place seems so bleak and desolate it just sucks the happiness right out. Either way, he nods he says, "Four gods? Hmm....I expected a little more, but this land isn't as big as I thought it was either. It is like some archipelago."

Leetah looks pensive, in a lower-teeth bared, thoughtful sort of way, the nods. She grabs all around herself in space, pinching small areas, then makes a swirling motion with her hands between them. She scratches her fingertip with a lower canine tooth, then points at her self, taps her eyes and holds up a single finger again.

August was never good at charades, that was for sure. With a dumbfound look, he tries to figure out what Leetah is trying to convey to him. "Hmmm...errr..." August tries to make a quick save and says, "Ok, lets go on step out a time. The motion you made with your arms is wide, so do you mean 'everything'? Also, you pinched small parts, and does that mean "small things"? You also scratched your canine tooth, and I don't know what that means. What eles...Ahh! Your finger means one...so if I put that together...." August is now the one with the pensive look.

Leetah shakes her head and pets his arm, her hand slipping down to his wrist where she gently pulls. She indicates herself, the human, then waves around, and starts up the path. Somehow, she remains cheerful despite the bleak surroundings.

[Graveyard]
Small tombstones, most of them so old that they've lost even the hint of writing, stand in vaguely straight rows. Some are tilting at drunken angles, others are chipped or broken, some are missing entirely. The grass is dead, here, and few of the sprouts that have survived look at all healthy. The graves stretch for acres, line upon line of old stones, broken only by a large mound of dirt in the distance. If you happen to walk that direction, you'll see that the mound of dirt has come from a large hole dug there. One large, mass-grave. Some of the bodies whole, most of them missing pieces, all of them look flayed or burned or otherwise badly mutilated. Some of them are too small to be adult.

Leetah's enthusiasm drains right away as she enters the graveyard, and her pace slows. She stares, at the endless, endless rows of markers, and the huge mound beside an immense mass grave.

August wasn't sure to expect when Leetah tugged him a long, but a grave yard so vast wasn't on his menu. Jaw dropping pretty wide, he isn't sure what to say. In all his dreams, even this one, he never expected to find a place like this. Did the Mists have its negatives too? August whispers in disbelief, "So many...dear god...."

Leetah looks at a nearby gravestone, another. Whatever markings may once have been there, it seems time has taken them. All things are forgotten, eventually. She takes up her mandolin, and starts playing a very mournful lament. So very bleak. She wanders between the gravestones.

Walking among the old tombstones, August weaves silently through and for amongst the isles they create. If they hold no name on their graves, then how could they be remembered? Does anyone come here to pray at all for those that rest here? How dreary, to be buried where no happiness can exist. Lost in a daze, head torn between the melancholy sounds created by Leetah and the dismal scenery, August almost stumbles upon the mound of dirt. Stepping back a bit, he begins to notice where the mound of dirt came from, the giant hole which is littered with bodies. August gasps and looks down with horror, unable to usher a sound at the moment.

Leetah follows, trailing behind August. She looks down into the hole as well, seeing, almost not comprehending. Body parts, dried, flattened, looking like pieces of clothing more than pieces of a person. Everyone, tortured, a worse memorial than the faded headstones, lives not even worth covering up once extinguished. Left only for the birds and bugs. Leetah has stopped playing, hard to say when. She takes your hand, somberly tugging you away, out.

August doesn't budge, instead he gives Leetah solemn eyes, and whispers, "Wait, even they deserve a prayer. Would you pray with me? To ask that their souls might be able to rest, so they can journey to their next life in peace?" August would, if he could, give each one a proper burial. However, not even his power extends that far.

Leetah nods. She seems so still. She waits, ready to join him as he makes rememberances.

August holds Leetah's hand tightly as they stand over the hole full of the bodies of men, women, and children. Their heads kneeled down a notch, as to pay respects to those before them. After it seems like a eternity of silence, August, not having the knowledge on who to address, says almost a mere poignant whisper, "To those up there who may care to listen, please, grant peace to the sleepers before us. So they, like many others, can cross over to the next life without any regrets and placid dreams..."

Leetah kneels beside August, closing her eyes. She starts tracing graceful, noble signs. They are the reverant forms of her communication gestures. /Honourable One, who watches over the graves of the nameless and forgotten, I offer a prayer of rememberance for the ones here. I beg that their souls might be able to rest, that they journey to their next life in peace and find their place among the stars./

She finishes her prayer and stands up again.

[A soft, silibant whisper hangs heavy in the air: 'Songbird.']

"Well...I wish there was more we could do here..they deserve better...but." The bleak scenery, the mass graves, and the hole of rotting bodies tend to drain on a person's spirit. August turns to look away from the carnage, and just as he does, the soft whisper enters his ears. Looking around, his first thoughts was Leetah, but he knew better. "Did you?" August questions the cheetah.

Leetah shivers, she looks at August with wide and curious eyes. She's watching, for something. She shakes her head, slips the mandolin into her hands and starts to play the lament again, but she looks around nervously and seems very keen to quietly fade from here leaving just a song.

August closes his eyes and begins to think for a moment. A second later, he seems to throw something, that something being a single crystal flower. Not perfect, but it still manages to shine brightly in this void. Giving off all the colors of the rainbow, before it falls down in to the hole, it shatters and breaks off into million different pieces. As August turns to walk away, following Leetah, a rainbow pillar of light shines hopefully from with in the chasm. "Come on Leetah," he says cheerfully, "even the dead will die over that type of music. Play something cheerful for them."

Leetah strains, having to fight so hard to put something uplifting in her music, the ambiance has so claimed her. She does the first thing that comes to mind. She speeds it up, somber notes become spry. If anything, it sounds a little like a jig, or a small bird, flitting about, chirping, chirping. It wafts across the tombstones, lighting on them here and there, a spring song in a winter garden, and it lasts long after the cheetah and human have espectfully walked away.

[Temple Grounds]
The mist hasn't vanished entirely, bits of it still creep over the rough ground, though it stays somewhat below the knees. There is no sun here. Nor, it would seem, any sky. It's black. From mist-filled horizon to mist-filled horizon, there's nothing but eternity about you. Breaking up the bleak scene is a gothic cathedral standing to your south, and a grave yard to the west.

Leetah cheers up a little, once free of the graveyard. Strange, the colours seem muted here, August knows her mane is a bright firey red, but right now it's just... dull. She seems happy enough though, and plays an intrepid, adventurous tune while looking in the direction of the Gothic Cathedral. She tilts her head, looking at him.

"There was a graveyard," August smirks a little to Leetah as he says, "So there has to be a church to go along with it." Looking toward the south, he tries to examine the Gothic Cathedral in the distance. Unable too, he decides to just mosey on over. This time, he will be the one in the lead.

[Temple Steps]
The steps are littered with fallen leaves from the massive trees that surround it. Every footstep crunches though them and slogs through thick mist. The temple dominates the view, rising into the emptiness above. The stairs are cracked in places, and the great doors look swollen and possibly rotted, but they stand ajar, allowing entrance. The interior is tomb-black, so it's not an inviting sort of open. A small trail leads north.

Leetah follows along behind the human, cheekily providing theme music for him. Bold, adventurous, he's an explorer.

[Temple Sanctuary]
The temple sanctuary is almost pure black. It's difficult to make anything out past your nose unless you happen to see in the dark. It's not entirely black, however. Far at the end of the sanctuary, one lone candle burns, set on a plain wooden cabinet that's standing behind a large black alter. There are no pews in the room, leaving the room entirely open save for the candleabras set around the room, but left unlit. If you walk closer to the alter, you can see manacles attached to it, and small channels etched into the stone in a sunburst pattern, getting progressively deeper as the move towards the center, where a large, bowl-shaped hollow has been carved. The alter is stained, and it's not hard to guess what with. A small door to one side of the alter opens onto a set of stairs, and the massive doors at the entrance stand ajar.

Not sure rather to be spooked or in awe, August slowly walks into the giant Gothic Cathedral. However, he doesn't venture in far because of the lack of light. "This isn't the type of church I was expecting Leetah," August says almost in an sarcastic manner.

Leetah accompanies August. She's playing her mandolin, weaving an adventurous melody appropriate for an action hero in a film. Brave, investigating. She weaves in another text, one suitable for the Cathedral itself. Immense, dark, dangerous with somber swells and deep, vibrating base notes. She nods in response, and cranes her head about as she looks all around.

There is a small figure standing in front of the altar, hunched over with his hands hidden as though he were praying. The faint light from the candles shows him to be something that seems quite out of place in such a dark place. He's a jester, with a patchwork coat, a belled hat, and a well loved lute slung across his shoulder. Soft whispers tickle your ears as the man murmurs slowly, shifting his hands and adjusting something. His voice grows sharper and cracks a little, then settles back down to whispers once more. He doesn't show any reaction to the new arrivals just yet, instead simply lost in his prayers.

[Jejune]
In a world where giants walk and powerful knights and warriors stride through the streets, Jejune is a little on the small side. He's about five and a half feet tall, but manages to gain an extra inch or so with the help of boots, and a little more height thanks to his odd hat, which has several large tendrils tipped with small silver bells. Only appropriate for a man dressed as a jester. His clothing is off white, with patches of color sewn on here and there which gives him something of a vagabond's look. His coat is long and fine and would look almost like that of a wealthy noble were it not for the fact that the perfect white surface has been similarly patched, and the pockets bulge with random items, occasionally shedding a trinket or two that the Jester doesn't make any effort to retrieve.
His face is a little on the long side, although his features are concealed from the nose up by a mask made of some shiny white material. His eyes are concealed through half-moon slits and the nose on the mask is so long and pointed it couldn't possibly represent the real one hidden underneath. His neck and head are coated with a later of white theater paint which makes him look almost like he were trying to pass for a statue. On his left shoulder is a mask of blue with droopy downturned features, and on his right is a fiery grin and pointed horns on its temples, they rest there like gargoyles or really odd pauldrons.
There's an air of peace and happiness to the man, and an utter delight at the world around him. He seems half child sometimes, but a sad sort of wisdom seems to keep him tempered.

The cheetah-girl hesitates, and lets her music slowly fade. A nervous oversensitivity is making her hackles rise. Brushing against August's wrist, she points across the inner dark to the lone figure barely revealed by the flicker candle. She clasps her hands, showing them to August, and nods towards the altar.

Eyes starting to adjust to the darkness, August can finally make out the dark silhouette in the distance. This time whispering, more or less, to Leetah, "The man seems to be praying, we shouldn't disturb him." August just remembering his own prayers, he knows not to bother others during their times of trials. Standing near the door, August is still uncertain as to whether he should move deeper or not.

Bells ring softly as the man slowly turns to glance over his shoulder. In profile his face seems almost a caricature with a long overly pointed nose, until the candle light shines enough on his face to reveal that he's wearing a mask. "'Allo? Bonjour?" He starts doing something quickly with his hands, setting something down on the altar with with sound of scraping metal. "It is all right, misseurs. I will do you no harm. I am only here to pray to ma mere." His voice is a bit hoarse and weak.

Leetah nods to the whispers. She seems content to stand at the back and make her reverence there, her hands flashing through the ornate sign she uses./I humbly offer my reverance to the one whom this Cathedral is dedicated./

[Another soft, harsh whisper, in a voice Jejune would know anywhere: 'Sing, Songbird.']

As if he thought Jejune was a statue, he actually is taken a little back when he speaks. Relaxing a little, August walks forward a few steps and says to the jester, "We just prayed too, for the ones that lack a proper burial over by the grave yard." August moves to take another step, but is once again taken back. This time by that same familiar whisper. Looking around as if searching for someone, he queries, "That same whisper....it wasn't just the wind. Who's out there? Songbird? Why does it keep saying songbird?" Never really good at guessing games, August is almost clueless. "Maybe it is a reference to you, Leetah?" August says as he turns back to her.

Jejune looks up with wonder at the cathedral ceiling, then grasps his lute and starts to play. Blood trickles from his wrist as he touches the strings, but he doesn't affect his playing. "Everybody's living in the brave new earth / Prisoners of the small worlds that orbit in our skulls / Native sons of a no-man's land / Friends and lovers in the cold, cold ground. Every now and then I seem to dream these dreams / Where the mute ones speak and the deaf ones sing, Touching that miraculous circumstance / Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance." His voice is strange, obviously well trained with skilled fingers plucking the notes out of the lute. But there's a deep sorrow as well, a longing, and a deep deep reverence.

Leetah's ears flick and her pelt ripples with nervous twitches. Her hands find the strings, caress. Her melody starts, heavy, low, rumbling notes that one feels more than hears. It spreads out from her, across the space that holds no pews, echos from the walls shrouded in darkness. It evokes a feeling of inevitable progression, like the grinding of techtonic plates. She trails behind August, a lighter shade in the gloom.

Again, twisted with strange feelings, August wants be alarmed, but the music seems to calm him a little. August believes to see blood trickle down Jejune's wrist, but it is to dark and he is to far way for him to know for certain. Feeling a little lost between the music, August takes a step closer toward the light and questions listlessly, "Song? A song?"

Chirp! A little songbird, voice high pitched and bright. From Leetah's shadow, Chirp! Chirp!

Jejune's notes fade a little as he studies the newcomers, his expression hidden thanks to the mask covering the upper part of his face. "You.. You heard that too? Sometimes I think I hear the voice of mon fonce here... But.. But it must be my imagination, oui?" He bows to Leetah, a fellow musician, and plays a proper accompaniment to her, his song continues, "Everyone surrenders to the brave new scarecrows / And waits for them to hand us cigarettes and blindfolds / All lined up for the firing squad / Paper fills the cracks of the Wailing Wall. And I'm gone, gone, gone / Carried away by the midnight wind / And I long, long, long / For a world without end / The kind of thing that I've never seen / but in my dreams. Spend your life and live to tell / tarnished coins in the wishing well."

Leetah's music flows, changing to follow the lead of Jejune's song, and keeping the feeling of the inevitable, eternal, hope that tarnishes. Parts are catchy, almost upbeat, but mixing with Jejune's words, Jejune's playing, it seems to only emphasize that nothing lasts, the best efforts come to naught. Leetah chokes suddenly, a short sob upwelling with an unexpected thought. The songbird goes silent. A moment later, returns. Chirp-chirp!

"For a jester," August comments lethargically, "you do sing a sad song.." So much depression and hopelessness in the air. First a dreary graveyard, and now a hellish temple. What type of place is this. August looks back toward Leetah when she chokes, but once again relaxes when she resumes to play. Taking one more step to light, to the jester, he answers to him, "Yes, we heard it once in the graveyard and now again here. The voice said 'Songbird' in both occasions. Though, me and Leetah are unsure of what it means." Then asking almost hopefully, as if sure of himself that this mystery would be solved, "You seem to know?"

"Every now and then I seem to dream these dreams / Where the dead ones live and the hurt ones heal / Touching that miraculous circumstance / Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance," The jester continues his song, winding the melody down softly. His voice echoes perfectly in the temple, as though it were the perfect concert stage for him. "Every now and then I seem to dream those dreams / Where the orphans suckle and the slaves go free / Touching that miraculous circumstance / Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance." A small puddle has formed at his feet, and the end of one white sleeve is stained faintly. As his tune winds down he looks at August sadly. "I.. I am le songbird, misseur. It was mon fonce's pet name for me. Merci..."

Continuing to play, Leetah following August to join him at the altar, becoming visible in the small circle of light cast by the candle. Beams of silver gleam from reflected light off the strings of her mandolin as her fingers fly and she coaxes the heavy, pensive music from them. She adds the light singing of a bird to this, it's almost lost in the vastness of the cathedral. Her kitten call, she seems embarrassed to be voicing any noise at all, but works it into her song so well, finally winding it all down, ending as Jejune's playing does.

Leetah can see blood, smell it. Looking at Jejune she sees his wrist is badly cut, and the altar is covered in it. Nearby, there is a dagger.

"Oh..." August wasn't sure how to take that, but by the voice of Jejune he can tell it isn't something too cheerful. "I hope we didn't make you feel sad...I'm-" August cuts himself off as he stares at his wrists and the blood that drains from it all the way down to the floor. "Your wrists!" August says with wide eyes, "You'll bleed to death! You need help."

Leetah's nose wrinkles, her whiskers splaying forward. Eyes wide, she looks over the surface of the altar, at the small puddle forming at Jejune's feet, the stain on his sleeve and the darkness on his strings. She moves closer, reaching to touch gently on his shoulder, unrelenting in a questionning stare, nodding along with August's exclamations.

Leetah makes a wrapping motion with her other hand while glancing back at August. She holds her palm open.

Jejune lifts his hand in an almost lazy gesture. "No, misseur. I.. I do this all of the time. It is how ma mere taught me how to pray, oui? I will just go lie down in the room in the back and sleep and I will be better in the morning." His mouth, not covered by the mask, smiles faintly. "Please do not worry. I am much stronger than I look, oui. So what brings you to ma mere's temple?"

Leetah's hand flashes a quick sign for an answer. Then she realizes her mistake. Pointing at her eyes, she mimes looking around, up, down all over, and to finalize the explanation she brings her tail up and runs her hand over the tip.

August steps up closer to the cheetah and the jester. Almost chuckling from Leetah's attempt to mime something, he nods to her and says, "Thankfully, this time I think I understand, hold on a moment." August clasps his hands together and closes his eyes. A moment later he opens them and from with in is a crystal flower, a rose to be precise. Though, not perfectly made, when he brings it up toward the light of the single candle, the crystal seems to explode with a super nova of rainbow colored light that almost consumes the entire room. Giving the place a much cheerful attitude. Holding the stem of the flower in his left hand, he offers it to Leetah, "Did you need a light?" Glancing to Jejune from the side, he says, "Me and Leetah enjoy exploring the mists a lot, and today it seemed to have taken us here. I thought this place was a church..since it is near a graveyard..but it seems to be tomb..."

Jejune shakes his head, causing the bells to ring out. "The graveyard is old. Many temples are near graveyards." He gestures upwards, the light unfortunately makes the pool of blood on the altar and the floor that much more obvious, as well as the knife used for the job. "This is the temple of ma mere, also known as Sedna. Her temple in the city is gone, so I pray here so that this place will not fall and join it."

So bright! Leetah blinks in the multicoloured glare, pupils shrinking to dots. She takes the crystal stem and holds it off to her side enough that she isn't blinded. She is also looking at the knife, well staring at the bloody blade and the pool it lies in. Leetah gives a questionning glance towards Jejune, then back to the knife. Reaching towards it, she hesitates even before touching. Her eyes flick back again, her hand trembles. August has seen her be very reverant before, but it doesn't look like she is up to this sort of praying.

"What type of god asks you to do such a thing to yourself?" August questions the jester. Looking down at the blade, he tries not to stare but his eyes can't seem to leave it. Once he manages to break free, he asks, "That hole full of bodies should have been buried...why would someone want to treat the dead so disrespectfully?"

Jejune takes the knife and wipes it off on a handkerchief in his coat, then slips it away. He starts binding his wrist. "I do it willingly, misseur. Do not judge ma mere with such harshness when you do not understand Her. She did not ask me to pray like this, it is an honor for me to do so though. Would you be so brave?" He pulls out a bandage and starts binding his wrist. He does it well enough to hint that he's done this many times before. Glances at his other hand and a multitude of scars down it only makes this more obvious. "As for the dead ones, I cannot say. They were always there, ever since I first came here. There are many bodies in the mists. Perhaps they finally found their place here. Do not put the blame on ma mere for that."

Leetah nods, drawing her hand away from the knife and looking for a clean spot on the altar's edge to rest it. Watching Jejune and August, ears attentive, she lowers her muzzle above the red pool. Her whiskers are back, her nostrils flare and the fur around them stirs as she inhales sharply. Her mouth is partly open, letting her do the smell-taste felines are capable of. Jejune... She'll remember. Rising from this investigation, she mimes digging with one hand, then holds her palm open.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound disrespectful...I let my emotions get away from me. Your Sedna seems just be a little to unique for my comprehension." Letting his voice fade a little at the end, he sort of holds a look of disgust and pity when he sees the many scars on Jejune's other arm. Turning his head away in attempts to not be rude, August looks back to Leetah in hopes to find some refuge. Watching her mime something again, he nods, understanding the obvious, and says, "Coming right up...." August brings his left hand up opening his palm. A moment later out pops a shovel that lands gently in his hand. Bringing his arms down, he offers it to Leetah. "I think this is what you had in mind."

Jejune ties his wrist off and tsks at his stained sleeve. He blows on it, tapping it with a fingertips and the red seems to just fade out of the cloth. "It is expensive to replace a good coat," he says with a smirk. "But I should introduce myself, no? I am misseur Jejune, performer and professional fool, enchantez." He stiffens a bit. "You wish to bury all the dead ones? That is very noble of you... But I warn you that the mists will come and dig them up again. I have seen many people try to bury them and the same thing happens. Je regrette, madame." He reaches back and pets the altar sadly. "The gods here have very sharp ears. All except ma mere. But mon fonce is here, so I pray to her as well, oui?" He gestures to the door in the back. "There are beds there. I usually sleep after my prayers so I am strong in the morning. But.. Some do not find sleeping in tombs to be very comfortable." He shrugs.

Leetah's hand clasps firmly about the handle of the shovel and she takes it. She nods, her lips in a thin determined line. She rests the shovel against her leg, nodding at the warning and observation. She still has to try. She watches Jejune attentively, she saw the scars, the blood fading from the coat. A little confusion, but not surprise, she may be used to such things now. She glances at the back, her tailtip twitching, signing out her thoughts but making them no clearer. At his introduction, she bows her head slightly, then raises her hand to a wooden pendant that hangs from her collar. She squeezes it, and it clicks quietly.

The wooden pendant plays a rough, high pitched recording. It sounds like a young boy. It says, "Leeta... Slave of the Astromancer." There is a hint of an appology in the delivery of her title.

Jejune tilts his head and touches his throat with his bound wrist. Some red leaks through the bandage. "There is a certain freedom in having a master, madame Leeta. I do not pity you, and you seem strong and alive enough." He turns and touches the shackles on the altar as he walks around it. "I cannot promise you safety while you are here. Many of Sedna's children are creatures of darkness. The blood eyes and le loupe garou. But they seldom come here anymore. Still, you should be wary. If you tire and need food or drink, I have bread and wine and some stew below." The noise of his mask points around as he glances around the chamber. "My only request is that you cause no damage to this place. This is the last bit of mon fonce and ma mere that I have. It would kill me to lose the last shred of them."

Leetah nods, bowing again in response to Jejune, acknowledging his offer and his request. She lifts the shovel, tightening her hand on the grip and nosing in the direction of the cemetary. It will be a task, one best started immediately. She bows again, and walks across the long empty floor of the temple and out the doors.

August sighes hopelessly, "He might be right, Leetah." August says dimly. Why would the jester be lying? What gain would have from it? "We may bury the dead and put a crystal flower on every single grave, but if the mists come and take it away, it might be pointless. I can't bear to look at that happen, it already hurts to much know such...such laws exist in this world." When hears of beds, he is reminded of the switch and looks even more defeated. "Though...I just have to believe...if I lose faith now, then I can't do what I have to do to go on." August nods to Leetah and says with a determined voice, "Come on, Leetah! Even if it is just for one night, the dead will be med a proper bed." As he heads down the alter he forms another shovel for himself and turns back to say to Jejune, "After I am done with this chore, I'll probably come back here to rest a bit. Thanks for your hospatality." August begins to walk again and yells out to Jejune, "I'll never deride a holy place."

[Graveyard]
Small tombstones, most of them so old that they've lost even the hint of writing, stand in vaguely straight rows. Some are tilting at drunken angles, others are chipped or broken, some are missing entirely. The grass is dead, here, and few of the sprouts that have survived look at all healthy. The graves stretch for acres, line upon line of old stones, broken only by a large mound of dirt in the distance. If you happen to walk that direction, you'll see that the mound of dirt has come from a large hole dug there. One large, mass-grave. Some of the bodies whole, most of them missing pieces, all of them look flayed or burned or otherwise badly mutilated. Some of them are too small to be adult.

Leetah stands in the graveyard, looking at the exploded grave and the mass of mutilated bodies, a shovel gripped tightly in one hand. With the other, she flashes signs. /Guiding Star, My Lord Turael, any that watch over your lost and forgotten followers. I've seen too many deaths, too many nameless lives extinguished to just walk by. I am told the mists will undo my efforts, but I must hope. Accept these dead./ Then she takes the shovel in both hands and starts to dig, trying to bury the bodies and fill in the mass grave near Sedna's temple, working with August at her side.

August throws a crystal flower into the mass graves and gives a silent prayer for those beneath him before he too. He his hard task to help Leetah rebury them. Even though the mist will come to undo their work, he will keep on believing.

8: Seen in the Halls

2005-03-04T21:22:19Z

People: Keloio, Leetah
Location: Healer's College
Played: November 07, 2004

[Healing College -- Hallway]
The hallway in long, done up in that color that screams hospital, a pale green and white, smelling of odd astringents and easily cleaned. It lacks any sort of personality; even the paintings hung in an attempt to liven it up a little seem to have remarkably little to say. Doors leads off into private rooms every few meters or so, all the way to the
end of the hallway.

A cheetah-like feline with firey hair comes strolling down the corridor. She looks like she's exploring, carefully staying out of the way of staff.

Keloio is in one of the wards, just because noone knows just quite what to do with him. After all, he seems a fine, if big, rabbit in sitting upon the floor on his knees, legs sprawled out to either side!

[keloio]
Keloio, at the moment, happens to be a bit of a 'werecritter' at the moment. Somewhere over seven foot in height and going on eight, although a plausible eight inches of that is simply in ears, the emphasis would definately be on 'critter' as rather then the traditional lupine image his is a somewhat more lapine in nature 'curse' in being a hulking but otherwise decidingly unthreatening wererabbit. On that note, he's covered in fairly pristine fur of a bright white variety that leaves no room for markings or different bands of color, just going for a short and densely packed sort of pelt.
In this essentially anthropomorphic guise he stands digitigrade upon long, well formed legs; Meaning his weight rests more upon his toes then his heels and leaves half an impression of him walking about on tiptoe whilst putting an extra bounce into his every step. To this end his feet are larger too, plus only four long toes support his weight. This bounce and light-footed image only draws attention to the proverbial powder puff of his tail bobbing behind the surface of his rump. On the whole his body seems to be lean. Sure it might be muscled from everyday usage (Like lots of running away! Not surprisingly his legs are the most powerful looking part of him), but the fur and height really just give him an almost svelte, slender image that could actually be quite embarresing for him.
His actual face itself is fairly small and sharp for his overall size, a keen set of sharp red eyes taking up most of that room, whilst a small pink button nose takes up the area immediately before his muzzle bridge. A small joining line trailing between the bottom of such to the surface of his thin lips. His mouth filled with a large set of .. entirely blunt and unthreatening set of teeth. The literal crowning feature of his body is, of course, the 8 inch ears jutting out of his head, often drooping slightly. Covered inside with no fur so being a near pink, whilst around his head they gain tufts of softer fur for warmth.
Keloio seems to have also gone to some ends to cloth himself decently too, or at least protect his dignity. A sizable pair of shorts adorn his lower body to cover him up, though the white material tends to blur a little with his fur and might cause confusion at a distance; especially since he's carefully cut a hole in the back of them for his tail to spring out from.

Leetah looks at Keloio with a bit of surprise. She's not seen a rabbit quite so big before. Then again, she's not seen a lot of things she's been seeing in the last few days. She gives a small wave.

Keloio's ears raise up and he glances up to stare alertly, even tensing at the initial wave as he tries to figure out how to respond to it. No immediate reply comes from him though, just the sudden focusing of attention.

The cheetah-girl tilts her head to the side, her ears perking, listening attentively and staring curiously. She's dirty! Looks like she's been everywhere with little time to clean up. Her hair is disordered, looking wild. She holds a hand out, rocking it back and forth, pointing at you and gesturing to the greater part of the building.

Keloio's eyes widen at the waving hand, but his posture doesn't show one of fear. If anything his rapt attention seems kind of infantile as he even starts to push himself upright onto his feet, curling first one then the other beneath himself in raising up attentively.

In the mean time the doorway at the end of the corridor opens again, someone backing in whilst tugging a trolley without looking behind themselves.

Leetah dodges out of the way of the trolly and person, then ducks down the corridor. She keeps out of sight of the orderly and vanishes.

5: Chosen

2005-03-04T17:48:57Z

People: Leetah, Turael, Azure
Location: Mists, Moonlit Glade, Turael's Castle
Played: November 03, 2004

[Deep in the Mists]
You are in a bee hive... and they have television. The main body of the hive seems to be a large hall within a cave system. Every square centimeter of the rock walls, however, have been covered in WAX honeycombs. The feeling of intellect is thick in the air--you cannot shake the feeling that these bees are up to something. The mist is absent, except on your breath. With every exhalation from mouth or nostrils, a column of steamy mist is projected out into the clear air. The sounds of battle shatter the silence around you, dropping you firmly into the middle of a giant war though nothing can be seen of the men and horses screaming in your ears. Soft flowers spring up around your feet, smelling sweetly and swaying gently back and forth, growing perfectly, even in this lightness-void.

Leetah makes a quick prayer as she wanders, deep in the mists, searching. /Thank you Star, for guiding me through the night, and leading me to friends. Light an interesting path today./

Time passes, a lot of time passes.

[Moonlit Glade]
This is a small, circular clearing in the midst of a seemingly endless forest of giant trees. Perpetually shrouded in darkness, three small moons float in the heavens, casting a dim, silvery glow onto the ground. The grass here is stamped flat, indicated frequent use. There is a statue almost exactly in the center of the area; a beautiful, cloaked woman. The statue is carved in a style reminiscent of the Greek masters, and should, by all standards, be beautiful. Yet there is something subtly wrong about it...aside from the tears of blood that flow from its eyes, or the dark brown splatters across the stone cloak.

Leetah appears, the mists swirling about her, trailing as she steps out. She looks up, around the clearing and at the statue in the middle. Her eyes linger on the three moons overhead, which evoke a comforting memory.

Snoozing at the feet of the statue is a dog of some sort. Well, maybe a distant cousin of one of those jupani looking things you remember. It seems more animal, or perhaps someone's pet considering how decked out the thing is. A single gold eye cracks open and studies you. It's not entirely a comfortable feeling... Rather more like feeling as though someone is reading you like a book.

Leetah walks closer to the statue, her eyes focused on it's head as she examines the detail. She's almost right on top of the dog before she notices it, and she halts abruptly. Her mane fluffs and she feels the uneasy sensation of being examined. Perhaps there is more to the dog than meets the eye, the same could be said for the statue. She bows respectfully, and starts to back away.

The fox gets to his padded feet and stretches luxuriously, hopping from its perch and lithely bounding behind the cheetah girl. Fur as soft as the finest silk rubs against the back of her legs as it circles around her slowly, tickling and caressing. A bright pink tongue darts out and touches its nose. Bright eyes sly and wild. He looks into your gaze and shakes his head. The gesture has a commanding air to it. No. You stay.

Leetah relaxes, feeling the soft brush of fur, the press against the back of her calves. Her tail swishes out of the way as the fox passes behind her, she wouldn't want to thump it. She nods as his eyes lock with her own. She'll stay; she crouches down to run her hand along the fox's back.

Medallions clink as it sits in front of the cheetah. The air of the thing is haughty and regal enough to match some of the most snobbish poodles on Rephidim. He pulls away from the touch, making it clear that he's not a creature to be stroked and petted. Once it settles down it looks into your eyes, its own asking a question.

Leetah's hand halts, half reached out as she realizes her error, and slowly withdraws. She drops one knee then the other to the ground and rocks forward as if she's going to bow. She doesn't, that would break her gaze with the animal, as he is behaving too oddly in this secluded part of the mists. His eyes carry a question, one she doesn't understand, and the answer could be very, very important.

Leetah curls her hands together. /Please, if I've offended you or should not be here, I apologize, I did not know./

A slight, blue-haired elf pushes her way out of the wall of mist, padding through the trees on silent feet. The fox's white fur stands out in the darkness and she walks directly toward it, sparing a polite glance to Leetah before dropping to her knees before the fox and bowing her head deeply.

[Azure]
Azure is a slight woman, small and slender, with porcelain skin and delicate bone structure. Her lustrous indigo hair falls halfway down her back in a cascade of corkscrew curls. She looks about thirty, perhaps, and younger with her hair down, the severity of her high cheekbones softened. She carries herself with poise and serenity, moving with an inhuman grace. Her voice is soft and musical; you'd place her accent somewhere in the British Isles, though you wouldn't quite be able to pin it down any further, if pressed.
Her ears are gently but quite noticeably pointed, and each have a line of many closely-placed captive bead rings pierced through them, shining silver with bright blue beads all the way from lobe to point; only the ring at the very tip of her left ear shines with a contrasting glint of gold. A vertical ring with a translucent blue bead also adorns the centre of her lower lip.
There's a small tattoo on her left hand, just where the thumb meets the hand; some sort of rune-like symbol that occasionally seems to shift. On the same hand, she wears a ring of blackened metal with two tiny glittering lavender stones. Upon closer inspection, it's in the shape of a panther playfully trying to catch its tail, the gemstones perfectly set as the cat's eyes.
She wears a plain, long dress of dark, inky midnight blue fabric that looks nearly black. Though simple, it looks soft and comfortable, clinging to her delicate frame down to her hips; there, it flares out slightly to a full, ankle-length skirt. A simple silver chain belt rests at her hips, one end trailing long down the front to give the chain a V shape. A polished river stone on a silver chain rests at the hollow of her throat. She carries a square canvas bag which zips around the top, its strap slung over her shoulder.

The fox makes a barking chuckle, his head swaying and his eyes bright in amusement. He rises to his feet and pads over to the elf, leaning forward and breathing on her head. He seats himself again and looks back to the cheetah, locking eyes with her again.

Leetah can see handsigns in her head, the upper class regal ones. /Thou dost thank the gods for a good journey, and then thou dost act fearful when one dost come to see thee and thine amusement. Such a strange one, little pet./

The savanite's glance at the elf is a little more desperate, as she watches her out of the corner of her eye for cues on the proper things to do. Leetah slowly lowers her head, her firey mane starting to dip down and shield her eyes, then stops as he locks eyes with her again.

Leetah's hands move in graceful arcs as she signs. Each symbol is carefully formed, beautiful in it's own way. /I... Most beautiful and divine, I was not expecting an answer to my small gestures. I am a stranger, and a slave, beneath notice in my home. That you would see me, is a most generous gift, that you sign to me and meet me, I am overwhelmed. I feel unworthy./

Azure takes the time to study the cheetah with a longer glance now that she's paid her respect. She turns doting eyes from the fox and smiles. "Greetings," she calls serenely across the short expanse. "Just be respectful toward Him, and you'll likely be fine."

The fox trots back to the statue and hops on the base of it, giving himself a slightly higher vantage point than the cheetah and the elf. He glances at Azure and licks his nose again, bushy tail curling around his tiny little feet.

Leetah is trembling a little. There is the slightest bob of her head in acknowledgement to the Elf's advice, but she seems scared to the core, afraid even to make the gestures. Curiosity killed the cat, and while Leetah knew the mists were dangerous, she was not expected to wander into the presence of the divine, so unprepared.

Azure gets to her feet and approaches the cheetah, slowly and nonthreateningly. "Poor thing... got a bit more than you bargained for, did you?" she asks gently, her English accent soft and soothing. She looks back at the fox, smiling almost as if at some kind of private joke as the creature hops up onto the statue.

The fox reaches out with a paw and taps the edge of the statue. It's on the verge of being an insulting gesture, calling the elf over to him the way a master would summon a pet. The perfectly white tip of the fox's tail twitches in anticipation. His eyes never leave Leetah's, but his gaze takes on a certain mischievous cast to them.

Leetah sees more sign in her mind's eye. /Thou'rt no stranger to me, Fire-Mane. Didst not thine mother tell thee that thou wast marked with thine hair to keep thee brave? Little slave... The smallest and most quiet dost have the greatest dreams. I see them in thee./

Leetah looks up at Azure from where she kneels, her ears quivering. Her tail is tucked close, wrapped around her legs. She doesn't look away from the fox, her eyes are wide, locked on his, staring, but also distant as if she is seeing more than just what is before her.

Azure smiles happily to Leetah once more, then turns obediently and approaches the majestic animal at the base of the statue. There's no reluctance or willfulness to the elf whatsoever, just the serene pleasure of being permitted to approach. "My lord," she murmurs, drawing near and settling down in the grass once more; the fox's head now higher than hers.

Leetah's hands flutter, but manage to gracefully reply. /The Star did mark me, so I could not hide, so that trouble would find me and I would have to face it. I... I'm so... I'm so.../

Her hands start to shake again. Her last symbol repeating several times. Then the dam breaks and her hands flash, making gestures less fully formed, each one blurring into the next.

The fox dips his head and licks at the elf's cheek, then bright ivory teeth flash out and nip at her, hard enough to draw blood, leaving pinpricks on the perfect skin. He bites her again on the jaw, and once lightly on the neck. There's no blood on his muzzle as he lifts his head again, his head tilting quizzically to the side.

"So /what/ little slave? Lost? Confused? Fearful? Thou'rt far from home, and even farther from thine star. But thou wast raised amongst the savages. They simply put a pretty collar around thine neck and thought they couldst take the savage from thee, yes?"

Azure gasps, then the blood appears on her cheek. Another gasp as the fox bites her jaw, and another. She actually writhes a bit as his teeth graze her neck, closing her pale eyes and letting her head fall back to give the creature better access. They're not gasps of pain, oddly, but of pleasure, and the shudder that goes through her body is unmistakably the kind of shiver associated with welcome passion.

Leetah signs, /I'm so... I don't know where I am! I thought this to be Chronotopia, or Bosch, so much is familiar, so much similar to what I know, but it's not, it's different, I'm somewhere else. Yes! All those things. I don't know what's happened, how will I protect Tahir, how will I get back? I feel strange desires here, see changes, hear of how people change. What is to become of me and the ones I love?/.

Leetah remains kneeling, her hands signing all the doubts stored up in her. She can't look away as Azure submits to the fox. Her ears blush at the intimacy of what she observes.

The fox hops from the statue and moves behind the cheetah far faster than her gaze can follow. Instead of the brush of fir against her back though, she feels fingers touching her collar, sliding underneath them and pulling her to her feet. The human is tall, tall enough to make the slave girl feel dwarfed even a little. The eyes are the only similar thing. He holds a hand out to Azure and keeps his touch on the cheetah. "Thou'rt where all go when they art lost, little one. Thou'rt everywhere and nowhere at all. If thou dost wish to find thine way out, thou must know thyself, and what truly is around thee." He smiles, wrenching the girl's collar to the point of near choking. "I can help thee, if thou dost wish it. But some find my price too high. But only some." He smirks at Azure, favoring her with his eyes.

[Turael]
He's tall and flowing, like an otherworldly king or a whispered shape from your imagination. His skin is fair, his eyes are golden, and his long hair is as white as winter's breath. He is clothed in finery, with a green silk shirt embroidered in dizzying patterns of rainbow thread and several medallions dripping in gems hang across his neck and chest. Triangular pauldrons made of gold and blue lacquer rest on his shoulders, holding a cape of deepest blue across his back that flows like water with every movement. Long black gloves cover his arms, with silver rings on every other finger and bright silver bracers on his wrists. His belt is made of a multitude of tiny silver chains where gems of red and blue peek out as he moves. His breeches are the color of old drying blood, almost black but with hints of red when the light touches them properly. Fine boots made of softest leather cover each foot.

The elf rises gracefully to her feet, padding silently to the pair with her hand extended toward the god's glove. The blood on her face from the bites has beaded in thin, tiny lines, stark against her pale skin. "Some find thy price most fair, my lord," she answers softly.

Leetah is dragged to her feet, collar roughly pulling under her chin, preventing her from sinking, bowing or looking away. A small grunt escapes her as her collar is wrenched, and she staggers to keep her balance, but does not resist. She swallows, and nervously flicks clean her hands before signing a response. Her hands are shaky, either from fear or being mildly choked. /I know I am a slave my lord. Slave to the Captain Astromancer, who I have lost. I own only trinkets, can pay only with my talents and services. I beg and would wish your help, but must know what you would ask of me./

Turael twists the collar in his hand, sliding it along a circle as it rubs against the cheetah's neck. It feels warm, like a sun heated snake slowly coiling around the cheetah's neck. His other hand strokes against Azure's cheek, smearing the blood a little. "Dost thou think that I have use of trinkets? I have been offered the wealth of nations for the taste of sweet dreams, and laughed. And sometimes I accept broken toys in exchange for mountains of treasure." He nudges Azure closer to the cheetah, blowing his breath across her deep blue hair. "What thou dost have that I desire cometh from within thee. Thou canst play music, yes? Thou canst dance? I have been too long without a muse, little slave. I wish to see the people inspired once more."

Azure reaches out to Leetah, stroking her fingertips down the cheetah's cheek. Her eyes are pale, deep lavender, and they watch the slave girl's hands in a way that suggests they now understand the motions. "What is it you wish of Him?" she whispers, drawing her face nearer to Leetah's, as if for a kiss.

Leetah shivers, even though the collar is very warm about her neck. Her hands flutter again in quick response. /Yes my lord, I have some skill with my mandolin, I can move gracefully. I was a pretty prize passed from master to master, as you know; their tastes were varied and I had to acquire a great repertoire. I can inspire people, I can put music to match their moods./

Leetah gasps quietly at Azure touches her cheek, in tense surprise. Her hands tentatively waving. /Someone that can understand me?/ She looks hopeful.

Leetah's head leans towards, her whiskers splaying forward to brush against the elf's cheeks. They tickle, so many, so light. Her lips a breath's distance from Azure's.

"I wish not for some petty entertainer. I wish for one to inspire people." The god keep his hand on each of the women, but moves just enough to keep them close. The three bodies intimately close now. "I wish to be entertained by one who is capable. I see a spark of this within thee. If thou wilt impress me enough with thine skill, I shalt grant thee mine help. My Dreamer, Aiaes, shalt guide thee closer to me whenever thou dost need her."

Azure noses playfully at Leetah's cheek before pulling back just far enough to rest her head lovingly against Turael's chest. "My lord does have a taste for music," she answers, again with a hint of some deeper knowledge and... amusement?... behind the words.

FireMane inhales, her mouth parted in a tiny gap as she smells and tastes the scents. Azure, so close, so sensual. Turael, a heady overwhelming scent the speaks of his divine nature. Confidence shows in her signs, in skill, not bravado. /I can play. I know how to fan sparks into flames./ She rests a hand on her mandolin strap as if to suggest, now? Bringing her mandolin within the embrace would make it a very intimate one indeed.

Turael reaches out and touches the mandolin with delicate gloved fingers. His rings tap gently against the wood of it. His gaze flicks between the two women as he takes a step back. "Very well, play for us, little slave. And my dreamer shalt sing. Let us see what dreams the two of you dost bring forth, yes?"

Azure studies the instrument, then looks between her master and his new toy, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She reaches out to the god's gloved hand, kissing it softly. "As you wish, my lord." She turns to the cheetah girl again. "Please begin your song, and I shall follow." The elf hesitates a moment, then adds, "My singing may make you somewhat sleepy - a gift from my lord, to ease mortals into dreams."

Leetah nods, reaching out to take the god's hand and bow her head to it. She takes a step back with a dip and a swirl that slides her instrument to her front and into her hands, ears flickering in acknowledgement of Azure's warning. She caresses the wood, stretching her hands on its curves before setting fingers to strings. Her first brush is a strong chord, followed by two smaller quieter ones that rock back and forth half an octave higher. She follows it with individual notes, climbing her fingers like spiders up the neck of the mandolin. It's like a splash of cold water followed by rain.

Turael steps back, leaning against the crying statue and watching with those intense golden eyes of his. He's utterly motionless, and yet those eyes seem to creep and move, the gaze seeking out and pulling every quiet little desire, every desperate dream, every regret. Two heartbeats start to hammer in time, the cheetah's and the elf's. Both of them feel dimly aware of the presence in one another's minds.

Leetah gasps, feeling her heart race, and Azure can sense the oddly comforting heavy sensation gets from her tail as she moves and it jerks behind. Her splash and shower of notes is followed by a slower melody, one which is not surprisingly, rather like the mists she's been wandering. Her music flows, with surges and starts that suggest sweeping gestures with sudden punctuation.

Azure stands comfortably, facing the cheetah, then begins to move, circling around to the other woman's back. She waits through a couple of cycles of the chord progression, getting a sense of the alien music, and then begins to vocalize along, picking out a pure, clean melody line through the complex pluckings like a trickling stream wending its way through a rainstorm. As she begins to become aware of Leetah's mind mingling with hers, she's better able to predict where the music will go next, and as she needs to concentrate less on the chord progressions, she begins to add words, elven words, ancient and powerful sounding even though meanings might be unclear.

Thump thump, thump thump. The beat providing a rhythm for the music. The elf's singing does make one feel drowsy, but at the same time it seems to make playing all the more easier. As though nothing else existed except for that song. As though Leetah could build whatever dream she wished if she could just play the song just right. The dusty air of the slave hold in an airship wafts past her nose, followed by the memory of a starlit sky from the deck of a great spaceship, a small child in robes signing to her, asking how many stars are out there. /Only one,/ is the reply, she's a priestess garbed in robes, with only her eyes visible. Anticipation tickles her stomach, tomorrow is the day, the day of joining... The... The sound of shattering glass echoes through her ears. Master Nartak is angry. The spice market is crashing, food is expensive. Is she willing to pick through the broken glass in the wastebin for scraps to fill her aching belly?

Leetah listens mentally to the words as they form in Azure's mind, before they're expressed. They have a music of their own, a meter to their pronunciation that would be aided by a slight adjustment in time. Sensing this underlying poetry, even though she doesn't understand their meanings, she's able to massage her music to better support Azure's words. She loses herself in the music, finds herself in a dream. Like notes the images come, backwards and forwards, pieces of crystal. She falters... some of those memories cut. A sharpness against a claw, a string plucked wrong, blood on her mandolin string. She wrenches herself back, trying to hold the melody.

Azure slides up behind Leetah, resting her small hands on the cheetah's hips to steady her; to steady you both. At the touch, the link between your minds strengthens, and while you might not understand the meaning of the individual words, you understand the gist of the improvised song. Something about love and loss, betrayal and sacrifice, filtered through your own experience. She breathes in the images you create; the stale air of the ship, the sharp mingling of spices, and they filter through her experience of lush green forests, crisp clear water and the sharp sparkle of handfuls of tiny polished gems. And the song continues, melody, harmony, counterpoint, a perfect weaving set to the twinned beating of your hearts.

Thump thump. Pressure on the cheetah's head as a cold metal helmet is lowered, obscuring her vision, the click of a lever, a flash of light, and an intense starburst of pain in her temple. It melts away into sweet bliss. She can feet teeth biting at the back of her neck, hard enough to draw blood.. And yet it's welcome pain, hot and sweet and begging. Rolling in a field of red poppies. Dancing in the ruins of the destroyed city of her family. Holding a mutilated woman in her arms that looks utterly strange and alien, and yet she knows is her dead wife. Thump thump, thump thump. The memories swirl and pour across the pair guided by the currents of their mind, or simply channeling through wildly.

Leetah yelps in quiet pain, her eyes open but not seeing, her balance suddenly relying on the brace of Azure's hands. She clutches her dead wife, her mandolin, hands still finding the strings as she feels herself turning in a slow waltz in the ruins, denying death even while holding the evidence. Play. Her hands move automatically, signs on the strings bringing out odd combinations as she tries to hold and is swirled round by thoughts.

Azure's hands tighten, though not painfully so. She gasps with that pleasure again as the pain courses through the pair, and this time Leetah can feel the sensuous euphoria of it tingling through her every nerve and vein as well. With it comes an understanding of how the fox's surprising bite affected the elf, the feelings it provoked, the craving for the kindness of more, sweeter pain. The two modulate together to a new key, the song changing and quickening. Spring rain becomes violent thunderstorm, wind whipping at hair and fur, forcing the feeling of isolation even to two so closely linked. The double beat of blood through veins spurs the song forward, the storm higher, its energy a defiance of death and celebration of life and sensation.

Thump thump. You're on four feet chasing after a deer, killing it with your sharp jaws. Tending to a strange man in a hospital bed that won't wake up. Feeling a despair in the pit of your stomach... The Astromancer is dead, Tahir is dead... He... No. He switched places... he lives... He... PAIN... The slavemaster's whip. Drugged in the hold of a ship. Watching mother and father and five sisters scattered. Finding comfort with a new master and other slaves who kept her going, finding an odd peace and solace in the life of a servant. Thump thump.

Leetah feels herself being carried, looking across a dark feathered chest at another savanite who refuses to meet her gaze. One she doesn't want to look at either, burying her face and tears against the arm that holds her, missing the other that looks up. In her hands, death again, in the form of a coat made from a pelt similar to her own, made from a slave. Always ones she can't save, can't remember.

Always ones she can't save... a green-haired woman bloodied and broken on the floor, cradled in her arms; a human, advanced in age, reaching out from his deathbed with a kind and patient smile; a cruel twisted soul with a magical arrow through his heart, damning you with his dying breath, and the midnight flight from the supposed utopia of home that followed; the wracking, twisting pain of sweet life's blood between your feline jaws, and a burlap sack with a spreading stain delivered to you by the hand of death itself. The song beats frantically, Azure's hands digging hard enough at your hips that you feel her dizziness and her blackness at the edge of your vision. Always the ones you can't save.

Leetah's music jangles, slipping discordant as it leads her into memories she's tried to put away. It's easy as a servant, when options are removed to let thought go with it. To lose oneself in the orders and the duties. The drugs... in the ship it was a sluggish blur of days, but even when they wore off the new life was much the same. Repetition, routine, the only change the master's moods. Remembering everything being lost, trying to pull it back together, having it slip through her fingers. A master, cruel and controlling, but efficient in the web of corruption he spread through all the noble houses. So many secrets wanted desperately after his death, that people would kill their own mothers for, never mind the slave that stumbled upon them.

Thump thump. The tempo grows with your frenzied heartbeats, pain and pleasure and emotion building up to the point that you both feel as though you might burst. You couldn't stop now even if you wanted to as the images seem to gush and hemorrhage. You're wallowing in what feels like a fountain of power, sweet lightning and mist pouring through you more powerful and intimate that any lovemaking could be. You're looking down into a sack with a mutilated corpse of what was once a beautiful little girl. You're attending the funeral for Third-Vision, priest queen of the Savanite empire... May she find peace with her husband who died with her when the Naga leveled the city and killed all who were there. Thump thump. Arms fold across you, holding you, pulling on you. Vaguely you become aware of the fact that you are no longer standing on solid ground. You're floating, falling, floating... Thump thump.

There is a wrenching sensation...

[Inside the Castle]
Get everything you ever wished for, every desire, everything you've ever owned and bundle it up in a tight ball... Then blow it up in the middle of a large stone chamber. That might give you an example of what you see before you. Toys, garbage, and treasures are scattered everywhere with very little care or difference between them. Tapestries hang haphazardly over chairs and
furniture, and strange creatures move about in the shadows. The air is filled with sounds... music, singing, breaking, laughing, screaming, everything and nothing. In the center of this catastrophe sits a recessed crater, with a throne made of old gray stone in the middle of it all. Objects have been piled so high in the cavity that they rise up to try and greet the throne, and to get to it one would have to wade through the debris. Nothing stays still here, and silence is the one luxury that does not exist.

Leetah cries. Choking in heaving gasps, her fingers drawing along her mandolin's strings, making it wail for her. Dead. Dead. All dead. All the trying and fighting and they're gone. Out of sight, in accidents, from a moment's hesitation. They leave.

Azure's fingers strain to unclench, hands sliding slowly around to the front of Leetah's hips even as she presses herself against the cheetah's back, rubbing her cheek against sleek fur, clinging to this alien being utterly merged with hers. Her voice remains pure and clear, dropping out of words at times but still continuing unwaveringly. The sweetness of her tone is at odds with the ferocity of her song, but that discrepancy makes perfect sense now that the darkness within the serene, delicate elf is laid bare. All the dead in her wake, as well.

The ground seems to rush up to greet the couple, jolting them as the song crests hammering them and spending most of their strength. As the mandolin and elf sing, reality creeps in little by little. They're somewhere else. Except that man.. That god... Is now seated on the throne, watching them with his chin resting on his cupped palm. His face is impassive, but intrigued. The heartbeat hammering in your ears, leaving a faint ringing note in the air that drowns out all other sounds except for that music.

Leetah holds so desperately to that music, sinking back against Azure, needing the support that comes from her touch, pressing so close. She doesn't want to remember, some things she can't remember... buried so deep. Her music follows now, more than leads, her sadness so overwhelming. Her hands, trying to play, trying to explain in sign, threatening to make a mess of both. /It never... lasted... no matter how hard... no matter how much I tried... it wouldn't stay.../ Her music races as she fills the notes in between the ones struck by her signs. She can't breathe, can see the treasures surrounding her, blurred by tears. Can see the god seated in front of her, unobscured.

Azure sinks to the stone floor, guiding the larger woman down with her, pulling her back against her chest and rocking gently. Her hands stroke Leetah's upper arms as gently as a parent's or a lover's hands would, adding strength without getting in the way. Her voice drops to a sad, soft hush, barely more than a whisper against the cheetah's sensitive ear. And still the visions come, pain and sadness, the promise of loss of everything you try desperately to hold, and the song modulates yet again, to a whimsical child's melody, a sweet and melancholy tune about la loupe. Azure's voice does falter for a moment as she realizes what she's singing, but never drops the thread of the song even as hot tears begin to spill unnoticed from her eyes.

Turael finally rises from his throne, he stands slowly, as though perhaps it has been the first time he's stood in a thousand million years. His feet make no noise as he walks towards the pair, his gaze is still felt somehow, through it all. Slowly his hands reach out and touch you both, drawing you up. Whispering promises of sweet dreams, good dreams. His fingers touch the slave collar, and it seems to heat up against her neck again, the warmth spreads down the both of you like a comforting bath.

Leetah slides into it, her hands finding Azure, twisting to hug her, hands balling up tight in her clothes to hold on; mandolin and music slipping away as she accepts the warmth, from the embrace of the elf she now knows so well and the collar it seems she's always known. An end, one note more and her heart would break, the strings would break. She wills herself towards the dreams.

Azure draws the trembling cat upward, bringing her up with the elf into the god's embrace. She buries her face against him, yet another beloved presence she expects to lose far too soon, seeking to make the most of his warmth while she can. /Please,/ she mouths into his chest, too weak to force breath into the word.

Turael curls an arm protectively around the elf, and then lifts the cheetah's chin to whisper in her ear. "Thou hast done well, my muse," he murmurs. "Now sleep, and when thou dost awaken thou shalt begin thy service unto me." Both of them are simply held in his arms, large enough it seems to fit them both and perhaps a few others. His breath, like the breeze of spring across a field of wildflowers, washes over the both of you.

fire_mane @ 2005-02-25T10:13:00

2005-02-25T15:15:20Z

People: Jacob, Verger, Kankura, Aliron, Sadie, Gwendolyn, Leetah, rat-girl
Location: Caligo Arx, the streets.
Played: October 31st, 2004

Unfortunately, the first moments of my arrival at Caligo Arx are lost. I recall suddenly appearing, in my fighting robes and wearing the speaker glove. I shook like a dog, trying to throw off the clinging mist. I had no idea where I was, couldn't remember what had just happened, but the differences weren't great enough to cause suspicion. Sadie, resembled a khatta, and Aliron and Gwendolyn seemed human enough. None of them knew handsign. I tried to use the Speaker-Glove, but it was acting strangely, and I had to resort to charades. I successfully introduced myself, and conveyed that I could not speak. They were friendly and offered to show me a place to sleep. We walked through the city, and came upon an unusual scene. At this point the records pick up.

[Ampitheatre]
A massive round bowl cut into the earth dominates the middle of the city, the only view of the streets seen from inside provided by the stairs that cut out sections of wall in all cardinal directions. The lip of the bowl, rising perhaps ten feet from the level of the road, is decorated with four tall statues depicting past heroes and colorful murals. The interior of the theater is cut marble, shaped into four seating areas separated by the stairs leading up and out. The center is wide and flat, the ground inlaid in colored tiles depicting a sun breaking through clouds.
To the north, Via Delubrum can be seen, lined with temples and government buildings. To the south, residences--some of them obviously trying to compete with the temples for sheer size--line either side of the Via Atrium. The west, Via Sapientia, and the east, Aes Vicus, lead towards the edges of town in more sedate ways, terminated at either end by the ever-present mist.

Verger is sitting beneath one of the more hideous looking statues along the edge of the bowl reading a thick dusty looking book. HE looks supremely bored and frustrated.

"whatcha raeding?" a younger girls voice speaks out, sounding similar to Kankuro, spoken from behind the statue that Verger rests at

Verger goes rigid. The wings on his back flare out and vibrate softly like rustling paper in A slowly, slowly growing sense of unnamed wrongness starts to permeate the mistling and his unseen companion's minds, at a low level; a lost, and unfamiliar feeling; they might have passed that statue a hundred times, but suddenly it seems oddly out of place, the roads less reliable. Passing from light to shadow and back indiscriminately, a figure moves slowly down the steps to from the east.

The young girl, not more then 12 years old pads out from behind the statue. A rat girl dressed in faded blue jeans and a teal t-shirt with a cartoon wolf decorating the front "tree's arn't any fun" she chuckles softly

Verger shrinks away for some reason, looks disoriented and nervous. "I... Sorry. Thought you were someone else." He glances around with his mismatched eyes glowing faintly. "More interested in what's growing on them. That's... That's all."

The girl seems a bit hesitant, glancing around with an odd expression before rubbing her eyes with her arm, stepping right besides the mistling. Looking over his shoulder "and what grows on them?"

The figure descends further, coming closer to the statue although not, so far as can be determined from its rather arbitrary path, straight for them. The lost, indescribably odd feeling intensifies, and soft, english-accented muttering drifts through the night air.

Verger looks around wildly, seeming to shrink in his seat. "Acorns grow on them. At least on the one I'm looking for." His wings start to buzz and flit noisily now, as though he were pondering running or doing something or other. The air starts to feel slightly electric, pricking up hairs and making cloth crackle with static.

The young rat girl snatches up one of those fluttering wings, wraping a fist around it and holding it tightly, ceasing it's movement or at least trying "doesn't sound like fun" the girl seems to freeze in place, before twitching, her head tilting and and then turning towards the figure in the darkness

"...understand mist faces in dreams and quiet, too quiet, Jason says..." The words arrive, all in the same soft voice that doesn't seem to be addressed to anyone at all. The figure approaches the nearest point to the statue that his current path will take him and becomes visible as Jacob. He doesn't seem to have noticed the two, and on closer inspection, instead of his usual clothes, he wears a battered, frayed pair of sweatpants and nothing underneath his usual jacket. His glasses are missing, too.

Verger makes a choked noise. "OW! Don't... They.. That hurts." He tries to twist around or poke at the girl as best as he can without pulling too sharply on that wing. "Please.. They're kind of sensitive." The other wing flutters madly now, slapping against the fist but not really doing much more than fanning the flesh. The wing is slightly rubbery to the touch, more resilient than it looks, but still a fairly fragile thing. It gives the skin a slight pins and needles sensation to one's skin as it's touched. "Ow. Owww... I... Jake? Hey Jake? Make the kid here let go of me, would you?"

The girl giggles playfully, twisting the wing sharply before trying to snap the thing in half before she finally lets go "sorries" the girl flops to the ground, dead and unmoving until jacob finishes speaking, glancing up at him before moving to all fours like some feral animal, shaking her head violently before narrowing her eyes at the man "jacob"

Jacob winces exaggeratedly, bringing his arms up as if to shield his head from some unseen attack. The drifting flow of words turns abruptly to a whimper, and fear rolls through the air- not overpowering, but most definitely there- and presumably quite strong consider that Jacob is still some yards away. His name seems finally to call his attention, but his only reaction is to look that way, eyes darting in all directions.

Verger writhes as his wing gets twisted. Once the girl lets him go he quickly twists around to assess the damage, his eyes watering faintly. He looks around nervously as though expecting the statue to leap on him or something before diving after the girl and grabbing her ankle. "Stop it. Leave him alone. Jake, you're doing it again, wake up or I dump water on you."

Kankuro watches from a distance away, finally opening her eyes from her distracted state, peering into the shadows with a nervous look. She readies her spear, moving to her feet. The young girl standing besides the jacob and the mistling remains somewhat still now. Watching jacob blankly

Jacob just doesn't seem to see the two of them; his eyes continue to dart in a way that suggests that if he's looking at anything at all, it doesn't exist outside his head. Confusion is the next thing to hit, as that lost feeling intensifies again; without conscious thought to restrain them, the emotions hit like sledgehammers- strong and insistent. "Can't find..." he starts muttering again, almost as if he hadn't stopped, making no more sense than before, and starts down the steps again.

Verger practically crawls on top of the ratgirl, getting lost in emotions that aren't even his own as he clings to the child as though perhaps she knew the way and what was going on. "Jake? Jacob? Can't find what?"

Kankuro leans against the blade of the spear, franticly trying to cut herself even as the blade slides off her fur like water. The reaction to cut herself, to calm her emtions, to think and plan. The girl near the statue slumps forward like a rag doll as she's held, breathing ragid breaths

A small procession arrives from the North. Two humanoid cats, the lead one stocky, quite pregnant, with a penchant for peircings. Behind her, a tall leggy cat with a wild mane and odd blotch-like spots. Following the two felines, is a small an elfin girl.

Leetah's tail sways rudderlike behind her at knee level. She looks back momentarily at Gwendolyn, and raises the tip to a convient height for the elf to grab, if she was so inclined.

Jacob makes his way down the eastern steps slowly, stopping and starting, muttering more or less to himself while
Verger lies, nearby, pinning a motionless rat-girl child to the ground. The closer one is to Jacob, the stranger the whole atmosphere feels- a lost sense pervades the atmosphere; no matter how familiar the surrounds are (or aren't), right now they seem both the same and strange, less reliable.

Jacob mutters something that sounds irate, bordering on angry; It could be, "Anything, where are they? Where is she? What voices?"

Verger is clutching what looks like a little ratgirl in his arms, now trying to crawl away from Jacob. One of his wings is bent oddly, and the air has a growing sort of electrical charge that makes skin tingle and fur stand on end. "Jake... Jake godammit... WAKE UP!!!" There's a rumble of thunder as he speaks the last part, like a distant storm off in the mists, despite the night sky being perfectly clear.

Kankuro is some distance away, watching the gathering near the statue, as well as the small group that passes though from the shadows. The rat girl that Verger had sits where she was left, looking down at the ground in front of her. The child couldn't be more then twelve years old, barefoot, and wearing a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt with a cartoon wolf decorating it

Aliron strolls in after the others, moving like flowing water even as he watches casually. He pauses as he enters, his oddly mobile ears folding back at the...strangeness pervading the area. The hand that rests absently on the pommel of his sword tightens slightly, the man glancing around with a slight frown.

The small elfin maid stops in step, looking from the frantic angry young human to the frantic creature shaking the rat girl. Glancing back at her new companions, she says, "Go ahead if you want, I wish to try and help if I can." Then she crossses towards Verger and the rat-girl.

Sadie leads the small band of mismatched companions from the North and towards the scene that is bared before them. At seeing and perceiving what is about, the cat bares her teeth and growls quietly. Her very nature combined with such surroundings provokes her tail to lash and the stalks of fur at the nape of her neck stand at attention. She glances across the eyes of the three in tow before descending the steps, further enveloping herself in the unknown.

Leetah's hands clench, one bare furred, one sheathed in PVC. Blunted claws, permanently extended, curl and press into her palms. She goes taut, rising up on her toes, legs tensing, tendons strumming like violin strings. Her head whips around, flame coloured hair following as she looks Sadie, Gwendolyn, Aliron, the humans and the rat. With no cue what to do, she she follows Sadie.

Jacob's eyes dart this way and that, not looking at anything or anyone; something prompts him to cover his face, hiding them. The command to wake up has no effect on him. The anger in his voice is gone abruptly, but sense has yet to make an appearance. "Too many voices..." In addition to the strange atmosphere, the place suddenly, with nothing gradual about the shift, feels both scary and... sad?

Verger appears to have had enough of this as he gets to his feet, hauling the girl up with him. He lifts his hand and points it towards the man, and a stream of water shoots from his palm as though he's had a hose of some sort concealed in his armor the whole time. The blast is strong enough to almost knock the man down, and it soaks him to the bone. The bent wing on the mistling's back twitches wildly, and the pins and needles sensation in the air grows stronger like the threat of lightning on the damp kiss of the wind before a storm. Slowly the water stops flowing, simply trickling off the mistling's fingers as he continues to slowly back away. He's visibly trembling, as though cold and lost and somewhere alien.

Aliron's ears twitch a bit, his hand sliding down to grip the sword, though he doesn't quite draw it. He looks around, and seems about to say something to Verger when the water appears. He jumps back a bit, his eyes wide. "Verger! What the fuck is going on?"

Kankuro scoots down to a sitting position, her knees pulled up to her chest as she closes her eyes, hugging herself.

Gwendolyn pauses as water sprays the poor human. She turns to the creature who attacked him for a heartbeat, then hurries to Jacob's side. "Are you hurt, my lord?" she asks, concern filling her gentle, musical voice.

The young rat girl with Verger clings to the mistling, hugging him a little, a look of confusion now replacing the blank stare she had earlier

Leetah's fur halos around her shins and forearm, even her mane starting to raise with the charged atmosphere. Her tail poofs out, but that's her own natural reaction. She holds her left arm up in a defensive guesture, then blinks and lowers it, thinking for a moment she wore something else. Nervousness bounces her closer to Sadie, as she runs up on the other feline. Crowding her, she keeps her eyes on the situation.

The immediate effect of Jacob's dousing is to suddenly and abruptly obliterate the strange atmosphere of the place. However, it's also replaced by a wave of shock, and pure, gut-wrenching *terror* that slams into anyone even remotely near to Jacob. Along the Aes Vicus, several lights appear in windows; apparently other people felt it too.

Sadie's original intent was clear, a straight line for Verger or more appropriately, the child he carries. Though, noticing the way she holds to him the cat stops dead in her tracks. Her muzzle twists up in confusion and she murmurs something softly enough that it's likely only the cheetah is to hear it. Her head, attention specifically, flicks this way and that, searching for a threat maybe? Then a panicky expression darts across her face, and she sucks in air through pursed lips as her pupils expand.

Jacob falls over, dripping; any noise he might have made was mostly drowned, litterally, by the torrent. The terror fades away as quickly as it appeared to confusion; Jacob just sits and coughs. He's wearing no shirt under his jacket, on closer inspection, and only a tattered pear of sweatpants otherwise.

The sound of metal drawing across something as Aliron draws his sword and drops into a combat stance, the black blade of the sword glittering softly in the faint light from the street. He glances around, rather frantically, and takes a step back, searching for a source of the sudden dread, a target, or at least something to run from...then it's gone. He blinks, several times, still glancing around with a confused expression. "Verger! I'm waiting for an explanation!"

Verger skitters back, yanking the girl behind him as though trying to protect her from some horrible monster. His gait is unsteady and his eyes are unfocused. "You... You tie your leg to the fucking bed next time, Jacob!" He looks to Aliron with fear flashing in his mismatched eyes and then slowly fading. "It's... Some people shouldn't sleepwalk. It's dangerous to sleepwalk. Their dreams end up being a little too loud. Loud enough for everyone to hear."

Gwendolyn pauses for a heartbeat as the terror overwhelms her, tears springing into her amethyst eyes. As it passes, she unpins her cloak and kneels next to Jacob, murmiring soothingly. Wrapping the heavy velvet cloak around his shoulders, she continues to try and callm the young human.

The young, grey furred child peers out from behind Verger, studying everyone's reactions curiously. No sign of terror, or fear maring the girls expression

Leetah jumps against Sadie's back as the terror hits her, instinctively running in a straight line, not thinking to change. By the time she impacts, the emotions have faded, and she stops clinging to Sadie. Her tail keeps twitching, she looks like she's about to take off again, in a better reasoned direction.

Sadie stalls, and this is rather unfortunate as it ends in her being hit from behind just right. With a yelp of surprise, the girl falls forward onto paws and knees. Her initial response is a snarl, but it is quelled when eyes are filled with the sight of her distant sister. Whipping her vision back around, she stares into the arms of the mistling. What she sees results in a perplexed twisting of her countenance. Pushing up onto her hind paws, the woman takes a few hesitant steps back as the lines of a new emotion draw over her visage. She looks sick, and the clutching at her stomach furthers this idea.

"Verger," Aliron says, his musical voice a low, angry hiss. "Why is that fucking crazy shit happens every time you and the rat," he throws his off-hand out in a wide gesture towards the statue Kankuro is hiding next to. "I'm starting to think that the two of you need to be separated." The man seems to have forgotten the people he entered with, his graceful walk tense with the anger that's evident on his face.

Kankuro sits up, ears perking at Aliron's words. Slinking behind the statue quickly, to hopefully avoid attention. Still some distance away, she crawls to her feet, casually making her exit

the young child looks up at Aliron from behind Verger. Smiling at them with an innocent expression before walking over to them. Digging into the pockets of her jeans, she offers a peice of candy in her open paw

Varied expressions pass quickly over Jacob's face as he coughs; apparently some water went down the wrong tube. He turns his head around to look at Verger when his name is mentioned; the atmoshphere- now less dominating and insistent- turns mostly to embarrassment- especially strong near him, as he gives Gwendolyn a blank "who are you" look and pulls the cloak closer around him.

Verger's arm drops from the child he's holding. He follow's Aliron's gesture and blinks several times, his eyes glowing faintly as he notices Kankuro for the first time. "Believe me sir, crazy shit happens in this town all on it's own." His eyes narrow. "I didn't even know she was there..." He murmurs, the little girl forgotten. "Look, I was just trying to read my book. Then projection boy comes in here and doesn't seem to notice me screaming at him at the top of my lungs. Water seemed the best way to deal." He points a thumb to Jacob. "I doubt she had a hand in that."

Leetah hovers behind Sadie, stepping back as the feline does, trying to keep a polite distance, also looking ready to catch her should she get violently sick. Her breath comes in quick gasps, she checks everyone. Aliron, Gwendolyn and Jacob, Verger, the child, watching each one for something unexpected. Her ears flicker, down as she tenses to run, up as she waits to see, vibrating in nervous hesitation.

Gwendolyn gives him a comforting smile and pats him on the back. "Peace," she tells him. "I'll not harm you I promise. My name is Gwendolyn. Are you hurt?" Her tone is gentle and soothing, abeit a bit confused.

Aliron waves the child away, "Not now." He narrows his eyes slightly at Verger's words, then sheathes his sword, the blade sliding into the laquer sheath with a click. "It seems to avoid me under most circumstances, then," he says flatly and turns away. As he walks back towards Sadie and Leetah, he takes several long, drawn out breaths that seem to calm him enough to flash a wan smile at the cheetah. "I'm sorry for...whatever that was, Miss Firemane." He takes another long, slow breath and mutters to himself, "I hate this fucking place."

It would seem most appropriate that Sadie go to the child, but this is neglected as she pulls her lids tightly shut and brings a paw to her mouth. There is a guttural sound expelled from her throat as her abdomen contracts and a river of fluid pours from her muzzle. She manages to turn in enough time so as not to get it on herself, Aliron or Leetah, however she does end up coating the fingers of that one paw in her sickness. "Oh... Bastet." She manages to choke up.

The girl looks down at her open paw with a pouting expression. Wraping her small hand into a fist around the candy, she begins towards Aliron again. Her little quest cut short as she glances at Sadie "ick" the girl comments, scrunching her muzzle up

"Give it time," Verger answers Aliron as he hesitantly walks towards the two felines. "Hey? Are you okay? Do you need any help?" He kneels down to try and catch Sadie's eyes with his own. "Are you okay?" He's apparently entirely unaware of the fact that the feline was probably ready to pounce him not too long ago. Or maybe it just doesn't matter to him at all.

Leetah bobs her head as Aliron approaches, in seeming agreement with his statement, though of a questionable degree. Sadie's abrupt sickness doesn't spook her. She gently brushes at the base of the other feline's neck, an attempt to soothe her, then withdraws her hand as Verger approaches. Her eyes widen and she nods slowly to his question.

"Ick, indeed little Karni Mata." Rises Sadie's voice from up over her bent form. "Though surely yer Mum endeared it as well." With a sigh, she shakes her paw in an attempt to dislodge remaining strands of bile and such. The artist regally accepts the touch of her companion feline and even murrs a bit. Sadly, that sound is cut off as the mother-to-be finds herself gazing at Verger. "Don' tell me ye be that father of the child Goddess." She nearly spats.

It's hard to make a hasty, stealthy exit when everyone can feel your guilt, hurt, and simmering frustration, but Jacob- having shed the cloak and murmured a "sorry" in a rather strained tone to Gwendolyn, tries it, shivering as he half-shuffles, half-runs back up the steps eastwards, trying to pass anyone in the way quickly as if that'll help him avoid them.

Gwendolyn gasps in surprise as Jacob scrambles away from her. She gracefully hops to her feet, snatching up the cloak. "You'll catch your death running around all wet," she calls, hurrying after him. She glances back briefly at the others, but seeing everyone else is being looked after follows the human.

Verger stiffens a bit at Sadie's tone. "I'm nobody's father. I'm not too sure I even know what you're talking about, really." He glances at Leetah, studying her face for a moment before taking a peek over his shoulder to try and spot everyone else's location. He frowns somewhat at Jacob's departure, but he also looks a tad relieved as well. "Can I get you something to drink? Wash the taste out of your mouth?"

The young girl stares at Sadie as she speaks to her, looking as if she doesn't understand, but shrugs.
The rat child pads back over to Verger, standing behind him once again

Aliron manages a weak smile at Leetah, having already forgotten the child. He runs a hand through his hair, still frowning a bit. "Hell of a welcoming committee, it seems." He glances over at Sadie and flicks and ear, setting off a cascade of tiny tinkling sounds from the rings, "You alright?"

The cheetah's hand brushes lightly at the base of Sadie's neck again, that murr was a nice sound, and even though a confused stranger isn't much help, knowing someone has your back might be a small comfort as Sadie faces Verger. Leetah may be petting for herself, the action seems to be calming her down as well. She lowers her head, letting her mane cover her eyes, to hide from the mistling. Even her tail settles down to a slight twitch. It looks as if she missed Aliron's glance, but a moment later her gloved hand sneaks out, and squeezes around his wrist.

Sadie's normal, childish grin drops down into a disappointed little frown. "Peachy." She informs Aliron tartly. This is something that makes it obvious that mood swings are also a part of the territory. Her eyes now dance around to glance at Leetah, though she doesn't take any actions on it as of yet. Concerned glowing orbs lock onto Verger's for a long moment before she opens her lips to speak. "I admired the way you fought the machines and would normally consider such an offer. But I saw ye cut her, and now I be less inclined ta accept yer offers, stranger." Her words are flat and devoid of emotion, cold even.

The child's muzzle twists into a grin after Sadie speaks. Though it may just something else that caught her attention, tossing the candy from one paw to another

Aliron blinks slightly at the sudden contact from the cheetah, but doesn't seem to mind. He gives her a weak smile and glances at Sadie. "I vote we all chip in on a heaping load of get the hell out of here. I need a beer, anyway." His gaze shifts to Verger, watching him with an odd mixture of wariness and sympathy.

Leetah drops her hands together and interlaces her fingers, holding them against her front. She keeps her head bowed, avoiding eye contact with Sadie as well. She seems to be doing her best impression of a piece of furniture, a lamp perhaps. She'd make a very striking lamp if her hair lit up. For the moment though, it looks like she's trying to fade out of sight.

Verger rises fluidly to his feet, bumping the little girl behind him accidentally with his hip. "You didn't see her begging me for it. Don't judge a situation when you've only seen the tail end of it." He brushes his armor off, shaking a few more droplets off the leather of his armor. "But everyone's entitled to their opinion. Although I would have hoped you'd have a slightly higher one of me after I lost my wings and most of the skin on my back shielding you and Ceri from that monster in the streets." He sighs and glances back at the girl. "Hey. You got a place to sleep tonight? The fact that you're the first kid I've ever seen with candy in their hands and none in their mouth for so long I'm inclined to think you're not starving."

The girl eeps as she's bumped, clinging to the mistling's leg "Nu uh" the child answers simply

Sadie's expression darkens all the more, her lips going to a flat line and her eyes narrowing. She almost seems to be concentrating on something... something. Is she going to explode? Walk away? Or become another household accessory? No. She smiles, an expression that grows until it dares to tear open the crevices of her lips. This ends in a laugh and a shake of the head. "Oh... Dear. I don' like ye one bit. No... No, I should think not." With an odd little dismissive paw gesture, she starts to walk away, ascending the tiers to the South.

"Most people don't," Verger says absently as he makes a grasping motion from the air and then drops something at the little ratgirl's feet. It's an emerald, probably almost as big as the child's clutched fist and cut perfectly. "Take that to the Green, tell them It's from Verger and Meri and to give you a room and some food or something." He jams his thumbs under his belt and walks towards one of the statues, picking up a dusty looking book with a faded emblem of a massive tree etched on its cover. "People wonder why I hate books..."

Aliron blinks at Sadie's odd change in demeanor. He watches her stalk off, and glances at Leetah with an arched eyebrow. "Well. I'm gonna go get myself something alcoholic to drink. You're welcome to come along, though I'm probably going to sack out soon. Or," he gestures to Sadie. "You can go with her, if you'd like..."

Leetah scampers after Sadie, bounding from stillness to match pace behind Sadie. She hurries a quick glance at Aliron, confusion, that's what her face shows. Her muzzle prys open in a yawn, pink tongue, white teeth flashing before she quickly covers with a paw. Tired cheetah.

The rat girl oohs and smiles, shifting the emerald in her hands, looking it over a long moment before she nods her head a few times, running off with the prize "pretty".

Sadie doesn't appear to recognize the approach of Leetah from behind other than the rotating of an ear. Saying in words meant only for those with acute hearing, the woman murmurs, "Ye'd best go with drinky-drink boy if ye be lookin' fur the inn. Ye be welcome ta sleep in ma home, but there be only one bed." This lights up her face a bit more, and she starts to giggle again, hunching her shoulders and strolling away into the night.

Verger tucks his book under his arm and nods to Aliron and Leetah before making his way north. "Good night folks. I hope the rest of your evening is boring as hell."

The cheetah stands there, watching the other feline stroll away, the advice and invitation sinking in. Leetah follows Aliron instead, the two heading out of the square and towards the Fiddler's Green.

Gallery: Images of Leeta

2005-02-22T22:56:30Z

I'm ready. queenofstripes, you wished to know what I look like. I've got a few images beyond the tag that were generously created by jordangreywolf.

Instructing Tahir in the ways of Savanite Sign.

This is one of my favourite images. It is a few seconds before discovering the Speaker Glove, and texts of the ancient Silent Ones, and one other thing. Irrefutable proof, both of the Savanite's past and the injustice tolerated by Rephidim Temple because it was convenient. This was in Tarsus tower, when I was searching someplace I shouldn't be, where many items were unstable and potential traps.

Not everything I found in that box was a dry technical manual or historical document. One book was an epic romance, filled with heroism and adventure. A story that predated contact with other races. More about it later, but it informed me most of all what the Silent Ones were like.

There was one more thing in that box. A weapon. A Silent One device controlled by hand-signs that shot plasma-flame. This was a dream I had about it, soaring above the clouds, dressed in battle robes with my hair streaming behind me.

I don't look terribly happy in this one. That's understandable, as it seems both my hair and clothes have been burnt off. Sometimes the artist takes a few liberties... It's a slightly different look for me, I hope you enjoy. It was done by Lon Smart, and I'm really happy I managed to get it at all.

Through the Fourth Wall

2005-02-08T14:43:46Z

Thank you for being interested in my story. It is spread across years and locations, and this is my attempt to gather it together. My memory is picture perfect sometimes, and at others weathered and worn like a painting hung too long in the sun. My earliest actions bring a twinge of embarrassment, but I can't deny them. This was me, this is me, and in the telling you will see what changes and what I always hold dear.

These stories are not of one voice. They owe a lot to others, the people I've encountered and their own words. Some are shy, concerned about the unfair impression that might be caused by my limited view. For their peace of mind I have agreed to protect them; only my friends will know of my friends.

One day I may bring these rough remembrances together in a better form, polish them, remove what is not relevant and refine that which is. Until then, please enjoy them as they occur.

I must acknowledge and thank the following:

jordangreywolf: For creating the Silent Ones and the Savanites.
tuftears: For making my sisters and I.
Turael: For bringing me back and giving me a future.
boingdragon: For remembering and preserving the past.

Plus of course, the cat whose story had to end before it began.

I recommend these two places:
Sinai, Worlds of the Unknown. Where I was born, and where I had my first adventures.
Twisted Kingdoms, In the Mists' Eye. Where I currently am, and the source of my new stories that will be collected here.

If you'd like to see more, please reply and introduce yourself.