Logs:Dream of Me - When the Faeries Sing

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Dream of Me - When the Faeries Sing
Dramatis Personae

Quibble as ST. Final scene in the Plot:Dream of Me plot line. Dutch, Grimm, Gwydion, Nina Cassin, Rebel Nicks, Rosalind Lowe

7 July, 2021


Strange lights in the hills of Crow Hollow, not to mention the swarming and dancing of the entire murder of Crow Hollow crows around said lights, attracted a small crowd of concerned parties to spend their Wednesday night hiking up a trail-less mountainside to reach the source. Upon reaching the location, players find a ring of small brown mushrooms surrounding a ring of prickly bushes and a clearing filled with dancers, some mortal, some not. After a bit of confrontation, wolf growling and an herbaceous tiger the size of a truck, it is discovered that the Fae who has been causing all of these problems for the past 28 days is skipping town tonight, to die and be reborn again a century hence. Also that he is a sneaky cheater who doesn't want to get pounced by giant tigers. Also also that because the tiger did bite him, the first time, said tiger has narcotic Fae blood in his mouth, a syrupy goopy sap which tastes sweet and is a potent drug.

Location

G01 In the hills of Crow Hollow.


xxxxxCrow Hollow has a reputation for being haunted. The drowned towns, the murder of crows, the wild landscapes and rocky hills, none of it is soft and warm and inviting, though careful landscaping has tamed islands of human habitation.

xxxxxToday, as the sun slowly sinks toward the horizon, an hour or so away from setting, the 'sunset' on approach is merely a lessening of the light, fleecy, soft-edged clouds blanketing the skies in a muffling of smooth grey which would make Photoshoppers' lives so easy. Shadows gather here and there, hikers returning from day trips to escape the dimming underneath the trees, but not all, it seems, have chosen to do so.

xxxxxA flash of light up on a hillside catches the eye, caught on the wing of a dancing crow. Another of the great black birds flies into view, joining the aerial ballet, and slowly, one by one, the entire murder has set flight, spiraling in adventurous circles 'round a single, gleaming point. No events have been advertised, and no road leads particularly close, but the music...oh, what music it is! It tugs at the senses, a calling, a finding, wordless enchantment easily fought, but not forgotten. High pipes and flutes, drums, and stranger things echo through the hollow, carried on the fickle wind with a hint, the faintest hint, of lilies of the valley.


Grimm's arrival is a silent one. No car of his own, no taxi, and no bike to be seen. He's barefoot with a grey shirt and canvas pants that have already gotten a bit dirty today. He'd heard tell of strange thigns going on around town, but the sight of a murder of crows seemingly swarming has the man staring up with his eyes shot wide. "What in damnation is this?"


xxxxxIt's a known thing that where there are crows, there are often wolves. Or was that the other way around? And isn't it usually ravens, or--? xxxxxWell, anyway, there's a wolf padding through the trees, a coat of dark and ruddy browns allowing for some good blending with the underbrush. She's a slender animal, perhaps owing to the lack of other wolves at her heels, old enough to have been either a subordinate or breeding female driven out of her pack. Either that, or a very, very late dispersal. xxxxxWhatever her circumstances, she's overcome her species' latent neophobia out of visible curiosity, ears pricked and attentive, amber eyes focused, nose working overtime as she peers up at the crows. She's not moving all that quickly, bowing her head to sniff the ground, lifting it again to scent the air, this pattern repeating itself as she draws ever-nearer to the 'event's' epicenter, which she's careful to give a wide berth.


No doubt she is on the arm on Gwydion, settled into his side as she always is when with her person. The worn out little Rebel has been VERY insistent at needing to be at this particular park. Once again she clutches a little pouch in her free hand. The music draws her attention and towards it she goes, looking down at her clutched pouch. "Lets go here, Dion." she tells her partner, staying close to him. "I want to go here." insists the excessively tired Rebel, who is getting a little unreasonable with her demands.


xxxxxA man steps into view, not long after the wolf that had come into the area as well. To say he looks fitting for the woods doesn't do justice to the burly, kumberjack look that he has. Jeans and workboots, a white t-shirt and all the way to the flannel, though yellow and orange instead of red and black. Sleeves are rolled, hair pulled back into a bun, and his eyes focused on the circling birds. Dutch makes his way fully in, briefly pulling his eyes away from the Murder to look at the ruddy brown wolf, "Well what in the hell is causing this. You smell anything?" he asks, as if a crazy man in the woods talking to his dog is normal in his life.


xxxxxClearly, Rebel is perfectly reasonable. Telling one's paramour 'Let's go off into the deep dark woods in the middle of nowhere, off the beaten path, toward a strange party with strange maybe-not-natural lights and dancing crows and magic music' is completely sane. Right? Right.

xxxxxNina, being farthest up the hill, not to mention a wolf, is likely the first to catch wind of the scents involved, the sounds of dancing and revelry, a dozen tongues drifting on the air. Some of them haven't been spoken in centuries, and others never have, here in THIS world. The people are...ordinary people-smells. Mostly. Sort of? Maybe. It's tough to tell. There's stuff that might be food, or maybe that's just flowers? There ARE a lot of flower-smells, primarily lily of the valley, and a lot of it.

xxxxxGrimm...well! Of all of them, Grimm is likeliest to recognize some of the sounds, and scents, seeing as they most decidedly are not from this side of reality. Several of the crows are low enough to see the figures through the trees, but they do nothing, simply circling the clearing sunwise for three 'rounds, then swirling through a turnover to repeat the playful flight anti-sunwise, one leading seamlessly into the other.


xxxxxThe wolf-- sneezes, which, for a moment, seems to be the bulk of her response. She looks over at the man, however, whines a couple times, looking between him and-- whatever it is over the edge of the hillside, and starts to pad forward again, nose to ground. Just a brief pause for one more sneeze, then a more significant one at the edge of some mushrooms. xxxxxIt's here that she performs the usual canine ritual of sniffing and shying, her hackles bristling along her nape and between her shoulders, ears pricked to the sides in a blatant show of uncertainty. One wouldn't go so far as to call the reaction spooked, but she's definitely uneasy, and making no effort to hide it.


Grimm kept much of his attention on the birds high above. He then singles out one of the birds, and beckons it closer with a motion of his finger. "Come here," he whispers. As he waits for the crow to come he continues forward, nose slightly lifted as he scents the air. The close he gets to the nexus the more his lips curl into a snarl.


xxxxxDutch walks up the hill farther behind Nina, eyes finally seeming content to leave the crows as he scans around. Faint flaring of the nostril, and he is looking down, stepping over and kneeling next to something. He gets closer, one hand to the ground putting him closer still. Head turns from side to side and he is following what seems to be a ring of brown mushroom, and he points to them, looking to the wolf, "Get a load of these. When's the last time you saw something like this that was just random?" he asks, sucking a short pull of air through his teeth. He reaches out to run a hand along the wolf's back, fingers scritching into the fur in some attempt to help east that tension. "Yeah... something ain't right." he says, seeming to agree with something unsaid by the wolf, or maybe just talking to her as a way of working through his own internal dialogue.


xxxxxOne of the crows, curious, tucks its wings close to its sides after craning its neck around to eyeball Grimm from upside down, then neatly drops through the treetops to perch atop a tree and *caw!* a head-tilty greeting.


The Reborn has never been the most reasonable but she's /usually/ willing to bend. Gwydion seems willing to at least indudge his companion so he lets her lead him off. She seems a little calmer with how he is letting her do her thing along with him at her side. Towards the mushrooms she moves, very much trying to draw towards them. She does give a pause to glance at the others present then up at Gwydion then down to her pouch. She seems to be a little indecisive on whether she should keep going or not. IT is really feeling like it is where she should be.


xxxxxBeyond the ring of mushrooms is an inner ring of brush, the lights and shadows of dancing figures flickering between the branches and midsummer leaves. Very healthy leaves, those. Are they...dancing? No, no. Surely not. That's just a trick of the light. The perfectly innocent shrooms, should anyone dare to step past them, are no impediment, and the wildly flowing music is sure to put pep in the step of anyone who lets it in. Excellent for dancing, that. Just look at the lovely people spinning, twirling, swirling, whirling and laughing their way around the fire! They're, uh. Arguably human. Ish. If humans were utterly perfect and symmetrical and never set a foot wrong and sometimes had voices as distracting as a siren's song.

xxxxxThe latter voice, Rebel knows well. Very well. She certainly ought to. He comes to her in dreams.


The tall man walking with Rebel has been there the whole time! Gwydion is walking along with Rebel as they approach the mushrooms and he looks around sighing a bit as he looks at the other man talking to a wolf who's not shying and running from folks... And then the creepy mushroom ring, "Didn't Shakespeare write about not setting foot inside mushroom rings? Are we sure this is a smart idea darlin?"


xxxxxThe wolf's tail gives a slight wag at the contact-- an acknowledgment, but she's still visibly uneasy, lowering her head again to sniff at the edge of one of the mushrooms. It's a little more confident this time, but not by much, her head craning forward to chance nudging her muzzle over the line, but no further. Maybe she's heard Shakespeare, too. xxxxxMay well have, given she straightens, and growls not long after, her gaze snapping over towards Rebel and Gwydion. Her ears drop and the growling grows just a touch louder, her tail raising to half-mast of its own accord, the warning abundantly clear to even those unfamiliar with wolf-'speak.'


xxxxxDutch is following the point of the wolf's nose, and as she reacts like she does he sighs, eyes lifting and panning along the ring of the mushrooms, as far as they can be seen from where he is kneeling. "Well, that figures." He stands up, brushing his hands off as he looks to the others present that are heading further up the hill. He nods in their direction, "Evenin. Don't suppose you folks know anything about what's goign on over there?" he asks, though the rumble of his voice doesn't sound convinces it's a question. He sees how Nina is reacting, but aside from a glance down to her he doesn't react much more than that. "First time I've seen anything like this out in these woods... or, you know... anywhere."


The gaze of Rebel is drawn to the dancers and the voices. Her steps start moving a little more urgently towards the voice she has gotten to know so well. "Of course it is, Dion. I doubt it is dangerous or anything. Besides, there is a voice I know." The growl from the wolf gets a confused look from Rebel. she doesn't seem to find it odd it is being talked to nor to find one lingering about. She gives a tug to the arm of the Purified, once again unreasonably insisting, "We need to get closer, Dion." The lack of sleep for her is surely super obvious.


Grimm looks up to the bird to look away from the mushrooms to speak to the bird just a moment longer. "Explain what caused all this, and do so now." It's as much a request as it is a command as the Changeling goes back to looking around. "Why do the crows swarm, and these people dance? Do you know where these people came from?"


xxxxxCreepy, pah. They smell delicious! Take a bite! Perfectly innocent mushrooms, those.

xxxxxAs for Grimm and the crow, the bird drops down a bit lower, but not TOO low, one dark and glossy eye fixing upon the wolf and others present with a jaunty, but nonetheless cautious air. The bird caws down to the man with every appearance of answering the question, rrking and clacking its beak before rousing its feathers in a contented fluff and giving itself a vigourous shake.

xxxxx(While the others won't understand, what GRIMM learns, thanks to faerie magic, is a simple, 'Smelly not-food big-not-human-not-you called. Food! We get food if we play. Fly with us? Up?' Because this is a reasonable expectation of someone who can talk to it, naturally. Grimm is just an oddly-shaped crow.)


xxxxxThe wolf bares her teeth when Rebel looks over at her, twitching forward as if to give chase, the growling bumping up to outright snarling, those hackles bristling. It's a clear threat display, no confusion about it, though whether the animal intends to make good on it is another question entirely. Her body language certainly spells out that yes, yes she does.


Gwydion sighs a bit as Rebel's still insisting on going closer to the mushrooms. Then the wolf is going half-mast warning with her tail, "Galsked..." And for those that are versed in the first tongue a rough translation to English would be 'Damn it'. Looking over at Dutch as the man asks his question and he looks over towards the mushrooms, "I wasn't kiddin when I was askin about Shakespeare's play about mushroom circles. Midsummer Night's Dream. Fairy Circle. I don't know anythin bout 'em cept to stay clear." And to Rebel he looks over at her, "I've heard nothing good comes from messing with those circles. But maybe just a little closer. Who's voice do you recognize?"


xxxxxDutch is eyeing Rebel, looking between the wolf and her. The phrase pulls his attention back to Gwydion though. He sniffs, which could be easily confused as someone clearing their nose, "Never did much readin. Heard of the guy though. Did plays or somethin right?" He looks back to the ring of mushrooms, "I think staying the hell away is probably good advice. Hate it when I don't get to follow good advice." he says with a tired sound tinting his voice. He does turn back to Rebel though, "Any idea why my friend doesn't like you? Usually she's a pretty good judge of character."


xxxxxThe voice, when it comes, is intensely distracting to all who hear it (-2 penalty to all actions other than listening to the voice). The tone seems pleased, though, even if the words are in a language not even Gwydion and Rebel know. Masculine, a smooth tenor, the speaker seems to be encouraging something, his words polite, but still a command.


Grimm slams his mouth shut, but anyone could easily hear the growling he tries to muffle. He closes his eyes for a beat, takes a deep breath, and then turns to face the crow much more properly. The Changeling whispers, "Can you tell me where the not-human went? What they looked like?" He stops to rub at his forehead, pinch at the nose of his brow, and let out a long and tired sigh. "I can give you even more food if you can tell me about the not-human."


xxxxxThe crow bobs its head, then twists it to the side, eyeing Grimm, and straightens to sidle a few careful steps closer along the branch. After looking back over its wings, the corvid caws a dismissive reply, but the promise of more food has laser focus on the Changeling below it, beady little eyes bright. A second crow, flying overhead, caws down at the pair, but doesn't join them. It just shows off, flapping a loop and a twist, before zooming onward.

xxxxx(To Grimm's ears alone, the first bird's cawing is more than just noise! 'Standing! He dances there. Tree man, vine man, green man, flower man. Food? More food? Food now?')


xxxxxThe wolf bolts the moment Rebel starts moving, rushing to try and get between the woman and the faerie ring. She snaps her teeth once, hard enough that the clack of her jaws slamming together echoes against the trees, the escalation of threat suggesting that she'll take it further if the girl insists on continuing. If anything, the addition of that voice has just added to the fury the animal displays.


xxxxxDutch turns his head to the side, the voice coming through making his body more still than it should be able to be. After a long moment of him looking off in one direction his eyes slowly pan back around, and for those that can see such things there is almost a twinkle of moonlight reflecting in them, but that could just be a play of the light. He does stop as he reaches Gwydion once more, however, eyes looking down to the ground around him, up and off to the sides. He regards the man curiously, but then his attention goes back to the direction of the dancers, of the voice. Nina is regarded, "She's got the right idea. No way in Hell we should head in there. Doesn't smell right... or... well... smells too right."


xxxxxIt really does smell wonderful. The foods are perfectly cooked, and even if the seasonings aren't what one would call traditional human fare, they are designed to tempt, after all. Sweets and savouries, creams and greens, many are just close enough to 'ordinary' to deceive the mind into thinking they're anything of the sort.

xxxxxThey aren't.

xxxxxThe teeth-snapping, however, was loud enough to draw attention...

xxxxxParting the branches of an oddly glossy blueberry bush with all the difficulty of a fish through water, a slender, poised young woman in a sleek ivory (hedgespun flower petals, to Grimm's fae eyes) gown regards the group with lively green eyes. "Ah! Unexpected guests! Please, come in! Would you like to play a game?"


Gwydion looks at Rebel as she starts to walk closer, "Rebel just hold off. I don't want to go into that circle." And the purified's gaze flits across the folks gathered around when he senses... something. As the wolf snaps at Rebel, Gwydion's hand flares back like he's getting ready to throw something... Followed by a pause and a nod towards the wolf as the purified realizes that she's not actively attacking Rebel but attempting to prevent her from entering the circle, "My friend's dreams have been poisoned. At least that's what a nice young lady we talked to explained to us." As Dutch starts to look around at the spirits in Gwydion's general vicinity the purified as that lightbulb ahhhhh moment, "I thought it was her but it's you as well isn't it?" His gaze quickly flows back to the crows then the circle, "Good evenin ma'am. I'd rather not play any games today. Perhaps in a century or two?"


The other fae-touched being can see Grimm's tail stiffen and his ears go flat as the Elemental regards them. "Food later," he says with a look to the crow. "Will feed the entire flock." Then Grimm turns to address the man fully with a scowl that bares all those sharp teeth that line his jaw. "Who are you?" he asks as politely as a Summer can get with the season in full swing.


When Gwydion orders her to stop there is a brief hesitation, a little abnormal for her again, but she does stop and backs up to his side once more. "Why not?" she asks Gwydion, "It really looks fun, not scary." As it seems to be common when it comes to Lily Rebel's interested is peaked at the game offer. "I wou.." her words trail off when Gwydion decides against playing a game. A pout is given up at him but she doesn't decide to do as she wants. For now. Instead she looks to GRimm at his question then to the two werewolves.


xxxxxThe newly arrived woman gets only some of the wolf's attention, and none of it is good. She continues to snarl, openly, her tail still held at that aggressive half-mast, ears tilted down but staying pricked forwards, the cadence of the sound she makes changing ever-so-slightly.


xxxxxThe crow considers Grimm, then the people in the ring it can see below it on the other side, and caws something down toward the Changeling before pushing itself up to flap into the rest of the flock, rejoining the dance. The word is spreading, too, because more and more of the crows dive-bomb the area to check out their future food-bringer.

xxxxx(The crow's response is a simple affirmative, greedy and anticipatory.)

xxxxxThe young woman, upon hearing Gwydion's reply, pouts prettily and protests, stepping forward, "A century or two is so very -long- away. Won't you come and dance for just a -little- while?" A dazzling smile is bestowed upon the rest of the group as well as she offers, "You must be thirsty after your journey. Your guardian, too." She nips backward with a light step and a laugh, disappearing into the light beyond the bush, and when she returns a few moments later, she is NOT alone. A good half dozen of the dancers, none of them the worse for wear, none even sweaty or breathing heavily, appear with arms laden with foods and drinks on silver trays with bone-ivory inlay, all offering their bounty to the motley troupe before them. All are beautifully, elegantly dressed in strange garments (hedgespun, as Grimm can see, some from scraps of silver sky and starlight, others wearing patterned leaves or fangs or flowers).


xxxxxDUtch seems about to say something to Gwydion when the new woman arrives, and he turns to look at her. If he had been suspicious before it shows now. "Yeah... fucking pass." he answers to her. It isn't as sophisticated as the other man may have said it, but the intention is there. He steps closer to Nina-wolf, the rise in agitation she shows spilling over into him as well. The pout doesn't sway him, but as she returns with others he takes a step back from the ring. "Nina..." he says, letting her read the rest through his body language. He speaks back to the others nearby, head angled off to either side to let them know he isn't asking anyone in particular, "You know what kinda of fucking close encounters shit is going on here?" Despite the slight retreat he is still squared off to the dancers, body tense. He looks to the woman that seems to be leading them, "Yeah I'm good. Dealt with too many things having pretty faces but teeth in the cooch."


Gwydion cocks his head off to the side looking at the woman from the ring, "If you think a century or two is a long time from now you're still just a child." To Rebel he looks and shakes his head, "Because no story I've ever read or been told in my lifetime that includes anything coming from a magic circle has a happily ever after." When he looks over at Dutch he just blinks a bit, "How eloquent. I'm honestly rather impressed with that description."


xxxxxThough reluctant to back off - very reluctant, if the lagtime between hearing her name spoken and action is any indication - the wolf nonetheless withdraws, moving to flank Dutch in the meantime. The woman and the dancers are all regarded with a kind of naked hatred that's further communicated in a continued growl, her own willingness to engage in 'play' that doesn't involve an excess of bite wounds made painfully apparent.


Speaking of teeth, Grimm continues baring his teeth to the other Changeling. He briefly shifts his mismatched gaze over to the group dancing, and then over to Dutch. "Listen to your friend," he nearly hisses. "You," he says with a finger pointed to the stranger. "Where is the man that leads you? Because I do not at all know what you have planned for the hu-" He stops, just barely mindful for a beat. "Whatever you have planned is not going to happen."


xxxxxThe lovely young woman blinks limpid eyes up at Gwydion, as (seemingly) innocent as the lilies scenting the air. SHE seems completely oblivious to Nina's threat. Some of the others...ah, they give the werewolf a wide berth. The young woman who seems to speak for the group protests a hurt, saddened, "The dance will -leave-. The cycle is almost over. We won't return to this circle for a very long while."

xxxxxShe shifts her attention toward Rebel, next, and holds her arms out, as if beckoning the Reborn to join her. "If you will not dance, perhaps your lady will! She is so weary, the poor, dear thing." While she doesn't move in any magical gestures or recite incantations, those who can sense such things can tell the woman is using something supernatural, soothing Rebel's weariness and easing her exhaustion. In a blink, the Reborn feels fresh as a daisy, as if she had just awakened from a full night's sleep, not sore or tired at all. Quite clean, too.

xxxxxGrimm, however, does not get the magical 'too little time for a shower' treatment. He gets a quick blink and a swifter smile, confident and sure. "Lily is in the circle. You've only to step past to speak with him. The fruits of our labours are already at the table, faerie child. You'll know them, soon enough."


xxxxxDutch's scowl deepens the more this woman talks. Eyes mostly on her even as he hears the others' responses as well. A slight look away from the woman is given to Grimm as he almost says something else, but nothing so blatant as asking him about it is given. Instead he takes a step to the side, partially blocking the path between Rebel and this strange woman, "She doesn't need to dance either lady. How bout you just scoot that too-pretty ass back to where you came from." He does glance over at Grimm again though as he is referred to as faerie child, "So you're the one that knows more? Want to fill us the fuck in?"


Upwards Rebel's hands lift to grasp the arms of the flower woman but then there is a Dutch there. The soothing of of everything causes Rebel to blink and settle once again at Gwydion's side, she's not pushing past a person she can tell she will not win against. "I think going to dance is a good idea, Dion. I'm feeling much better than I have in a long time." Who knows if this is a long term thing. She sensed what was being done so, to her at this point it means good things. This Fae that is luring her. "Perhaps it will make it so I can sleep properly again." Rebel sounds very excited about this prospect.


Grimm shoots an askance glance in his fellow faerie's direction before turning to address Dutch. "What was it he said. Do you know the people that take children in a van?" He thumbs in the direction of where Lily was said to be, and adds, "That is what these people are. Usually." His left, green eye was twitching when he turns back to the other Changeling. "Call me faerie child again, and I will eat your still beating heart out of your chest," he growls. After that bit of an explanation he turns around completely, and starts to head in the direction where Lily was said to be.


xxxxxThe wolf makes a sound like a groan and a growl, like a YouTube husky tantrum pitched to 'demonic,' the frustration in that sound and in her posture more than evident as Rebel *again* tries to give the all-clear. She then looks *pointedly* at Gwydion, snarling at him like she's outright berating him to leave. With, presumably, the young woman on his arm.


Gwydion looks at Rebel and sighs, "If you want to go dancing we can go dancing. I own a bar. With a dance floor. We don't need to go into a mushroom circle in a clearing with the folks messing with your dreams." As Grimm starts to walk into the circle he sighs turning towards the clearing again, "Oh this can't be good." He wraps his arm around Rebel's waist and takes a step back dragging her with him slightly if needed.


xxxxxThe young woman frowns at Grimm when he offers such an explanation of what they do, but the growl prompts a slight flinch of surprise and wariness. She doesn't back down, green eyes narrowing, then flicking off toward the direction of The Voice inside that faerie ring. With a sniff of distaste and no effort made to stop the other Changeling from his desire to forge on through the shrubberies, she slings an effortless smile back upon that pretty face and tells the others, "Your wolf is being rude to Lily's hospitality. None will be harmed, here, though we commend you for your caution. On other nights, it would be deserved."

xxxxxAs for Grimm? The shrubberies don't part so easily for him, unless he's using Wild, too, to convince them to play nice. The circle of dancers do try to intercept him, to draw him in, but if he seems determined not to dance, they simply leave him be. Several look like hikers caught at the wrong time, and many seem almost drugged, though that could be the alcohol -- there are many, many jugs of questionable beverages, and many, many ways to make a human tipsy.

xxxxxStanding alone while holding court amidst a small crowd of servants, Changelings and hobs alike, Lily is as lovely as his name. He notes Grimm's approach, and though he doesn't say anything, the Summer's aggression prompts a few guards to step between the incoming outsider and their lord.


When Grimm passes the mushroom ring to where lily is said to be Rebel starts to follow, her expression changing to a bit of concern. Rebel might not think that dealing with Lily is a bad thing but it is being presented to her by everyone else it is. However, Gwydion steps back as she goes forward and she stumbles back with Gwydion's steps. "Dion! We have to help him! You guys act like it is bad so why are you guys letting someone be in supposed danger." Once she has regained her balance she gives a tug to Gwydion's arm to also try entering the dancers area once again.


xxxxxThe wolf advances a step to snap her teeth at the woman, that tail raised again. It's the approach of an animal that may as well say 'by all means, say that again,' a fire in her eyes suggesting that she would *love* to be antagonized into doing something drastic. Or maybe not. It's hard to say! This is a wolf, after all. xxxxxNonetheless, the growling takes a different tone after that, for the all of one moment she spends glancing at Grimm. Then it's right back to those low threats, and the occasional stare at Gwydion.


xxxxxDutch reaches up, thumb and fingers rubbing along his brow as Grimm walks through the ring of mushrooms. "Oh yeah, pedophile's throwing a party. You should check that out." he calls after him, seeing Rebel trying to change tactics as well, though still trying to get in. "You don't give up, I'll give you that." he says to her, but his eyes are on Grimm as he heads deeper in, to see if the spoken words of the woman are to be trusted. He doesn't see anything happen to him... and there is something in his eye as he watches her. "Shit..." he says, taking a step closer to the ring again, kneeling down and looking at the mushrooms again. He reaches down, and grabs one to break off.


Grimm doesn't give the dancers any attention beyond trying to make sure he doesn't walk into them. The fiery footfalls in his wake speak to what season he calls his. "Lily," he growls as the guards stand between him and his target. This only draws more of his ire to the fore as he continues to radiate around him in waves. "What are you playing at?" he asks with a tilt of his head. While he waits for an answer his gaze goes between the guards before falling back on Lily.


Gwydion continues to hold onto Rebel, "If he needs help I'll go in and help him. But you have to promise to stay out of the circle." He looks at Rebel, "I'm not really wanting to wait another lifetime to find you again darlin." He lets go of Rebel though and steps closer towards the circle but keeping to the human side of it for now his hand resting at his side like it's ready to grip a ball to throw.


xxxxxThe Fae's presence is discreet, by Fae standards. Ish. Sublime, however, in all ways (Humans can't attack (unless in self-defense), lie, or attempt to intimidate. Humans who can see him must additionally halve their Speed/Init scores (round down). There's just something about him that awes them/makes them cautious. Changelings and other supers need to roll Resolve + Composure in order to attack, lie to or intimidate you).

xxxxxWhen Grimm makes his fiery approach, Lily simply smiles and lifts a hand to offer an eloquent gesture, encompassing the dance. "Circles within circles. This does not concern you and yours. Have I not been merciful? My bondage is gentle, my word just, the unwary let off as lightly as I may."

xxxxxThe voice, as before, is immensely distracting (-2 to any action other than listening).

xxxxxAs for those still outside the faerie circle, the minions keep Nina-wolf under a careful eye, watching the creature for any aggression toward them, but never once do they A) step outside the ring or B) show signs of any true aggression, themselves. They simply wait, offering gifts.


xxxxxRosalind follows the trail around Freedom hills, canvas bag in tow, stopping every so often to pick up something she sees. It's odd behavior for a woman who doesn't look like she has mental problems or is suffering obvious financial difficulties, but there are things to collect at this specific hour. She has a very small kitchen knife with her, the one that wouldn't even cut baby carrots, but is great for roots when all you want is the flower. Carrying on her way, it's the lights and everything else that draw her closer and closer.


xxxxxNina falls in step beside Dutch, an ear quirked towards him, visual attention still shifting between Rebel and the 'celebrants.' She seems to have every intention to move and intercept if the girl so much as twitches, but does take a moment to kind of-- grumble? something, in response to whatever it is the man beside her has said. xxxxxThen her head raises a touch, ears up, attention keyed in to roughly where the newly-arriving Changeling is likely to appear. All at once, the wolf runs, racing through underbrush to arrive, quite suddenly, in Rosalind's path, whining and barking and racing just as quickly back towards the ring.


xxxxxDutch takes the mushroom and crushes it in his palm, throwing the mess fo it to the side as he stands. "Fuck me..." but he pauses, catching a scent in the air as he hears someone else approaching, watching Nina dart off in that direction. When she gets back he looks from her to the new woman, he sniffs the air. He smiles at Nina, "Friend of yours." more statement than question. He looks to Rosalind, "I recognize your smell. You've spent time with her." he says, motioning to the wolf. He smiles to her, but then turns back to the circle and takes a step across it, looking to move in to where he saw Grimm disappear.


Gwydion nods a bit towards Rebel, "I know. But today's not going to be that day. I much prefer when you die of old age." He looks through the circle towards Grimm watching for now, "If I need to go in there to help that man I need to know that you're staying outside of the circle and out of danger. I can't go full out if I'm having to try and keep you safe as well."


xxxxxSo far, so good, as far as Dutch's view of Things Where Grimm Went In are concerned. None of the lovely people attempting to offer them food and drink attempt to harm him, and there aren't any fighty fighty sounds from beyond the concealing shrubberies.


xxxxxSmiling at Dutch after running after Nina-- and running, one would say, because wolves are not known for their warning shots-- the rest of the way intot he clearing. And thank god, for once, the dizzy woman knows what she's doing. Rosalind watches Grimm first.


xxxxxNina gives a faint whuff of acknowledgment when Dutch poses his question, tail wagging a couple times as if in the affirmative, head turning to glance back towards Rosalind. She returns to the other Uratha's side not long after, but rather than return to same growling as before, her body contorts-- grows, more like, accompanied by a chorus of popping tendons and ligaments, and the awful grind of bone and muscle, resulting in a dire wolf standing a good four feet at the shoulder. xxxxxNo more fucking around, apparently, those wicked teeth and claws ready to be put to use if need be, regardless of how innocuous the celebrants appear.


xxxxxDutch has just stepped over the little ring, standing before the celebrants offering food and drink. He does pause though as Rosalind speaks, "No idea yet. Some guy that was talking to birds heard some other guy named Lily is in there and seemed pissed, headed in." He points a thumb over his shoulder to Rebel, "She is like brainwashed or something into trying to join this Lily guy..." then to Gwydion, "And he's trying to keep her from doing it. I agree by the way." he says to the other man. "This mother fucker set up shop too close for comfort though, so I'm heading in to see what the fuck is going on." He sees Nina change, and there is a slight look of discomfort on his face as he casts a glance back to Rebel, he shrugs it off though, knowing that the Lunacy will do it's job if she is Herd. "Friend of Nina's is a friend of mine if you wanna come with."


xxxxx"What is a fairy godmother to do," Rosalind says, glancing towards the sound of muuuuuuuusic. "Hey, guys, let's say we save Little Red Riding Hood and put an end to grandma. " She follows Dutch into the circle, willingly and knowingly stepping over that line. "I got two big bad wolves and a grandma what needs cutting," she says darkly, her jaw so tight her teeth might crack.


Something about Lily's words set the Summer off. What was once a twitching of the eye quickly turned into he letting out a scream in anger. That scream soon turns into a booming roar as he drops down on all fours. He may have looked mostly human as Dutch was watching, but as quickly that striped monster of the jungle is facing down Lily.

The striped orange and black fur shifts into something much more fantastical as goes green as flowers and vinces burst over his skin. It only gets stranger when he grows to be as big as a pickup truck, and lets out another roar as he makes to leap at Lily.


xxxxxThe sight of Nina becoming one bone-crackly big wolf seems to fascinate some of the Fae's servants and appall others, though they are well trained, and quickly master their expressions back into polite pleasantness.

xxxxxThe sound of a man, then cat, roaring within the faerie circle prompts alarm, and...yeah, the group takes one look at the strangers, then hastily steps aside to make it very clear they have nooooo intention of standing in their way. The scary wolves are welcome to go riiiight ahead through the prickly shrubberies.


xxxxxDutch is ready to walk up to the shrubbery and head in all calm like. Then there is a scream... and a roar. There is a moment where he is dead still, then a rippling in the air around him, like summer heat off blacktop, blurs his lines, and where Nina was all pops and cracks, Dutch is more seasoned, and with the sound of cloth shredding his pants and shirt are in tatters falling to the floor, and where once stood a burly lumberjack mother fucker there is now a wolf that is slightly larger than Nina, russet fur and bulging muscles abounding. The servants that step aside aren't given another thought, and in a gutteral, odd sounding voice the large wolf speaks, <<Keep your woman safe.>> in the First Tongue before barreling off into the plant ring leading to the sound of the roar.


"Isn't it better I die young, Dion? Then people don't assume you have weird complexes." Against him she leans more, "Besides, I don't believe I would be in any danger. Besides, do you really believe I would ever let you go into something alone anymore than you would me?" the fuss in the ring draws the attention of Rebel of Rebel then concern crosses her face, "I'm going to go help the nice gentleman thst has been always trying to do good things for me." She absolutely means Lily. Se's time and time again indicated she doesn't think he is bad.


xxxxxNina seems to trust Rosalind, if nothing else, and only seeing her cross does the big wolf cross, in turn, snapping her teeth at those servants especially that looked appalled, black lips pulled back in a toothy, almost human grin. It changes to something more animalistic as she turns to fix Gwydion with a look, a glance shot towards Rebel before looking back at the man again. xxxxxThere's no need to guess what's being said. They *both* know Rebel is the desired target. xxxxxWith that done, she turns, favoring the appalled among the entourage with another sharp growl before trotting to catch up with Rosalind, a low grunt of acknowledgment offered to Dutch as he lopes off.


xxxxxThe guards are Changelings and hobs alike, and none of them seem very keen on letting their Fae be attacked, but curiously, not a one of them moves to attack Grimm. Point in fact, not a single person at the entire party moves to stop the tiger in the green with any form of violence, though a few of the dancers do seem concerned, and hesitate a trifle before hastily resuming their duties. Should others enter in, their response will be the same: nonviolence, nonaggression, and confused upset that others are breaking the peace.


xxxxxThe illusion of humanity breaks when the tiger manages to shred part of the Fae's arm with his teeth, the true nature of the faerie ring's inhabitants revealed. Still lovely, for the most part, and some are almost human...buuuuut most would only qualify as 'humanOID' at this point, bodies resembling vines and blossoms and beauty made flesh.

xxxxxThe Fae? Take a person, then turn it into living vines, then let Escher get his hands on it, then try to pretend it's still a person, somehow, with an allure that is as maddening as it is magnetic, beauty and pain, brain-meltingly good. And bad. But so, soooo good. His blood is a sluggish sap, sweet and alien, and as queerly alluring as he is. Before the tiger can attack again, however, those present with spidey-senses can sense another power being activated. Further physical attacks will simply pass through him.

xxxxxFrowning toward Grimm, expression as grave as this nightmare's face can be, Lily, who does not look like a lily, tells the tiger that, "You have broken my hospitality. I must ask you to leave."

xxxxxAs before, not a single person in the entire faerie ring offers a whit of violence to anyone, and they still seem shocked by the current turn of events.


xxxxxStepping back into a deep curtsey to Lily, Rosalind rises to her feet. Even while Grimm is physically terrifying at this moment, she keeps her gaze set on the prize.

xxxxxThe Enchantress smiles. "Well met by moonlight, Lily. I would prefer to use a more suitable honorific, but you will understand I was not provided with one.

xxxxx"Thank you for allowing us, your honored guests, your hospitality for the short duration of our stay. Will you--"

xxxxxThe pause is there if you know Rosalind, and doubly so for Nina. There's a rolodex and several mindmaps whipping itself into a tizzy. Parley? No, the True Fae don't ever parley, or at least, not to good ends.

xxxxx"-- honor me with a discussion over this wayward child?" She asks, nodding to Rebel. "Your motives are your own, and I respect that. But we have arrived at an impass, it would seem, regarding this girl and her future."

xxxxxClear tones. Bright eyes. Spring itself swirls around the tall Enchantress, the magnolia blooms forming jewelry about her person. And a smile that serenely depicts a different peace, the certainty of one who has lived hardcore by the principles of Spring.


xxxxxDutch is through the thicket with Rosalind and Nina, and there is a growl rumbling in his throat. Fanciful creatures are not something new to the Ithaeur, but once through the thorned bushes his sight of the Hisil faded, and he knows these are something completely new. Smells, sights, the feel of it all is off, and the large Dire Wolf does not look pleased. Eyes dart to what used to be Grimm, the large tiger of plants and the form of what must be Lily. His hackles raise at the power being activated, but as Rosalind begins to talk he remains still, by her side with Nina, the woman looking very different than she had before, but also now flanked by two very large wolves, with nothing fancy like leaves or shit to make them look like anything other than the nightmare to early man that they are.


It's not often that the little Rebel is not content with waiting for Gwydion to do his thing and he is starting too. She seems to know exactly what he's doing because she does watch, unmoving. However, the more intense things sound in the ring the more concerned the Reborn gets. Someone /she/ thinks is nice is in trouble by people that make her uncomfortable. She'll probably have hell to pay for she scampers on off and enters the area where all the dancers and everyone else is. From Gwydion there is a bit of what sounds like a curse and he's following after Rebel. He is likely use to certain thins from her after their centuries together. Concern and super impulse for people she thinks needs help, especially people she knows and believes she likes, being one of the things he knows well from the person who doesn't exactly live up to the name she was given.


xxxxxIt's probably a good thing that shock doesn't register on a wolf's face nearly as much as it might a person's, as the intimidation factor would go straight out the window. Still, there's a widening of those amber eyes, a curl of the brown wolf's lip to show teeth, ears pinned back and hackles bristled from the base of her skull to the base of her tail in an expression that most laymen would understand as aggression. Moreso, with that massive head slung low and that nigh-constant growl still rumbling in her chest. xxxxxRosalind and Dutch both will, however, see it for what it is. An anxious energy that is forcibly bitten back through teeth that should give her all the confidence she needs, but-- well. Seeing as there is a literal tiger flower looking to tear apart their supposed target-- xxxxxThen there's the woman alongside her, getting a lengthy, and rather astonished once-over. But even as the study settles on Rosalind's face, Nina's expression - such as it is - clears-- and like Dutch, she stands sentinel alongside the Enchantress, watching Lily intently.


The giant, bestial thing that is Grimm roars back, "I will leave when you are dead!" Then he lunges at Lily, but gargantuan beast just flies right through the incorporeal fae. He lets out another roar, louder than the last and making his frustration much more plainly known. His mantle flares with a rise of heat around him and fire pooling around his feet.


xxxxxAs if expecting his request to Grimm to receive immediate compliance, more fool he, Lily turns his awareness toward Rosalind, a weight of alien regard settling on the woman. His response is late. Not by a brief enough interval to be mistaken for hesitation, no, this is just plain late, mind following other paths than these.

xxxxxAs before, his voice is impossible to ignore, dragging attention toward it like a magnet to a lodestone. "She is adult. Her choices are her own. Have I not offered her kindness? Have I not offered her power? She may speak for herself. My stables are full. She will not be fae."

xxxxxIt's at about this point that a TRUCK SIZED TIGER leaps right on through him. The Fae frowns in thought, then belatedly looks toward Grimm. "I die at dawn, to be reborn a century hence. Your impatience does you ill. My companions will assist you, should you require blood."

xxxxxHis 'companions' don't look quite as sanguine about the offer, but none of them move, even though several turn several different shades of OH SHIT pale.


xxxxxVisibly moved by the adjacent force of a truck sized tiger stealing her attention, Rosalind is /dying/ for a cigarette. Her own cigarettes, of course, and her hand finds her silver valise, wherein five perfect cigarillos lay rolled in a variety of colors. Affixing the end of a sky-blue cigarette to her holder, which in this light one can see looks much more like the traditional slim magic wand of yore, she needn't pretend to light up here. Instead, she draws a good, deep breath, elegantly poised so two upright fingers grace the spread of Vogue while its front cover model exhales smoke that looks like clouds against a spring sky.

xxxxx"I mean, to be fair, I did not even get to offer you the honor of a dance with me," Rosalind says, ashing openly on the ground. "You'll return, sure. And you'll be back, fine. Never growing, never learning, never /changing/. You'll still be here and so will the tombstones in the cemetery. Off with you."


As Lily departs he lets out another roar, and growls, "I will do everything in my power to make sure I am here for you, and do everything I can to ensure it will be your last sunrise." He doesn't leave his shape just yet, no. Grimm instead turns to Lily's guard with nothing short of murder in his eyes, but with his quarry now gone he starts to make his exit for the gate. They're not his prey, for now at least.


xxxxxPulling out her canvas bag, Rosalind reaches deep inside and finds four rusty nails that WILL give you tetanus from proximity. "Lily?" She says. "I really oathe lilies of the valley. Does someone have a hammer?" She asks glancing about. "These were to be dreamspikes for Rebel, but I hate to see a purchase wasted."


xxxxxAh, there's that fury again. Though the huge brown wolf that is Nina does not yet move to attack, Lily's words are enough to ignite something dark and unyielding, her lips peeling back to show those teeth again. The snarl is deep, a thunderous sound that fades only with the sound of Rosalind's voice alongside her. Then, as if to add punctuation to the Enchantress's words, those growls come again, and while she doesn't advance a step - she saw what happened with Grimm's attack, there's no need to repeat it - the desire is most certainly present.


At hearing her name associated wit spikes intended for her has Rebel literally tucking behind Gwydion. What mortal wouldn't be even more terrified of someone who just said spikes were intended for her? Againsst the back of Gwydion Rebel presses. Around him she peers, towards Lily her other 'safe' person. The REborn isn't saying anything now, she is just clinging to Gwydion and peering at Lily.


xxxxxFor the record, none too few of Lily's 'companions' do give Nina and Grimm grateful looks, buuuut none of them move from their assigned positions, and if Rosalind does advance upon their Fae with murderous tetanus-donor intent, they will restrain her if necessary.

xxxxxFor all the growling...uhhh...those musicians seem to have decided that they will just play VERY VERY LOUDLY and hope it covers up the noise. The dancers aren't dancing quite as perfectly, but when their Fae glances their way, they do their best to shape up and get it right.

xxxxxAs before, neither the guest of honour nor the celebrants seem inclined toward hostility unless/until they are attacked, and if that doesn't happen... Happy Deathday, Lily!


Rosalind will just suggest to Nina and Dutch that they leave, now, because there is nothing like staying too long at a party when that party is a True Fae Deathday. "Happy Deathday!"


xxxxxThe next morning, as promised, the hilltop is empty and untrammeled, though the faerie ring remains, safely closed to mortal passage, ready to be used a long, long time away.