Lily in the Sky, with Dragons
Log Info
- Title: Lily in the Sky, with Dragons
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Jinks, Faranmidan
- Place: The streets of Alexandria, the wilds outside, her mind
- Time: Monday, October 04, 2021, 2:21 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia leaves her cihuaa, takes her youngling from the Temple of Daeus and hires a carriage to drive her around and around Alexandria. All night. Through many hours the next day. She spots Jinks and invite him into the carriage. He joins and she is having such a dissociative episode the gnome believes it is some joke at his expense. Lily's fear indicates otherwise. Cryo snaps back to reality, surprised Jinks is present, and complains about her relationship before deciding she shouldn't then tells him why she needs him is simple. Her connection to the Hymn and magic is broken, shocks and high emotion seem to have manifested things for her before, and she wants to dance, lost in the sounds, and needs some bards to help out. He agrees to find whom he can. Hours later, outside Alexandria, the golem band <band name here>, has convened to help. 733 VU complains there is no audience. Cryo reminds there is always Ceinara, and Lily, Faranmidahn, her familiar and mount, her mother, and the carriage driver. She instructs the band and Faranmidahn of her plan, and which music to play, as Faran helps her out of her clothing. Curtain, cue the lights, the band plays and Cryo dances, at first simply putting her dragon form to the test. Something she really hasn't been able to do while invalid. She flies, attempts to cast, and generally subsumes to the sound while Lily, Serrendine and Faran clap along. Jinks arrives, and adds to the spells that Faranmidahn has been casting. Harmless ones at first, but building to a fireball that silhouettes Cryo on an upwards swoop, timed with a rising crescendo of music. She transforms! She's mastered manifesting her wings as well. As she is playing with this, Faranmidahn and Serrendine call her attention to another physical ability she's invoking: her ability to incubate eggs. Cryo is visibly gravid.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 7'2" 391 Lb Dragon Female A gorgeous, little white dragon with glacial higlights. Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. Faranmidahn 3'3" 35 Lb Halfling Female Albino Lucht woman. Knight of Spiders. So, SO Fluffy. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Little Fang 'Lily' Kobold Female A pinkscale youngling wearing a skeletonized broach. Serrendine Waywalker Halfling Female A elderly Lucht Siuil, Faranmidahn's mother. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Pre Show
That was upsetting.
Embarassing. Awkward too. Cryo ran from her room with the words of the Silverguard and the bluescale echoing in her earfins. She was a terrible cihuaa, she was a threat to innocents in Alexandria. She was selfish and only cared for herself. Words that must be true, or why would they say them even after she asked them to stop.
The running was the awkward part, scampering on all fours like an animal. In a dress, which she had to hike up so it wouldn't trip her hind legs, by raising her tail and hooking it with her wingtips out of her way. If she wasn't an ass and an asshole there was still a good view of hers until she reached the door of the side building and could stand.
Walking bipedally was not impossible. Uncomfortable, as her back feet bore twice as much weight as they were used to. Ungainly, as she moved her forelimbs in a pretense of arms. She is an acrobat, who can walk a tightrope, the wide sidewalks and streets of the Temple of Daeus Complex are easy in comparison. Take it slow, nod pleasantly.
She makes it to the kitchens, where her youngling is. Little Fang 'Lily', looks up from a bowl of soup and flicks through several emotions in quick succession. Surprise, joy, concern, worry, fear. She's at Cryosanthia's side in an instant. "Ssassa?"
"We leave." The whitescale hisses perfunctorily, leading them both out. Another slow progression across the complex follows, to the Temple's steps. An acolyte hires a carriage. It is explained to the driver, several times, no this is not a small white dragon in a dress. This is an eldery Sith'Makari with arthritis. She is not a danger. She takes her great grandaughter to see Alexandria. She is not a dragon, she's perfectly civilized and polite. Everything is fine. Just fine.
She is helped into the carriage. She is a small white dragon in a dress. She takes up a remarkable amount of space with her wings inside. She is a danger, so says her mate and confessor. Lily sits and stares, uncomprehendingly, with her trap-maker's mind putting all sorts of fragmentary details together.
Drive driver, drive. Show me Alexandria. Start at the West gates, to the Northern, then up the mountain to Airstation Alexandria. Down to Port Alexandria. Circle back through the warehouses to the colosseum. Start over, same route, different streets. Again. Avoid the Noble district, they've had too many dragons lately. They might be jumpy. I'm not a dragon. Avoid Goblintown. The carriage might get stuck, the streets are small, and busy. I don't want to get out. I don't want anyone looking at me. Too long.
They ride all night. They ride through the day. At some point the drivers change, the passengers relieve themselves. They roll again. Don't stop. I don't want to be found. Keep moving. Moving. Moving forward.
"I need a bard." The whitesale says, after long hours of silence and staring out a window. Where to find bards? Why, in the whorehouses and alehouses, the gambling halls, the beds of noble ladies and lords. The pockets of the syndicate and the benches of their guilds. On wanted posters, at the lips of lovers, the rumps of superiors with smoke pipes, ready to blow upwards. On the ends of cuckolds' fists and at the mercy of jealous lovers.
And, occasionally, on stage or performing in the theater district. So one is sought, any one, that might be found without leaving the ride. And one is found.
"Hey! You!" Cryosanthia calls, spotting Jinks, "I need you. Get in."
Jinks turns, still holding up the coin of foreign mint between thumb and forefinger he'd been inspecting. The gobber, 'nar, and mul turn as well, the unlikely quartet likely engaged in some nefarious activity. The gnome is in a state of undress that hints as a long night; an open coat, untucked shirt, and a sagging tail of hair that's surrendered many stray strands to sway lazily about his face. The other three are in a similar state but in dress that began the evening darker, more worn, and rough-and-tumble. Brigands, perhaps. They take a step back toward an alleyway in reflex. The gnome narrows his onyx-black eyes at the conveyance, quite suddenly sober.
At some point the coin vanished from his hand, seemingly into thin air. Jinks tosses a small, jingling pouch to the gobber, mutters something in the yapping-grunt of Goblintalk, and pads away from his shady dealings. It takes the driver stepping down and producing a box-step before the gnome can ascend into the carriage. He smells stale; smoke, souring liquor, and sweat. He hasn't said anything. His eyes are still narrowed. Perhaps he's trying to make sense of the situation.
"I'll pay." Cryo says the magic words. Gold coins are tumbled Jinks' way. Her voice is devoid, there are words but little emotion. She occupies the back half of the carriage, sitting with her hips tilted to accommodate her tail, which coils down into the floor well and around and back up where she holds the tip between both her talons. One wing is folded into the corner she leans towards. The other pressed partly against the roof. Her clothing, some refashioned joton shirt and skirt, is loose and does not disguise her well up close. The conveyance stinks like a box of snakes that hasn't been opened in days.
The whitescale barely seems to be paying the man attention. She reaches and sweeps him into the seat beside her. Gently, though it easily could have been very rough. Her 'hand' is a draconic talon, with solid fingers and long claws. She tucks Jinks between a wing and wall. Her muscular thigh is right beside him, an ominous mass of scales hidden under thick cotton.
The opposite seat would have made more sense. Instead Lily sits and blinks at Jinks. These reptilians are always hard to read, thick scales, thin flesh on their skulls, little expressiveness, eyes that barely move and jaws that look always ready to snap, even moreso when they smile. Still, there are cues. Lily's rapid glances between Jinks and Cryo, her hurried breathing, indicate her confusion, worry. She stares directly at Jinks.
"Drive Driver, Drive." Cryo orders, staring as the city rolls by again.
The gnome looks somewhat relieved, at least, to see the kobold. That can of trouble was kicked down the road and has started an avalanche but these days you settle for what victories no matter how small. He puts his hands to the bench and scoots as well as he can, seeking out some small modicum of personal space.
"You've quit the temple, then." Observes the gnome, smoothing most of the nervousness out of his voice. It still sounds far from the light, idle conversation he intended it to be. "On your way to... the Tarrace?"
"Somewhere. Maybe there. I don't know." Cryosanthia answers, again sounding empty. This is followed by silence, the sounds of the wheels on cobbles, the squeak of springs. The carriage is heading the wrong way for the Tarrace.
The whitescale sits, fixated on the window. Normally there is some pantomime, some effort of liveliness. Now she simply sits in the mass of herself. Her breathing is loud and regular, her company that of a monster and even though she has demonstrated great clarity of thought and erudition, now the raw side of her heritage shows itself fully.
"Ssassa and blue fights." Lily hisses, leaning towards jinks. Everything in her posture and voice screams she's frightened by this unknown.
"What should I do? Present him with his mother's head?"
"Yes." Cryosanthia feels the wind across her scales. She clings to the neck of the dragon beneath, as Lily does to her, though far smaller in proportion for this dragon is much larger. Her great wings sweep, the tundra passing beneath them, showing patches of thaw on the cracked permafrost.
"Kill her. Behead her. Show your mate proof you are stronger than his nest-mother. Demand he mate you or his line will be lost. He will have no more siblings. No other mates, you will chase those off." Her voice is like Cryo's, but heavier, louder, deeper. Like a thunderstorm.
Cryosanthia imagines herself, Nonantzine's head held to her chest, blood dripping down her front, legs and tail spread in invitation. "I don't think I can do that."
"Of course not," her... ancestor? replies, "You're soft. Weak."
Lily and Jinks hear both sides of the conversation, with the whitescale speaking both, Cryo as herself and the other... in another's. The pinkscale stares at Jinks, there's only one thing she can say, "Helpss."
"... Llyranesi tragedies aside, there are more generally-accepted methods of proving one's devotion than matricide. Though, not many quite as dramatic." The gnome shifts with a shiver, his skin crawling and the little hairs of his neck standing. He can feel the shadow of the dragon passing over him outside of the kobold camp. A small burst of nervous energy and he's up, hopping, turning, and sitting opposite Cryosanthia. His hands search the inside of his coat while his lungs find precious room to expand and accept the air he couldn't find on the other side of the carriage.
Jinks frowns at Lily, then at the whitescale. "... establishing strength through fear," he takes a steadying drink from the flask he's finally managed to produce. A moment to put his thoughts in a row. "There are kinder ways to express devotion."
"Ssassa! I neeed you. Ssasaa. I neeed you!" Lily moves as Jinks changes seats, jumping onto a coil of Cryo's tail, pushing her small claw-hands against her immovable knee. She doesn't understand most of the gnome's words, but intuits the effort. Get Ssassa to respond to them. "Ssassa!" She cries, followed by a high pitched whistle-squeak, a call of a youngling for her mother.
Who is right there, and not there.
Until she is. Cryo blinks and focuses, "Oh hello Jinks, when did you get here? I prefer the comedies myself. 'A funny thing happened on the way to forum' is a classic. Smart slaves, stupid owners, cross-dressing and slapstick. Tragedies are oft too melodramatic."
"It's okay Lily, Ssassa is here. You are here." Her large hand strokes the pinkscale gently.
"You weren't, though." Jinks ventures after a silent moment of confusion. He's dubious about the whole situation, thinking it's some kind of joke at his expense. But then Lily's distress seems entirely genuine. He curls one hand into a tight fist. Takes another deep breath. "You called me into the carriage musing about murder and weakness. The kobold says you and the blue-one are... at odds."
"Zeke believes I think him weak. I don't. I approach, he cowers, I give space, time, he says I do not care. Explanations are asked for, I give them, they are proof of my heartlessness. I explain further with many words, only a few are heard, taken and twisted into accusations. To stay is to weather more pointless abuse, to withdraw, cowardice." Cryo says obliquely, "This one does not wish to speak about Zeke."
Even though she has.
"This one does not wish to murder Aya," Even though she hasn't.
Lily squeals, a high pitched panic noise, squeezing Cryo's knee. "Nooo. Noo Ssassa. Runss from Ay-ayss. Runss from Ay-ayas." She pleads with whimpers.
"Yes Lily, run from Aya. The bad man is close behind her and Tia Aya is protecting you, but you have to run."
The little pinkscale's wail of distress continues, as does Cryo's automatic consoling.
Jinks opens his mouth to speak but closes it and looks at the floor of the carriage, the space between the benches. He tilts his head, thinking, and taps the inside of a ring against the tin of his flask. The gnome shifts and sits forward, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sighs. "I don't know you well enough to comment beyond to observe..." he sighs and closes his eyes. "You're troubled. You're trying to cope with something-- or somethings-- that happened to you and it's making you act differently." The gnome looks at Lily, his own feelings of guilt difficult to mask.
"After what happened to me in the forest, you thought I wanted to hurt Lily. I didn't. I was terrified of her and repulsed with myself." The gnome looks back to Cryosanthia, genuinely apologetic. "When something unseats us we struggle to convey our true intentions."
"I know this... situation isn't your fault. Relationships are difficult when there isn't a Duke of Hell manipulating us to infighting."
"I can't talk about it, I can't talk about it." Cryo repeats, facing Jinks, sapphire eyes fixed on him, so cold and gem-like, with cat-like slit pupils that have opened as wide as a kitten's in the dark.
Can't talk about Little Fang dying, being taken by that Duke, in front of her when she remembers non of it. About Aya's sacrifice to save her and Cryo's nest, which doomed her soul. About losing that nest. About losing her first foundling, and her mate, then leaving him, abandoning all faith in her confessor, just days after telling him they must not be split apart.
A loud warbling cry rises from the large lizard's throat, a wail of distress, emotion and loneliness. A call for her younglings, who are here, her mate, who isn't, and for help which seems far away. Lily and Jinks are gathered in a sudden embrace, and she holds both protectively. Carefully, such power shuddering with collapsed control. Sith'makar may not shed tears, but the gnome has heard enough female sobbing to recognize the People's version. Her breaths come in gasps, and pinkscale and performer are pressed together against white scales.
The gnome is a knot of tension, pushing back against the embrace and grimacing in spite of the protection it intends. His own memories coloring this exchange in an entirely different light. After a moment's panic he manages to calm enough to keep from clawing and straining to get away even if he does choke at the different, animal smell.
"It really isn't your fault, Cryosanthia. I... I'm very sorry." Jinks finally manages to whisper.
She hears, perhaps. She moans, more. Nuzzles at Jinks' head, snuffling through his hair, her touch fearsome in foreign maternalness. A long exhale of breath follows, almost too cool to be comfortable, but the whitescale's breathing becomes steady.
"Faran, your hair stinks." Cryo says, releasing Jinks and blinking in surprise. So that is why Faran was more convincing as a substitute this time. Carefully she moves Lily to her lap and lifts Jinks over to the other side of the carriage where her scents do not clog the air. "Apologies Jinks, this one thought you were Faran."
Both her arms close around Lily, her head lowering over her. The pinkscale presses against her Ssassa, making small trilling noises, reminding of her presence, grateful for momma. "She's so vulnerable Jinks. It's legal to kill Kobolds in Alexandria, for any reason. I'm always worried. She's safe with me, but I never know if in a moment's inattention, urchins will throw her against a wall for laughs like they do stray cats. It's ok Lily, Ssassa is here."
And there in Cryo's eyes, her naked fear for what she almost lost. Again. Prevented, by a friend she's been ordered to slay. "Thanks Jinks." She accepts the apology without knowing what it's really for. "I'm glad you understand. I can't say a lot of things, because..." She nuzzles Lily, who has heard too much of things that shouldn't be spoken about.
But there is one thing. She can talk about her epiphany. "I've lost my connection Jinks, to the Hymn, to the leylines of mana. I need help getting it back. I need to dance, and I need someone who can perform music and magic, and cast the spells I'm trying to cast and hit me with them. I need space. I thought the Tarrace stage would be big enough, but I don't know. I need to stretch my wings."
A brief press of them against the inside of the carriage shows how tight and small she feels, "I need space, to just cut loose. I tried to dance once to re-align multiple threads, and it didn't work, but it'll work for this. Can you help me?"
"I need to feel happy."
"If you've no better option." Jinks acquiesces after another moment's hesitation. "I'm still struggling to find the fullness of the Song I once sang... but it isn't gone entirely." He hums, sweet and melancholy as he pushes his hands through the air and dislodges twinkling pink essence like motes of dust in a shaft of sunlight.
"If I can help you with that I will."
"Thank you," Cryosanthia says, "whatever you can get set up, please do. We'll continue riding around. Find the carriage when you're ready."
Lily hops over near Jinks, to catch some of the glittering pink motes.
"Driver! Stop, we're letting the man off. Then Resume, smaller route, Tarrace and the Theatre district."
The carriage slows. One disembarks. It speeds up. Two remain.
At least two. Sometimes there are more. Alexandria rolls by.
The Performance
Outside Alexandria
A few hours have passed, allowing Jinks to set things up. They moved swiftly for Cryo and Lily, there was no where to go and something different to see out the window for every minute. Areas of Alexandria they had never encountered were rolled through.
Except the Noble Quarter, of course, and Goblintown.
Finally the garrulous gnome catches the carriage and tells the whitescale he's managed to set up 'something' outside of Alexandria. A safe bet for a city that's still twitchy from demonic and draconic attacks. He's managed to locate her golem band, or former band, depending on how one views things. The golems operate more on binary than fuzzy logic, however with more than one of them voting her in, not out, her quasi state collapses to 'in'.
The carriage rolls up to an open field that has... nothing. The three golems standing there, waiting. They can provide the music.
An invitation was sent to Sir Faranmidahn, she can provide some of the magic. Jinks isn't as well connected as he used to be, to the hymn, to mana, or even to the guild.
733 Vocalizer Unit vodes, "There is no audience?"
In due course, after some searching, there comes a distant rider, a mostly black dot in the distance. It closes, trailing violet and ivory, as well as some travel dust for the flurry of what appears to be it's legs.
It, of course, is the brave steed, Torrent, moving at a good gallop toward the works about the carriage. Astride him is the hapless Purple Rose, Faranmidahn, and her dame, which likely means that tucked in someplace safe for the trip, is little Zephyr.
An audience of three... for whatever show is about to begin.
Faran draws rein, bringing the arachnid to a slow walk toward the setup, holding her other hand hi with a, "Hail, the camp!"
"Hail Sir Faranmidahn!" Cryo sticks her head out of the carriage window and gazes in her direction. There's an equally enthusiastic, if quieter, hail from inside, "Hisss Faransss," as Lily joins in.
Audience of four.
"What are you talking about Seven Three Three? There's always Ceinara!"
Five.
"And the Carriage driver! Plus the horses, do the horses count?"
Of course. Eight.
"Acknowledged. What is the plan Sith'Machine? Why have you altered your biological base configuration?" 733 gets to the point.
Lily pops out of the other carriage door and runs towards Torrent, in a semi-circle path of course. Avoid the front.
Faranmidahn knocks her belly-down signal to the giant spider, who obliges, allowing the ladies to slip out of the saddle to the ground.
Nine.
Serrendine, knowing intellectually that things are well, nonetheless quickly loses her reserve on sight of her assistant and friend, and the little lady who's been giving them all lessons in motherhood. Lily is scooped up by the Dame Waywalker kissed and hugs with a tender vigor.
The Knight Walker embraces them both, kissing the pink headscales, with a gentle, "Hello, sweetie!" before a soft voiceless rumble sounds; preamble for the white fuzzy form of Zephyr to scurry along the mammalian limbs onto the reptilian child.
"She's very happy to see you, sweetheart." the sorceress explains, "Play nice, girls." before she steps over to see how Cryosanthia is doing.
Mother will likely be along shortly, but Faran's had more time to get used to their return, and allows the elder Lucht to catch up in her stages.
To that end, she steps in to embrace her sister, "Hello, Cryo, how are you feeling...?" before she looks up to the War Golem with a, "Ah, hello!"
"Greetings unit designate Sir Faranmidahn. I am Seven Three Three Vocalizing Unit. This is Panflute. That is String-Box. We are less-than caret Band Name Here greater-than caret."
Panflute makes a rising whistling noise. Stringbox extends a few armatures and duplicates vocal strings surprisingly well with what seems to be a skeletonized violin, "Heeelllooo."
Lily meanwhile carefully transfers Zephyr up to her horn. The empty one, that does not have a dancing skeleton, then runs through the grass with her tail bobbing to hug Serrendine tightly. She tells the older woman, "Ssassa iss ssad."
Cryo hugs and hold onto Faranmidahn. The inside of her carriage smells terrible. The little Lucht can recognize the whitescale's distress scents and they have permeated the whole thing. She's also cramped, her wings taking up a lot of space. "There... are worse things again. This one needs to dance, to try and feel happy. Can you cast Dancing Lights, Ghost Sound, Prestidigitations?"
She calls to the golems, "I need to get out of my clothes, then, we'll start with 'Ignition', then something faster. It has to be happy."
Faranmidahn smiles and nods up toward the Golem, "It's nice to meet you!" she returns, then nods to Panflute with a, "And you, " and Stringbox, "And you. I hope you're all doing well."
Serrendine kisses Lily some more, then looks to the palescale Sith. There's something familiar in her expression, but she nods, smiling down to the child, "We'll help Ssassa feel better, honey."
The Knight sighs and kisses her sister's scales as she's picked up much like Lily was, and she starts scratch at the tough scales as she has before, though she replies, "I.... don't have any of those... I have light, but not dancing light..."
"We are operating within parameters. Acknowledged Sith'Machine. Indicate commencement initiative." 733 vodes. The other two golems respond, Panflute with a whistle, and Stringbox another synthesized voice, "thaaank yoooou."
Lily leans her head against Serrendine, "Not ssleeepsss all nightss. Not tiredss!"
Cryo cuddles Faran, making a happy trill at the scratching. "Well, light might work. I felt your detect magic. Maybe hit me with a few weak damage spells while I'm dancing."
"I just... I just..." She gazes off, "I haven't been able to move, for weeks. I need some wind. Mystical wind. If that makes sense."
Faranmidahn blinks, "You want me to attack you?" she asks incredulously, "Well... I have... a couple of weak spells, I guess?"
Her tone becomes dubious as she continues, "I have a little acid spray that is mostly just annoying, and... well, one that makes a rainbow spray. You're very hardy and willful, so I doubt it would effect you...."
Serrendine, meanwhile frowns and nods, "I understand, sweetheart, but... what are these on your horns, dear?"
"A... little bit." Cryo says, shifting awkwardly. "Maybe some protective spells. Nothing that will hurt a lot... but... might feel like I rough sparring session?"
Do not think about the lance.
"Rainbow sounds better than Acid. I kinda feel like I had an acid bath already, but... maybe a bit of that."
"Thisss is Tia Brraess." Lily taps at the dancing skeleton, making it dance and click against her horn as she shakes her head. Her little claws close around the broach. It is a skeletonized lily. The kobold does a little manipulation, and the petals re-arrange as the broach changes shape. "This is Tiass Ay-ayss. Alwyass run fromss Tia Ay-aysss."
She looks up brightly, "Theysss protecting."
"This one will need some help getting out of these clothes. I don't want to ruin them." Cryo lets Faran down, "That might work better if I was outside."
"A deep down clean..." Faran quips weakly, "Well.... hmmmm..."
The little Knight shrugs and gives her sister a little kiss before she wonders, "Do I need to do these at certain times, or...?" there's a look back toward her mother and Cryosanthia's daughter, "I've never been part of a show before..."
Serrendine, in turn, seems curious, but nods affirmingly, "Well, now, I bet they are, dear. I'm glad they're here." She looks to the others, then wonders of the kobold, "Shall we make ourselves comfortable? I think they're going to start, too."
Zephyr, for her part, wanders along the tiny horns, even poking at the ornaments with her forelegs in curiosity as she continues to purr her contentment.
Cryo makes her way out of the carriage, and then crouches down so Faranmidahn can reach all the buttons. "Shirt first, and there are a lot of seams near the wing sleeves. I... um... well, you know what it looks like when I cast, I'll be dancing."
She thinks a moment, "Oh, of course, on the beats!"
"Yasss." Lily agrees, holding onto Serrendine's hand, walking beside her and watching her Ssassa. She makes happy hissing noises, feeling Zephyr climb along.
This is going to get complicated, but, "I'll do my best, sister." Faran affirms.
She takes a moment to look over the garment, her own tailoring practice lending her a bit of insight into how the seams interact around the buttons. Once reasonably sure she has it, her little hands start to work on the garment, "Where did you get this?"
Lily's happy sounds bring a smile to the older Lucht's features, as she wonders, "Have you seen Ssassa perform this show, before...?" "Noooo. Iss ssurprisse." Lily says happily, "Ssassa iss a dragon."
"What? They said she wasn't a dragon." The Driver says suddenly, "I've been carrying a dragon for hours! I could have been eaten at any moment. Yah!" The carriage thunders off.
Six.
"Does the average Alexandrian seem dumber lately?" Cryo sighs, watching the vehicle take off down the road towards the much safer bandit filled woods, then turn onto an over grown side path that leads right into them. It'll be fine.
Turning back to Faranmidahn, the whitescale says, "Oh, Seyardu ordered it from a seamstress. A Jotun, I think, or one that makes clothing for one, and she had the modifications." She shrugs out of her shirt, then holds her forelimbs high to expose her waist, "There's buttons on the skirt. I can't get at them, they're tiny in tiny folds."
She has huge hands.
Faranmidahn sighs sadly, "I'm... afraid to answer that." as the carriage thunders off.
She manages to get the garments unfastened, carefully trying to fold them up as she observes, "That is.... very good needlework, with very complex seam layering... I couldn't do that."
Serrendine nods with a respectful, "Ahhhh, I see, you're right, sweetheart, we can't ruin the surprise, now. You're such a good girl!"
733 VU refocuses its optics on Cryosanthia. "Congratulations Sith'Machine on your chassis and frame upgrade. Your wing configuration option was an excellent choice. The group was wondering what style you would choose after the supports were installed."
Cryo smiles at the golems, as Panflute executes a nice wolf-whistle trombone, followed by Stringbox making a rising note. Presumably approval. She spreads her wings, high and wide, grinning, "I only flew in the Sea of Mana and I've done nothing but bump them on doors since getting back. Oh my scales you won't believe how good it is to open them. That room was so, so small."
Lily claps, squealing, "Ssassa ISSS a dragon!" She is impressed. You can grow up to be a dragon. Her eyes gleam.
"Yes, sweetheart, Ssassa is a beautiful dragon." the Professor notes, gently stroking the little one's headscales as she nods to Cryosanthia, skyclad, and wings spread as if to leap into the air again.
Her daughter, meanwhile, neatly sidesteps the expanding membrane of a wing and gently pats the leg next to her and, presuming she means to take flight, edges back to give her takeoff space, smiling.
Cryo looks over at Serrendine, and smiles, and relaxes. A compliment, that she is beautiful. She shouldn't need it so much... but she does. "Thank you Serrendine."
She drops to all fours, stretches her neck forward, her tail out behind, though keeps it curved low. She's person sized, on the large end of 'person' but no where near horse. She grins at Faranmidahn, "Speaking of dumb. I'm preeeety sure I'm smarter than a dog or pony. Think you could train me as a mount?"
With a chuckle she slinks towards the golems, "Okay, I'll set the beat. Since I don't have a proper drum-kit and couldn't manage it if I do, everyone please clap. Then I'll... dance, and do stuff, and you go with the spells."
"And Seven Three Three, Panflute, Stringbox, I really appreciate the help. Please, please, tap into the hymn as deep as you can. It's got to be magical."
The white dragon looks around, "Ready?"
Faranmidahn blinks and nods, "I can see this continues to be a thing with you!" she chuckles then steps closer, reaching up to gently pat her would be steed on the side, "With the right saddle, I suppose we can make it work."
She nods and brings her hand up into the first of her arcane gestures, but she waits until some cue to cast is given.
Serrendine, for her part replies, "You're welcome, dear." She settles into place and tries to guide Lily into sitting with her, "Alright, dear, Ssassa is ready to put on her show!"
"I thought I only brought it up once? Maybe twice?" Cryo grins, then frowns. There's a deep pit of dark thoughts there. How much is she forgetting, how much is she imagining. Were her...
Focus.
"We'll talk later. Okay." She sways her hips, adding a wiggle and dipping with her legs, letting her tail whip into the ground, after which she reverses it. There's a beat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She adds a second syncopation, faster, with her forepaws.
"Your rhythmic adherence is imprecise, Sith'Machine, you are showing a seventeen/twentieth's accuracy. This is down two twentieths from your last performance." 733 Vocals says.
"Thanks for the feedback. I am still fine tuning this chassis' variance."
"Acknowledged."
With a sharp inhale, Cryo looks at the Luchts, her daughters and the beasts, "Okay. Clap. Three two one! Ignition!"
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Endure Elements. Caster Level: 8 DC: 15
Well, faran can't quite clap if she's casting, so the little sorceress opts to stomp her little foot in the grass in time to the clapping of the others, her fingers starting to flex through their gestures as she murmurs under her breath, "In Hunter's care and Nature's whim, ward the elements from this one's skin." <halfling>
For her part, Serrendine begins to clap in time with the others, looking to Lily, "C'mon dear, let's help Ssassa's show!"
Atop the little horns, Zephyr bobs in her little dance, while Torrent sits there like a stone.
Lily chirps happily and claps. She's not loud. The lucht's hands are better for slapping, and add to the draconic ground pounding. Panflute and Stringbox supply a good wall of noise, all notes on the beats, in wind and string while 733 sings, more specifically reciting a countdown from ten to one, saying Ignition, and repeating.
Its a song Cryo is familiar with, and can warm up too. As the endure elements hits her, there's glow that races across her body. It's not quite the sparkle of her casting. It's a slightly brighter shade of blue, which follows her patterns and highlight scales. "Yes! She gasps. "yes. that's it!" She maintains her beat.
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Color Spray. Caster Level: 8 DC: 15 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls will+4: (3)+9+4: 16
Faranmidahn continues to stomp to the beat, lamenting in the back of her mind that she can't maintain a detection spell while all this is going on. It'd be an absolutely fascination process to see in it's full, but she'l satisfy herself with making her sister happy, albeit under odd circumstances.
She brings her hands together with a new chant, at least one the palescale has never heard before, "Flowing powers, chaos in flight, blooming flowers, of weirding light!" <halfling>
At the end of her incantation, hand thrust bladelike toward Cryosanthia before the fingers splay to the side, a fan of rainbow light washes over the transfigured Sith in(she hopes) harmless magical light.
Cryosanthia hasn't been able to run. Her escape from her room didn't really count. Even in the Sea of Mana, it was hovering, the attacking. There was no seeing what her new body can actually do.
Now, she can. She breaks suddenly from her rhythmic thumping, calling, "Uptempo! Panflute keep the pulse!" She gallops. Simple dashes in a direction, digs in her claws and turns. Dashes another way, then rolls over her shoulder and pops up again facing the opposite direction.
All on beat, like a playful kitten. A kitten the size of a leopard and covered with scales, plus wings, but still, crouching, swiping, tail whipping. "Hah!"
Faranmidahn sighs silently in relief that the spell seemed to act as she intended, rather than has the spell generally goes, not realizing how close a thing that was in the grand scheme.
A Cryosanthia happycats all over the place, the Lucht pivots between stomps and her hands come together in another new configuration, "Between candle and open sky, abate the darkness from seeking eyes!" ending the incantation with a motion much like blowing a feather from one's palm. <hanfling>
The little white dragon is hit by the dazzling spray of colours and it almost stops her in her tracks. For a second her head glows, looking full of cracks, and then the energy dissipates.
The golem band switching to another song, one with a lot of 'rah, rah' in it, and a strong dancing beat.
Cryosanthia moves with this music, like its water and she's under the waves. Her wings spread and rippling, trailing as she dashes like fabric sails. Her tumbling now includes leaps, gliding, pin-point turns.
Actually, no, that didn't work. She's an absurdly clumsy flier, but the roll when she hit the ground was nice.
GAME: Faranmidahn attempts to cast Light but fails due to ASF. GAME: Faranmidahn casts Light. Caster Level: 8 DC: 14
The Spider Knight falters slightly at the odd reaction to the color spray, while her little globe of light hovers near the white dragonling.
Her mother, a slightly greying, earthy hued Lucht Siuil woman is sitting and clapping with little Lily beside her, even as a white fuzzy spider dances on one of the kobold's horns. Meanwhile, a large black spider in barding and riding tack is sitting there watching the show without batting an eye.
With Cryo's greater haste, she brings her hands back into the previous pattern, "Flowing powers, chaos in flight, blooming flowers, of weirding light!" <halfing>
Cryo glows. Unusually it isn't her in her entirety. Instead it sinks into her highlight scales where they all illume with an eerie blue ionization. She looks like a giant puzzle, one that could fall to pieces at any moment.
Lily oooos, awes, and keeps clapping, though the sudden new aspect of her Ssassa causes a whine of worry, small 'nnnhs' of anxiousness. She's not breaking to pieces, is she?
No. "I need a crescendo!" Cryo calls out, "Something I can roar too."
And she flaps her wings, hard. She is several hundred pounds of lizard, that does not stay aloft easily, and the down draft sends waves out across the grass. Gusts that pulse in time with the music, as she is on the beats.
"Approaching thirty nine fortieths precision Sith'Machine." 733 vodes.
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Color Spray. Caster Level: 8 DC: 15 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls will+4: (8)+9+4: 21
The halfling matriarch sh's softly, "It's alright, dear, Ssassa is alright, it's like she's trying to molt." she explains to the little kobold.
Meanwhile, her own child, the albino sorceress-Knight, is still stomping her foot to the rythm and brings her hand through it's cycles of arcane gestures as she chants in time with the beat, "Flowing powers, chaos in flight, blooming flowers, of wierding light!" and, ending with her hand outstretched, fingers splayed, she unleashes a fanlight wave of brilliant rainbow light at the palescale dragonling. <halfling>
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Color Spray. Caster Level: 8 DC: 15 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls will+4: (19)+9+4: 32
Jinks arrives late (as bards sometimes do), haloed in spiraling motes of mauve and a soft pink. He's a half form of spinning lights and shadow where he dismounts to tether the pony and give himself a once over, already swaying in time with the music. A pause. A deep breath. And he steps forward to the the sensitivities.
The gnome dressed for the occasion, glittering as always and wrapped head to toe in shades of purple meant to catch the eye. Indigo and dark purple compete and geometric patterns on a long, double-breasted coat with razer lapels and a diving V-neckline. The sleeves hang past his hand with slits up to the elbow, draping down when he lifts his hands to reveal forearms heavy with white gold and sterling silver and forearms twisting with henna artwork in the shape of gears and mechanisms.
Chains dangle between nose and ear piercings, his lips are painted and his eyes shadowed. He's already donning that affect of supreme confidence, the stage swagger. He rolls his shoulders and pulls the lapel of his coat wider to bare more of his chest. He parts the lowest section of his coat and plants one foot forward, sideways, and pivots in a tight spin as he finds the rhythm of the music. His chin nods, one finger taps the empty air. He's here.
Eight
Cryosanthia dazzles, hit by colour spray and then again. The glow ripples through her, shining through all the cracks. The thin bands down her back and all along her front, the swirls and whorls of what used to be her spells but now are...
The sigils of Mysdanril, the letters and runes of ancient magic. Symmetrical, elegant, her hide has been rewritten with the language of dragons and animus.
The golem band builds, approaching a crescendo. Cryosanthia lands and arches upwards. Inhales, breathing deep, her chest swells.
She ROARS!
As she does, another power builds within her, the cold blue twinkling, stronger and brilliant, swelling in her chest then surging up her throat. Jaws wide, mouth aimed up, her draconic scream is enhanced with an unrelenting blast of ice shards and snow.
"Yaaasss!" Lily squeals.
Focusing entirely on her sister's antics, and her role in it, Faran doesn't realize the arrival of the bard just yet. She closes her eyes a moment, taking the cracks without pain as a sign that the exterior is a shall, a shell she must help her sister escape back into the world that needs her. Back to those that love her.
A tear brims in her eye that her safer magics aren't sufficient, that she needs something bigger... and she only has one that may serve.
As it had before in the planar habitat, Faran's hand comes upright, only the ring finger curled back on itself,
"Ravenous warmth and piercing light..." she chants, her voice gaining subtle resonance of the powers she invokes and she twists the hand, palm outward.
"I free thee now from Order's Cage" She curls her middle finger back into her palm like that of the ring. A pinprick of warm golden light appears before her hand.
"Yield yon power to mortal fight..." and her hand lifts over her head as a roiling nimbus expands from that pinprick, congealing into a rippling bubble of golden light as the limb reaches it's apex.
"And Unleash now thy deadly rage!" the last verse coming in cry as she hurls the sphere into a place over and behind the palescale so she catches only the barest edge of the resulting bright, blazing fireball, backlighting Cryosanthia, and spreading her shadow over the plain. <halfling>
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Fireball. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls reflex: (14)+12: 26 <OOC> Jinks says, "Two rounds of Inspire Competence (have a +2 for your dancin') and then a Glitterdust." GAME: Jinks casts Glitterdust. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 <OOC> Jinks says, "You'll be fuckin' sparkly as shizz for 5 rounds if you save. Blind for 5 if you don't." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls will: (3)+9: 12 GAME: Jinks casts Gallant Inspiration. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Jinks rolls 2d4: (7): 7 (On Flight)
Jinks holds his place opposite the band from the dancefloor, his head back and mouth agape as the workings of his neck stand stark against his fair skin. When the roar fades the crescendo holds its apex; the gnome has brought two voices. His tenor sings with the rhythm, twisting a counter melody into the featured soloist as he recites Kulthian verse over the pulse of the golems. Beneath him the Hymn swells, a basso harmony impossibly deep for one so small. It twists through the threads of the Weave and brings Gaea into sharp focus. The steps of a dance come easier. The fingering and strumming, reeding and drumming are all more sure and natural.
The buttons on the gnome's coat strain against the swell of his diaphragm, his face darkens for the effort. Lithe hands wave up in wide arcs, fingers splayed as his palms cradle the stars of the sky above. The right waves in and up, then the left, and his lights dive ahead over the dance in tight spiral before exploding out to five points of the clearing where they bob.
Swimming already in the Hymn, Jinks circuits Cryosanthia with a hand on his hip, the other down straight as his side. His legs do the work while his torso stays straight. Then a flourish; a fist in the air, his song echoes, and a toss. A shower flies in the wake of the blasting heat, sucking into the absence created by devoured air. Finally, an explosion of brilliant neon motes. Glittering in the briefest, most voltaile of lives before winking out into nothing.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perform/dance: (7)+23+2: 32 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perform/percussion: (1)+23+2: 26 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perform/sing: (14)+23+2: 39 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perform/act: (10)+8+2: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls fly: (6)+12+2+7: 27
The golem band performs perfectly, the crescendo reaching a climax at dragon roar and dragon breath.
Lily watches in awe, jaw dropped and roaring with her Ssassa
The fireball blossoms into a small sun behind Cryosanthia. She feels the heat at her back. The cold inside. Her confidence swelling. She is a dark silhouette shot through with the markings of magic, the patterns of her ancient ancestors, letters of power.
More, she feels it. The weave of the hymn, the tingle of the ley-lines, the connection to the magic. The pathways that she burned that her cihuaa restored.
And she remembers the voice that she heard, the advice, the feeling of being pulled apart. When her form changed.
She explodes in a burst of glitter, enveloped by Jinks' spell which catches the flames of Farans' fireball.
Turning black into light.
It's so simple. I am myself. Cryosanthia takes off one costume and puts on another.
She alights on the ground, a Sith'makar, and waves of music crash and drone behind her as she stands and takes a bow. Eight bows, for each person in the audience.
She wonders for a moment, if a medic amputating a rotting limb to save a patient ever feels what she felt unleashing that spell on her own sister. It was part of her treatment, she'd asked for some attack spells, but...
But it still troubles her.
With the convocation of her sister's breath, her fireball and even the contributions of the sharp dressed man, and Cryosanthia's resultant liberation to her normal form, it assuages her guilt to no small measure and her feet pound grass as the bowing begins.
As it ends, a fluffy missile latches onto her for dear life in a hug.
The elder Waywalker, finally done clapping, guides her niece up to her feet with numbly stinging hands and says, "Come, let's see Ssassa, dear!" and begins to make her own way over.
Faranmidahn looks over toward the band, "Thank you! Thank you all for a.... wonderful performance!"
Then, to the dapper Gnomish fellow, "And you, well cast, sir!"
Jinks has taken off in the wake of the song and Cryosanthia's transformation. Before the glitter is gone from the sith's eyes. Before folk have finished bowing or clapping and had a chance to turn and espy the gnome. The space he left is just standing grass and the night wind. The pony is gone, too, and in short order the bobbing quintet of lights wink out in rapid succession. He was happy to help as he could, perhaps, but unable to stay and join the celebrations.
"Your synchronization dropped to seven tenths on the climax and there was a performance variance in your routine." 733 vodes. Some are fixated on numbers.
Cryosanthia is beset by hugs, "Ahh!" She laughs in pain, blinded, "that was bracing. I think my back is burned. I should get it looked at."
Although the giddiness of her words suggests she's fine, or in enough agony an adrenaline rush has pushed her into a pleased shock.
Lily scampers up, eagerly leading Serrendine. Not exactly dragging her, but she's as far out in front as she can be.
"You presence as audience and effects production is appreciated." 733 says, bowing, with Panflute and Stringbox emitting equally positive sounds.
Jinks departure is felt by Cryo, not seen. It's a while before the glitter clears from her eyes. She is a golden version of herself, shedding sparkling flakes.
Her left hand swirls through a graceful arcane gesture and her scales twinkle, from her heart out to fingertips, to form in glowing shapes that sway in the sky. Her right moves in a similar way, and her icicle dagger forms, pure clear ice and enveloped in fog. Her magic works, just as it should.
Faranmidahn swallows her heart, "I'm sorry, you... wanted attack spells, and the ones I had weren't doing the job. You... needed something bigger." she utters in a choked tone.
As Cryo starts to invoke her own magics, Serrendine, finally brought into the fold by energetic little Lily, joins in the hug even as she asks, "Is everything as it should be?"
Cryo embraces Faran and trills quietly at her, "it's okay. It stings but this one will be fine. Un'eth or Seyardu or... someone will heal me. I'll buy a regenerate if my scales are blemished."
"I needed a shock, to... feel... myself." She pets, stroking the little Lucht's back. "I'm okay, and watch this."
She spreads her wings wide. "Wings." There's a moment of concentration, "No wings." Another intent stare, "Wings!"
"Ssassa." Lily peeps, pointing and being ignored, taking the hug. She laughs too, but repeats, "Ssassa."
The whitescale looks at her right wing, "AHH!"
The tiny deed mark in the nook of her elbow is gone. Replaced by a gigantic one that covers the membrane.
Faranmidahn is still frowning at the end of Cryo's assessment. Her intention wasn't to cause lasting damage, but... she went with her instincts, and it seems to have worked, though causing pain wasn't her goal.
She seems curious about the controlled shifting of Cryo's body, and the casual ease of the effect, of her sister's bearing mollifies her some, and she allows herself a smile of tentative, hesitant relief.
Serrendine seems somewhat astounded by the grand marking, though her understanding of the symbolism itself is not lofty.
Cryosanthia is distracted by the sting, and the size of the deed mark on her wing. She pokes at it, then concentrates some more. Wing vanishes, wing re-appears. The mark is gone. Not gargantuan, not in the nook.
"Huh. Oh there it is." Down near the leading wingtip, three interlocked circles the size of a dinner plate. "It moves around and changes size. Weird"
She can be forgiven for not noticing something else, which swiftly becomes apparent. At first it seems she didn't completely change back, her mid-section is much larger and missing the normal curves to her hips. She looks fat at first, but crouched with everyone hugging her, those curves are firm, and rounded.
She was trying for a nest. She's succeeded. Cryosanthia is obviously gravid.
The little Knight nods, looking to the wing as Cryo plays with the new power she's unlocked.
She blinks a bit, and her hand gently touches Cryo's midsection as she cocks her head, "Cryo...?" she starts softly.
A beat or two, and she leans into to whisper to her mother as the Golems are likely not sages on such things, and the goodly bard has absconded.
A whisper back, and Serrendine, too, starts to feel at the Sith's midriff. She nods.
Faran is still for a moment, processing that, then smiles up and caresses the pale scales, "Honey... I think there's something you need to know..."
Lily has also noticed, copying the actions of her lucht aunts. She's also familiar with the condition, for Kobolds, and this is just enough doubt she stays silent with her hands on her Ssassa's belly.
"Mmmm?" Cryo asks, looking at Faran, midway through re-manifesting her wings to see where else the deed mark might go, seeking a pattern or randomness. "What Faran?"
Faranmidahn leans in and presses her cheek against her dragon, sister, dear friend and occasionally would-be mount, "You're going to have more mouths to feed, Cryosanthia." A gentle pat, "Congratulations!"
Serrendine reaches up to the closest she can reach of a shoulder and offers her own heartsome warmth, "Congratulations, dear."
Then, almost as one, the Luchts smile and hug Lily, assuring her of what she probably already knows, "You're gonna be a sister, sweetie!"
"Yaaaay!" Lily says, hugging Cryo and leaning her head against her belly, voicing what she thought now that it has been confirmed. "Ssasaa has eggss!"
"Whaaa...?" Cryosanthia says, focusing on the feelings of her body, the extra weight, the shift in balance, her new roundness. There's a flicker of something following her surprise, worry which she quickly shakes her head to dismiss. "Un'eth said time would pass."
"You're going to be the big sister Lily!" The palescale congratulates her youngling, then hugs her, and Faran, and Serrendine. Exhales, speaks with happiness, "This one will need your help, as clutch-mothers. Perhaps the other Makari, Seyardu or Vaera will be clutch-mothers too. I'll need Egg-watchers."
She stunned, giddy, "Oh Silver Empress! I'm going to be a nest mother!"
The Set List and program
Inspirational Music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyh-HBKk6QM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lX44CAz-JhU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J635mqk769k
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulfeM8JGq7s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZzK32Cfcq8
<OOC> Jinks says, "Your dice seem to be busted."
<OOC> Jinks says, "You should let them know this is a fun one-off scene and not something tactically important so they can take the night off from being jerks."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "oh they don't listen"
https://i.imgur.com/3iqQplS.jpeg
