Post by Caedan on Jul 9, 2008 0:29:54 GMT -5
Caedan is napping at the hearth, tucked away securely under a mound of blankets, and otherwise out of sight, and assuredly out of mind. The teen dozes lightly, and eventually allows herself to drift off into a deep slumber. The phoenix buried in her lap vanishes, though the lump that composes Caedan's reclusive respite remains in place. Soon, she has emerged into that realm of dream, the vibrant garden that greets her upon arrival. Within that plane, she unwraps herself from her blanket, and stands, while being immediately welcomed by a female centaur that gathers her into a fond embrace. A small bird alights on her shoulder, and the psychic's giggles echo across the brook she treads towards. She is helped across the gently flowing stream by a pair of twin turtles and she skips merrily up the side of the mossy embankment. Her destination appears to be a pantheon of sorts, a columned structure in the distance, where various creatures seem to be amassing. It is a heavenly place, full of life, and eternal sunshine. A dryad stops her to press a flower into her hand, and a doe nursing her fawn lifts her head as the girl passes, while the little one scampers over to receive an obligatory pet of a velvety nose. Meanwhile, back in the tavern, business carries on as normal. That is, until Terra's position atop the bar would flicker, fade, flare, and then vanish altogether. The elfess would quite suddenly find herself plunged into this alternate reality of the teen's making, as if drawn by the sheer force of her imagination, and subtle affection for the woman. Caedan is some way ahead, rolling in the grass with a pair of centaur sentries, and Terra would have to find her own way in this land of make-believe.
Terra had been so worried about the blisters covering the pads of her feet to notice that the tavern was no longer her place of residence. It wasn't until the heat of the sun's rays, that sudden ability to see everything clearly, and the scent that wafted pass carrying flowers and happiness in the wake in the place of stale smoke, liquor, death. Pretty features contorted into something of agony at the sight of it all, and she immediately cowered back only to find that she hadn't caught on fire. She wouldn't. The pain pulsating through legs from her feet was gone, and even the bruises that decorated pale flesh had vanished and left a feeling of serenity. Eyes narrowed, squinting off at the distance as she tried to find some hint of where she was, or at least how she got here. She hadn't dreamed of the sun in so long... Was that the form of a deranged teenager up ahead? Feet pressed into the grass, and softly she padded after what she believed to be Caedan. It was odd, but Terra knew that if any had answers it would be the girl. The turtle bridge formed was taken by the vampiress, and the very same dryad extended a welcoming, blooming flower to Terra, which was accepted and tucked neatly behind a pointed ear and situated in a mess of curls. No words came to mind as she followed the path over to a frolicking Caedan, stopping at a distance to crouch down and examine the girl with a curious expression. Curiosity caused her to tilt her head, and a smile came easily. She'd wait there, with that smile, and simply watch the girl and the creatures that took to examining her.
Caedan is happy to frolic with the pair of centaurs who roll about in the grass, relieving an itch here, and a scratch there. She is mindless of the hooves which thrash about, as she twists and writhes in the middle of them; but she is safe. No harm will befall her here, no injury. She is panting by the time they stop, and sits up only to find Terra directly in her line of sight. Surprise contorts her features ere she beams, and is scooped up by one of the centaurs that deposits her on his back. "You're here!" She dwelt not on the how, or why, and was simply content in the knowledge that a friend had somehow accompanied her. The other centaur makes the few loping strides it takes to reach the elfess, and immediately scoops her up as well, and places her with a soft bounce on his back, before returning to Caedan's side. "It's nice. I like it here." Her statement is rewarded with a harmony of agreement, birds chittering, soft neighs from the three unicorns who canter down a hill towards the structure all seem to be converging upon. "They're expecting us." She reaches for Terra's hand, and grins; her expression retains no sign of the madness which afflicts her in reality. "You'll stay for a little while?" Because in all honesty, Caedan has no idea she is the originator of such creation, the harbinger of such delight. Her features are alight with happiness, and a tinge of expectancy, as she awaits her female companion. Within the musky atmosphere of the tavern, a certain avian would flicker, fade, flare, and vanish, in much the same way Terra had. He finds himself greeted by a beautiful dryad, who would situate a flower in his hair, and offer a kiss to both cheeks. "Welcome," she coos, and is soon joined by three of her sisters who fuss over him, preening his wings, attempting to place a crown of ivy atop his head. "We have heard of you from Mynero. Welcome."
Terra was still in a sort of blissful state of shock at the place; it was beautiful. Only once had she come across a place similar to this and that was beneath the murky depths of an ocean that nearly killed her in attempting to reach that place. She'd squeak, a high-pitched noise of surprise at suddenly finding her feet no longer touched the ground and hands petted against the soft fur of the centaur's body. It was something she imagined doing to Mynero but thought it best not to as to avoid angering the majestic creature, especially since she hadn't a clue where he had stemmed from. This place, that was for sure, but where was it? Head would shake, clearing the thoughts away and her hand immediately found Caedan's outstretched one, giving it a gentle squeeze and pleased to see that the night before hadn't shook her into a further state of madness, and even more pleased to see that Caedan felt at ease here. She smiled without that sadistic hint, and it was beautiful. The entire place was. "I'll stay as long as I can." And she would. Not even the nagging thought of unserved customers could keep her from offering a cheerful smile to her companion who had unknowingly summoned her here. The soft titters of chatty, cheery dryads beckoned her attention towards Demont who was then greeted by a lofted brow. "You're here too..." Despite the odd situation, she'd smile, basking in the light provided by something she'd never see or feel otherwise.
Demont finds himself distorted from reality, is often the case with himself, and thrown into a relative Utopian wilderness. Without much of any indication of surprise or uncertainty, the Avian takes it as it is, and ignores the Dryads greeting as best he can, even if a smile creeps upon his seeming made-of-stone face. Peace; Such a thing the winged creature has not seen in years, the serene feeling filling him, and he stands, basking in it for sometime until the faint words of Caedan traveling on the gentle breeze brush against his ears. He did not know where he was, nor why and somehow did not care, with knowing that his fiancée was here as well and set to taking flight to see where she may be. Such warm and peaceful air, relaxing to say the least met the wraith at an altitude that would give him clear visuals of the dreamland, and it did. Below he spotted Caedan, cheerful and carefree, a sight he had prayed for everyday and saw too, Terra, bouncing upon the back of a Centaur towards the conjurer of this dream and set for them, reaching the mid-point of the two and alighting upon the grassy meadow to set sights on Caedan. With the Ivy Crown adorning his head, it was a sight to behold. As the unicorns scampered down the hill towards the troupe, a very tender embrace would be afforded to his 'Rose.' "Where are we?" He had almost forgotten, and a feather was plucked from his right wing and handed to her. The approaching Terra was ignored, for now as his attention remained solely on Caedan, and the horned beasts closely resembling horses.
Caedan reacts to the wraith's presence by extending a wide grin to him, and blushing slightly when that feather is tucked behind her ear. Terra's hand is released as the pair of centaurs begin their descent down the hill, towards the glade which houses the ornate pillars. Once at the bottom of the hill, her centaur takes a detour, and canters towards the end of the stream, which is the bottom of a waterfall now, as the descent had been a steep one. The psychic giggles as the creature plunges in, and splashes about playfully. He coats his chest with that sparkling water as great hooves strike the surface repeatedly, and Caedan slips from his back to splash more water on him. The centaur laughs and dips downward to return the favor, which elicits another burst of giggles. The second centaur, bearing Terra, will not be left out, and quickly makes a beeline for the water-bound pair, and plunges in with them. Caedan splashes at Terra, and ducks behind her centaur to avoid retribution. There is no hurry in this land, no rush, though it does appear the teen has somewhere to be. Eventually Demont will be noted again, and she will smile shyly, and duck her head, for here, in this world, she possesses such emotion as love, even affection. It comes far more readily than in reality's plane of existence. Of course, a hail of water from one of the centaurs will draw her attention back once again, and she will wade towards the waterfall, and perhaps pull Terra along with her, where they can hide from the hoofed pair. Everything here seems to be sentient, and veil of frothy water parts to allow the duo passage into the inner sanctum, where only the dull echo of the falls exists, along with a myriad of colour from the sun which filters across the water, and channels a rainbow in a prism-like display. Of course, by now, Caedan seems to be encouraged by the other's reaction to this place, and the gentle pianist will find herself plunged into the world, set atop the hill where she will be welcomed by attentive dryads who fuss with her hair, and drape garlands of flowers about her neck. Perhaps Sidonia's mood will be encouraged in this realm, and the melancholy that Caedan feels so acutely will be rectified.
Demont follows the pair of women and horse-men creatures to the pristine waters flowing from the hill, he would even watch as they play, and splash each other, he would even blush himself at the smile given by Caedan, and marvel at the feeling that has been lost to him for as long as he can remember. He would not mind staying in this place for eternity with her, just to see that expression on her face day in and day out. He would even watch them walk into the thundering wall of water that parts as if a string had been pulled on a curtain to admit them passage into the cavernous depths hidden behind the foreboding element plummeting down. Preciously, the winged creature took a step into the cool, yet not freezing waters, with arms crossed before his bare chest and look at his reflection, Dryads, and even a Fae or two fluttering about him. One would think he an Angel in Heaven, and this place might as well be Heaven. Slow steps were taken towards the falling waters, eyes watching the crystal clear water curling about his ankles and the golden, blue, and even red fish carelessly swimming and dancing --If such was possible for fish-- in the currents. Did they follow the water down, and survive? What a place. He continued to walk, attention long gone, and a blissful veil covering him, the waterfall parting as it did for Caedan and Terra to greet him with the depths beyond, and his companions. Would Sidonia find them, would she wander off on her own and find the same bliss and happiness each had, and become lost to the magic? He had no doubt the piano player would find them, things here seemed to have a way of working themselves out.
Gondien would smile, a smile that would cause his eyes to be locked from the world, though it would be a very good thing as Sidonia vanishes in a bright flash of light, leaving the former-druid's hand with a gently warm tingle as his serpentine symphony rings out as the arm falls to have netted hand contact the spot which once held Sidonia upon the wooden bench before the piano. His jaded grey hues snap open to the world and Gondien looks around...extremely confused, noting the lack of presence.
Sidonia, still reeling from her triumphant confrontation with her piano, gasps in shock as she watches the world around her flicker and fade with wide eyes. She blinks once, thinking that maybe the memories she tries so hard to keep at bay are getting the best of her. But when the pale eyes open, it doesn't take more than a moment to realize that she's never seen this place before, nor anything like it. No, she's never stood upon a hilltop, a breeze teasing curls from their barely-combed state. And sunlight... oh.... Though she's told some that she's grown used to the dark, and in truth she has, she hasn't realized how much she's missed the feeling of a golden glow, instead of a silver one. Abruptly brought out of her reverie, she can't say that she minds much; she's still in the sun, but now a flower is being braided into her hair, as well as a chain of them placed gingerly about her neck. Breathing in the delicious scent of white roses, the pianist smiles widely. And when she does, it is not cracked, parched lips that part but smooth ones, a mere sample of all the aches that have suddenly vanished from her form. A laugh escapes the girl and she looks down, suddenly realizing that her heavy cloak and ragged gown have disappeared as well; they are replaced by a light gown of a peach's hue, the smooth silk flowing easily with the slightest movement. With a thank you, she soon distances herself from the dryads, eager to explore the rest of this world. Hm, this world.... Yes, it's possible that her mind has finally snapped, broken in two while she fell through the cracks. But if this is the case, it's fine with her. Bare feet pound the soft grass underfoot as the girl runs freely, turning her face up toward the sun again before the sound of running water catches the sensitive ears. Watching as familiar silhouettes go through the water, the fall parting like a curtain for them, she follows, wading into the pleasant water to follow them. All such thoughts are forgotten, however, as the jewel-bright fish catch her eye, swimming in ribbons around her ankles.
Caedan reaches for Demont when he crests the frothing veil which parts for his entrance, and playfully splashes him before darting into the light once again. She weaves in and out of the falls, which descend as more of a sprinkling mist than any tumultuous sea. The centaurs have moved onto the bank and are contentedly basking in the sun to dry, awaiting their beloved girl and the one she feels so strongly for to emerge from the stream as well. The teen stealthily creeps through the encompassing mist, and trails behind the avian, seeking an opportunity to splash him again without detection. Atop the hill, the dryads blow kisses to the departing Sidonia, and gesture down the hill, while the turtles will form to make a bridge for her to cross the stream and descend the hill, where she can find the falls. Within the tavern, Gondien might feel an odd sensation before he too vanished, and emerged within Caedan's realm of dream, her veritable utopia. The chains would have vanished, and only a serene calm such as none other would be felt. Meanwhile, Caedan loses sight of the wraith, and muffles a giggle as she explores the misty cavern to find him again.
Demont grins as Caedan prances to and fro, watching -his- angel be free from the constraints of the real world, where fear and hate outweigh the good and peace. More steps are taken, towards his love and a laugh, a very unfamiliar sound to Demont, escapes him. He would be surprised at the action if he were not in this place, yet the sound seems natural, as if he’d gone every day of his life laughing. The cause of such jovial sounds being Caedan’s splashing which he thoroughly enjoys. With a bend of his legs and waist, once rough and calloused and gnarled hands, replaced with smooth and healthy skin, cup to scoop up water to throw at Caedan, but the action is halted as he spots Sidonia approaching and gives the conjurer sleeping back in the tavern a chance to complete her stealthy, playful attack. With water in his hands, it is thrown instead at Sidonia with a smile. With Caedan behind him, a hand extends to grab her own and he pulls her from the stream to the bank and tall grasses flanking it to pull her down with him into their softness. Small insects flicker about and settle in new regions as the pair tumble, wild flowers and the grass filling his nose with their sweet aroma. Hands would reach up and bury themselves in the still unruly, soft hair of Caedan’s, each digit swimming in the strands. Gondien would of course be noticed after a tender kiss would befall his fiancé’s cheek, and forehead and finally lips, such soft things he would hope to remember should this Haven come crashing down and throw each back into the world they each deep down hate. A moment would be given to ponder as to why each of the inhabitants of the Hanging Corpse were finding themselves here, but the moment such a thought came into his head, it left, and no matter how hard he tried to think in it, it eluded him as a firefly would elude a small child in the waning hours of the day as he chased it to marvel at the magic and light it could create. This was how it seemed in those hours, a time when the worries of the world could be lifted from ones shoulders and peace could take its place.
Odd sensations were never Gondien's friends, though the 'elf' would be more concerned about how anything could possibly be taking him anywhere, was there something that could touch him despite being an anti-mage? Impossible...he would reach to grab for his broadswords as the Tavern fades, only to find them gone. All he would feel is the touch of the smooth hands of the silken skinned dryads as his previous attire is gone. The gladiator would find himself donned in the softest of silken pants, bare feet graced by the grass between his toes, and a type of shawl of the same material as the pants. The silk would be a deep forest green with leaf green trimmings and embroidery, though the elf would have his mind on other things. The dryads jump with slight glee as they marvel his silken garb, thusly setting his arms into movement...without the symphony. The man gasps rather audibly as he gazes upon metal-lacking arms, his once silken smooth skin returned and stretched about his musculature, with no trace of the brutal bolts...no trace of slavery...this thought was the truest of happy that the man would ever be, he thought. As his voice, no longer gruff from battle but beautiful as an elf's voice should be, laughs out into the warm air. He closes his eyes as he allows the warm breeze to flow through his hair, rustling the more golden locks gloriously, then the unthinkable occurs. As he laughs out a small batch of exotically beautiful flowers slowly grow as if out of nowhere, causing jaded grey hues to flitter open again and his jaw to gape open. The colors on the flowers were breath-taking, the perfect blend of all the natural colors a rose could be and swirling them around each other in eye-capturing fashion. Gondien's hands release the dryad's as he drops to his knees, tears of pure and complete happiness streaming down his face as he plucks up the flowers in his hands...these flowers, these specifically enrapturing flowers...were always what he used to grow. Closing his eyes, he brings the bouquet up to his face to take in the scent and feel this affinity for the druidic world seeping back into him...this place was Heaven...pure Nirvana. He laughs joyously and rises to his feet and turns to the dryads, splitting the bouquet up evenly he departs one section to each of them, adding an ecstatic kiss upon the cheek to each as well, sending the dryads tittering in glee as he sees their cheeks flush slightly, causing the most genuine smile to split his features smoothly and delicately. He turns about and looks down the hill to view Sidonia gazing upon the exotic fish. He bows to the dryads and makes his way down the hill, each step graced with the growth of a ring of those flowers so precious to the man and remaining there, even as his feet leave the ground. Even as the man strides into the water, the flowers grow, but on top of the water's surface, upon reaching Sidonia he smiles wide to the pianist. "Sidonia!" he ecstatically says to the woman, his words accompanied by the breaking of the water's surface via the brilliantly scaled fish.
Sidonia forgoes the turtle bridge as it appears, choosing instead to remain on her own path. Wading still further-- slowly, so as to admire all the tiny creatures that hide 'neath the leaves of water lilies-- she doesn't notice Demont's attack until it splashes across her chest. The silk reveals nothing the modest vampiress wouldn't want it to, even when wet, but it does get soaked through; girl is dripping from neck to waist. But a grin alights upon her lips, delicate fangs gleaming in the sun, and she scoops up her own handful to retaliate. But when Gondien's voice sounds behind her, she spins and loosens the liquid at him. Laughing as she wades toward her target, the girl looks so much younger than most have seen her in the tavern-- she looks her age of eighteen years, immortal or not, and as if her childhood had not been stolen, but merely misplaced. The peach gown drying uncanny quick, she cannot help but throw her arms around Gondien, hugging her friend in her joy. "Gondien!" she cries just before she reaches him, the lilting accent in her voice not hindered by hoarseness or dread. After she pulls back, a small hand is brought to the water's surface to scoop a flower up. Examining it carefully, she holds it just before her face, inhaling deeply so as to catch the scent. "What is it...?" she asks quietly, not seeming to notice that all the white roses woven into her hair seem to open with Gondien's presence, their petals reaching toward the azure sky. "This flower... I've never seen it before...." A quick glance is given to the rings of the blooms that mark his footprints, and a bell-like laugh escapes her lips. "They're following you!" As the two of them stand in the water, the gemstone fish suddenly make a return, having been parted by their wading. The schools flow around their ankles, and then higher, rising almost to the surface of the water as they create a rainbow ring around the two friends.
Caedan tumbles onto the embankment with a muffled giggle, and a vibrant flush to normally gaunt features. She is healthy here, in this world, this realm of dreams, borne from her imagination. The teen happily tumbles with the wraith until they come to a stop, and his hand buries itself into her hair. Free from the restraints of dementia which keep her a constant prisoner from semblance of a normal life, she executes what now comes naturally. Lips purse, and sooty lashes drift to high cheekbones, and she is the eager recipient of those feather-light kisses, which are returned with a passion previously unknown. "I'm glad you're here," she breathes against him, one hand finding a tender placement at the nape of his neck, while the other strays through plumage of the purest hue. Again, her lips seek his own, and only the tiniest ball of feathers alighting in her hair serves to distract her from the passionate moment. The tiny phoenix is allowed to remain in tangled, wildflower-strewn tresses as the psychic languidly pulls herself into a stand. One of the centaurs is on hand, and quickly sweeps her onto his back, where she will regard Demont from her lofty perch with a wide grin. "They're expecting us." A nod indicates that pantheon just down a leaf-covered path, and the assortment of creatures plodding towards it. She glances towards the couple who are surrounded by the mottled fish that swim elegant circles around them, and allows a friendly smile to splash across uncharacteristically serene features. The centaur plods onward, and a dragon of the bluest blues, nearly imperceptible from the sky itself, streaks towards the columned structure to join in the gathering throng. The majestic mount carries Caedan to steps of warm marble, and she slips from the ebony back to climb the first two. Here, she pauses, and reaches for Demont's hand, before ascending the next flight.
Demont revels in this new persona that has captured Caedan, and watches as she rises and mounts the Centaur, and he to rises, while brushing soft finger tips to his equally soft lips. Such a feeling this was, to have such affections afforded to Caedan returned in kind. A warmness rose in his cheeks, and a flutter took hold of his stomach, not just the cliché butterflies feeling, It felt as if he had swallowed a school of live eels and they were now in his belly, swimming about. The though of flying after the one who made this all possible entered his mind, and in doing so pushed the nebulous thought of why they were all there from it. Flying however was discarded as he opted to take the short walk through the grasses and flowers, hands flattened palm down to graze over the tops the foliage, the feel exciting the nerves just beneath the skin of his palms to cause fingers to twitch involuntarily. During his progress to the steps of the gathering place, flowers of all colors and shapes were gathers, wild red roses, Fringed Bluestar, Goldenrod, Sunflower and Aster, among a myriad of others. These fragrant flowers would be given to Caedan upon cresting the first set of white steps, free hand coming to pat the haunches of the beast who had carried Caedan here as if she were a feather.
Gondien would laugh as the wet assault from Sidonia splashes over his bare chest over which hangs the ends of the elven shawl, both becoming soaked through, though this does nothing to stop the elf from graciously embracing his friend, any and all signs of wear and hardships gone from him as well. He smiles as she lifts up one of the flowers, the scent of it being such the sweetest aroma one thought would come from flora. The flowers about his soaked silk-clad legs are given a look, he then steps away to show Sidonia the path of similar rings all the way back up to the dryads who are still tittering over their bouquets. A silken smooth hand gestures to the line of the beautiful things as he looks back to his piano playing friend, "They follow because I wish them to..." He then leans down to cup a puddle of water in his palm, looking to his friend's eyes with his jaded grey ones he smiles as three of the flowers slowly grow from nowhere in the puddle of water. Sidonia knew what he had lost, and she would be able to tell, "These...these are my joy...my pride...my creation. It has truly been so long since I last gazed upon them..." As he speaks his eyes drift back to the floral creations in his hand as he allows the water to drain between his fingers. Fingers which then grasp the stems of the druid's creations, only to then place one on the girl's hair on either side of her head, the stems of the flowers braiding themselves into her black locks gently and securely. The last is held up to her necklace of opened roses, the stem of said flower growing out to weave into the necklace and dangle off of it as if it were a pendant. After each of the three flowers was secured gently and artistically to humbly dwell on Sidonia's person, Gondien would then grace each of her cheeks with a touch of his soft lips to then lean back slightly and smile approvingly at Sidonia's floral decked persona, a fanged smile being the only thing that would respond to the sight...a gesture that was all that was needed to express his glee for the image forever to be ingrained into his memory.
Sidonia watches with wide, wondering eyes as the bloom's talents are displayed, as well as Gondien's own. Though usually a bittersweet ache would come to her chest at the idea of having such and losing all, she can feel no sadness in this place; nothing can mar the bliss that resides here. Closing her eyes as a flower is tucked behind each ear, as well as when he attaches it to the rose-chain she already wears, the pale eyes open as he kisses her cheeks. At first it might seem that the girl's earlier anxiety has followed her here, made her adverse to displays of affection even between mere friends. But then her lips part in a smile, then a laugh. "What are they called?" she asks, stroking flower behind her ear. Wanting to talk as they both explore, the makes her way out of the water, the silk flowing on the surface so as not to trap her legs and becoming instantly airy again once on shore. A sudden wind blows through, whipping her hair to one side, and it can be seen, for Gondien, that her back is a pure expanse of marble; there are no torturous scars, no monstrous brand. The wind keeps up its playful display, and the girl delights in it. She spins around, letting her dress and hair be blown about. Spinning and spinning until she finally falls upon the soft grass, dizzy and dazed. As she lies there, upon the grass, a single stem of a white rose suddenly grows near her head. No thorns adorn the stem, and the blossom seems to kiss her forehead, the center of the petals brushing the skin there. "How beautiful," she breathes. The tiniest fairy Sidonia’s ever seen steps from the folds of the petals once the rose stands tall again, and it flutters on butterfly wings to dance before Sidonia's eyes in a shimmering, iridescent whirl.
Caedan accepts the bouquet in lieu of his hand, and inhales deeply of the fragrant blooms while bare feet pad upward once again, cresting the top of the stairs which seem to extend the around the entirety of the auditorium. Only the dragon has not been able to find a place inside; he remains on the outside, wrapped around the eastern half of the circular structure, though his tail is draped down one corridor of steps, and rests in the center of the marble floor, which is empty but for a single platform with a comfortable armchair, which is a bit lumpy, and slightly out of place, but there, nonetheless. The teen stands on tiptoe to press her lips against Demont's again, before scampering down the steps to the middle of the stadium-esque room. On her way, she is greeted by a motley of creatures who embrace her, or touch her hand, her hair, or fuss over her in general. She smiles graciously to each, and adoringly returned each affection until bare feet pad soundlessly onto the mezzanine. The dragon's tail is swift in gently bumping the back of her legs, which causes her to sit abruptly, with a giggle, ere he lifts her to that armchair raised upon the platform. She settles in comfortably, and he retracts his tail with a dull thump against the ground, and the whispers and excited conversations flowing around the pantheon suddenly cease. All are in attendance now, the dryads, faeries, centaurs, more creatures that only a mind most unusual could conjure. They all wear expressions of acceptance, even joy, as the psychic takes her place among them. "Welcome," seems to emanate from the stands, repeated over and over with adoration evident every time the word is spoken. She grins, and answers, tone more lucid than it ever had been, "Thank you. I am pleased to see you all once again." A phoenix of the brightest oranges settles on the back of her perch, while the tiny fledgling nestled in her hair is removed and tucked away on her lap, as she sits cross-legged upon her ragged throne. Meanwhile, Caedan herself is still an inconspicuous lump before the hearth, snoozing soundly under layers of blankets that serve to assure that she is relatively undisturbed.
Demont follows the congregating creatures as Caedan settles into the raggedy throne and before sitting within the arranged seats of the stadium veers to the left of the corridor, where the dragon’s tail is and follows the gem-like blue scales of the massive creature, out and around, a hand coming to pet hard, yet gently to the lizard’s shoulder, or leg rather, the thing greeting the Avian with brilliant emerald eyes, slit pupils trained on him while the iris’ seem to give off a warm greeting, further assured by a nod of the intelligent creature. Flight follows the nod and Demont is allowed to settle atop the head of the beast as he turns the thing to focus upon the happenings within the center of the place, this vantage point giving him one of the best seats in the house.
Watching the pianist walk off...only to find herself grounded upon the soft grass, Gondien strides from the water as well, his silken pants drying as soon as they are relinquished from the cool water. Every barefooted step summons yet another beautiful ring of his druidic flowers. His feet cease their joyful padding beside the grounded girl, only to then drag one foot around, causing a line of the flowers to grow and bloom, in order to swivel his body about so the 'elf' may lean over Sidonia with a broad smile. A slight warmth is then felt in his cheeks, a warmth that is strange to him, but somehow graciously welcome. Something in the 'reborn' druid was stirring, altering in this world of serene happiness, something Gondien knew he could place but was unable due to the rush a joyous thoughts and feelings that flow about his mind. It would be only now that the gladiator would realize that this warmth was first brought up when his jaded grey hues fell over the breeze-blown and twirling female, so pristine in her beauty...no longer a statue destined to only stay in one place for an eternity until it crumbled away. No...now she was a masterpiece, a perfect show of grace that so many artists tried to capture. Looking down upon the woman he speaks, "They have no name...I was always going to wait for just the right moment to bestow their name upon them...a moment that I would recognize when I felt the name creeping up in my mind...that will be the time to name them..." His eyes drift to the fae as she flutters up into the air, granting a smile to it as he lifts a hand into the air, one finger extended. It would be upon this finger that yet another one of his flowers would grow and bloom, the open creation graced by the fairy's own self only to then flutter away with the flower floating along with it. He looks back down to Sidonia and extends out a hand to her to help her rise. The elf's head cants in the direction of the stadium from which the reverberations of joyous greetings and phrases chitter out into the air in a delightful melody.
Rheven steps into the tavern, gazing over those gathered - one of which catches his eye being Caedan, likely due to the fact that she's sleeping as one would in bed. Stepping over to the armchair, he taps his fingers along the surface of a table not so far from where she is sitting...until suddenly, his hand balls into a fist, slamming quite loudly into the surface, reverberating throughout the entire establishment. "...Wake up. Does this appear a place to simply slumber..? I doubt the proprietors would take to you doing so..."
Caedan watches Demont find a better seat in the amphitheater, and reclines with a contented sigh. A smile adorns serene features, and she opens her mouth to speak to her captive audience, when suddenly everything vanishes. The collision of fist with table stirs her from her slumber, and she lingers in that state somewhere between sleep and awareness before finally rousing, and shifting underneath her blanketed seclusion. Her head appears from the covers, hair straying wayward from static electricity, and she blinks sleepily. Quite suddenly, Demont is thrust into the tavern, a single feather loosened with the trip and wafting a forlorn path into the rafters. Sidonia joins him, once more perched upon the piano bench, and wearing her heavy cloak and ragged dress yet again. She is joined by Gondien, who appears in a melody of chains rustling, as they are in place once again. However, a garland of unique flowers adorns his neck; Sidonia would sport one of those in her hair. Demont still wears the crown of ivy. And Caedan? Caedan bears that tiny ball of feathers in her lap still, the tiny phoenix meeping as it finds itself jostled about as the teen pulls the blankets down from around her head. Meanwhile, she eyes Rheven surreptitiously, and mumbles, "Go away. She is only asleep here. Not killing anyone."
Rheven glances at Caedan as she stirs from her sleep - obviously, he didn't know any of the 'dream world' events going on, nor would he be overly interested in them even if. "No. Sleep elsewhere, child. A tavern is not meant for such things - besides...who is stopping another from picking your pockets? Taverns, regardless of quality, tend to invite the bottom of the barrel when it comes to individuals seeking a quick coin."
Sidonia's eyes are pressed tightly closed as they hurtle back into reality. After such an exquisite time in the mind of Caedan-- though the girl doesn't know so, of course-- she suddenly feels burdened... heavy.... Or perhaps that's the cloak upon her back? Looking up at Gondien, she begins to stammer out an explanation for why-- she assumed-- she had passed out. But it's then that she sees the chain of flowers around his neck, the blooms so unlike anything she's ever seen before. "Gondien...." she says softly, real curiosity filling her, as well as the hope that she wasn't mad. "Where did you get those?"
Gondien would prove to have much the same reaction as Sidonia, though his burden would more probably be his chains, and without the attempt to start explaining. He quirks a brow and looks down to the flowers about his neck, the warmth gone from his cheeks. The gladiator shakes his head as he looks to Sidonia, "I have no idea...but I could ask you the same question..." He gestures to the flower of the same type tucked away in her hair.
Caedan pulls her blanket back over her head, and situates the fledgling in her lap before reassuring Rheven, "No. Not tonight. Nothing on the outside will bother me tonight." She frowns, a brief shudder coursing through her body at what she had purposefully left unsaid. The utopia of her mind's machinations would not be revisited this evening. Instead, the nightmares, the visions, would claim her slumber now, and she would sleep restlessly, but succumb to that nightmarish world quickly. "Goodnight, dark one," she mumbles into her blankets.