I think you mean no NSFW elements.

Quite right. ^^' Thank you

Anytime.

Can we specify any little TF details as long as the pose remains the same?

Certainly ^^

Right, I'm in. And I'll pass the word around.

Thank you!

And sent.

Received!

So, “grow the tail on the donkey” on the party invitation wasn’t a mistake?

Definitely not a typo XD

Well, it certainly makes for more exciting party games.

Acrathia: You must be certain to let me torment Red sometime... he looks like one I could have a lot of fun with *smiles deviously*

'Fair game' once they stop being children, is that not the case?

Acrathia: Indeed love, though I do take into consideration other factors when it comes to the nature of their transformation. Are they a good person at heart? Do they need a push in the right direction? Or in some cases a shove... What is it I want them to learn? Are they even capable of learning? So many things to consider when cursing mortals.

Author: Of course, m'lady! It would be most beneficial for us both, I think. I hardly know the guy and you are quite talented at bringing out the best (and possibly worst) in my creations. ^^

Acrathia: *Devious smile intensifes* Name the time and place and I'd be happy to... define the boy...

Author: Hmmm… *snaps fingers and Red -mostly human at this point save for a donkey tail that he hasn’t been able to hide very well with a long winter coat- is sitting on a bench waiting for a bus and sipping at a cup of coffee*

Acrathia: *Deciding to see how he treats a fellow human, magically hides her fae features making herself look as how she would if she were human. She then dons the proper clothing for the weather of the area. She approaches the sound of her heeled boots on the pavement announcing her arrival. She does not address him, other than to give a nod of greeting, only if he makes any sort of greeting first. She sits on the same bench as he, pulls out a book, and begins to read. She observes him via magick means to see if there is any change in his behavior or demanor now that another is in his presence.*

Red: *Inclines his head to return the greeting and resumes looking ahead. He tries to subtly shift his tail upward so it doesn’t dangle anywhere in view. When he’s satisfied that Acrathia isn’t watching, he glances over to see what book she is reading.*

Acrathia: *pretends not to notice his looking at the book. It is a book on the history of the practice of Witchcraft, appears to be more mundane than fantastical, the kind of book someone studying it from an anthropological perspective. She pulls out a phone and checks the time before putting it back.*

* offhandedly* The bus seems to be running a bit late today...

Red: *nods* Figures. It’s been that kind of day. *he stands to toss his empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can and then sits again* It’s none of my business, but a word to the wise, don’t dig too deep into that kind of thing. *he nods to the book*

Acrathia: *gives the man a skeptical smirk* And why would that be? Afraid for my soul? Worried I am damned to hell? Or... a more practical reason?...

Red: *chuckles slightly* I don’t want to preach to you, if that’s what you mean. It’s just… there’s some truth to what those cultures believed, and if you’re not careful you can get burned.

Acrathia: *The bemused smirk never leaving her face* You sound like you speak from experience. What causes one to speak so cryptic about a subject that many do not? Anger a witch did we?

Red: *frowning and looking down at his clasped hands* More like read the wrong book.

Acrathia: *leans in l, now intrigued * Truly? That would make you slthe second man I've met recently who read a "wrong book" and it lead him to a problem very similar to your *ehem* little backside problem. * she nods to his tail that came out during the conversation*

Red: *blushes furiously as he scrambles to tuck it away* That… uh… I… heh… *his desperate fumbling for an explanation trails off as the penny drops* You don’t seem surprised by it at all. You said this has happened before to someone else?

Acrathia: *chuckles to herself* You could say I've seen this a few times before... The man I referred to read the tome of a witch's apprentice in an attempt to get the attention of said witch. He failed to account for the magick wards placed on said tome and ended up an ass. What book was it that you read to end up with such a similar fate?

Red: *hesitates for a moment, but when his tail twitches involuntarily he makes up his mind* Before I say anything, I need to ask. You don’t work for any museums or universities around here, do you?

Acrathia: *arches an eyebrow* I can safely say that I do not.

Red: *inhales through his nose and sighs before starting into his tale* I am a curator of ancient texts at… one of the museums in this city. Recently someone brought in a transcription of a Druidic manuscript carved in some kind of proto-Ogham alphabet on a set of standing stones found somewhere on the coast of Scotland. I have translated Ogham for the museum before, so I was asked if I could shed some light on what they had found. Things went wrong from there.

I couldn’t fully translate the text, but what I could manage to put together makes me think that focusing so intently on what I was reading and the fact that it outlined an ancient ritual has made me some kind of magic magnet. Case and point, I was invited to a house party last week. Turns out they were serving cursed punch that turned me into a donkey for a while. It’s still wearing off. *watches Acrathia’s face for a reaction* Crazy, right?

Acrathia: *listens in an interested yet detached manner. Though Red could swear that when he mentioned proto-Ogham runes, and now being a conduit of magic, her eyes almost glow with a baleful light. *

How fascinating... You say the punch was cursed, yet it sounds like due to you being a magic conduit you were the only one effected by said curse. How did the others react watching their colleague change into a donkey before their very eyes?

Red: *growing more uncomfortable at both recounting the memory and whatever trick of the light made Acrathia’s eyes appear so unnatural* That’s the thing. I wasn’t the only one. Just about everyone there had the same thing happen, but they all returned to their usual selves in the morning with no memory of what happened while I… well, they just assumed the party got out of hand and somehow a donkey got in. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, either.

I’ve been hexed, ensorcelled, blessed, and cursed just by apparent happenstance since I read the transcription. Spells meant for someone else are pulled to me, sometimes. Weirder still, I can’t get physically injured anymore. I don’t know if it’s a side effect of the Ogham ritual, or a blessing that was drawn to me, though. *he rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and shakes his head* But I do know that I’m tired of watching my back every minute of every day, especially when I don’t know what I’m watching for.

Acrathia: *listens very intently to what red is telling her* So the others were human again by morning and remembered nothing, where as you remained a donkey for longer and retained you full memory of said events. Not to mention your invulnerability... how very curious...

*thinks on this a moment, then looks back to Red, an eager gleam in her eye.* Very well then, hear my proposal dear boy. Take me to see this transcribed proto-Ogham script, and I will work to end your status as a magic conduit, or at the very least work to make your life as one more bearable...

Red: *drops his hand and looks up at Acrathia as if solving a puzzle in his head* That sounds promising, and if you can help I really do appreciate the offer, but I don't know how I'm going to get you into the archives without clearance.

Acrathia: *Looks at Red Mildly suspicious.* So eager to accept? You know nothing about this random woman you met at a bus stop. Is your life as a conduit so terrible that you are willing to leap blindly at the first offer for help? Or do you have some sort of scheme in mind?

Red: I’ll level with you, I’m terrified. I’m terrified of you and terrified of what might happen if you don’t help me. But there’s something in me… maybe it’s the magic or maybe it my own self-destructive curiosity, I don’t know, but I feel like it’s pulling me toward doing this. *he looks up with some of trepidation at the approaching bus* Does that make any sense?

Acrathia: *Gives a small approving smile* More than you can imagine. If we are to work together on this, you should at least know whom you are working with...

*her disguises fade as she reveals her usual form* I am Acrathia l, Dark Mistress of the Sidhe, Former Archmage of the now Disbanded Gloamering Court, and a bitter old hag who can't mind her own business...

Ooh, now this is a person I have to meet.

Doubtless we shall be drawn to him 'ere long.

Red: *instinctively shifts himself further down the bench at the unexpected revelation. His internal monologue slips out as his voice cracks with terror* I just made a deal with an archfae, didn’t I? Red, you absolute moron. *his tail suddenly retracts and his spine returns to its normal shape. He looks down, looks back up at Acrathia, and squeaks* Was that you, or the standing stones?

Red: *hiking and taking in the scenery, manages to trip on an exposed root. As he attempts to right himself his eyes fall on your unicorn form. He looks around, tubs his eyes, and when you’re still there he breathes:* You’re kidding.

*eyebrow raises...

A judgement made in haste when I hath not spake yet.

Red: Sorry. I… uh… I just didn’t think that unicorns were more than heraldic symbols. No offense. Humans are kind of out of touch with the realities of magic.

Acrathia: *Cackles a bit at his new found reluctance.* I did nothing love, it was likely the last traces of the curse leaving you. Allay your fears love, You have done nothing to offend me, and your sharp mind and inquisitive nature amuse me. I have no reason to deceive you or twist a bargain between us to end unfavorably for you... however...

*She approaches him and extends a hand, a bemused smirk on her face.* Let it never be said that I gave a mortal whom pleases me a fair chance. You never technically accepted my offer... If dealing with a fae unnerves you that much... I will give you the opportunity to walk away, no hard feelings... So love, what do you say?

Oh, never mind him. I had to learn the hard way myself.

Red: *squints, confused* Uh. Him?

Red: *brows knit together in mingled concern and hasty analysis of the situation. He reaches to take her hand, hesitates, then squeezes his eyes shut and does*

My other self. Long story. Short version is I used to be human so...

*looks closely...

...yes, I know all about this. Residual aura energies from having been transformed before.

So what brings you to the neck of these woods? I sensed a magical signiature I didn't recognise, so I had to track and check it out. Strong, but unfocused and undisciplined. Not that of a practitioner. But, you're human.

What be thy title, what be yon powers bestowed upon you, and how didst thou come by them?

Acrathia: *As their hands clasp, dark energy swirls around their joining appendages. Acrathia watches to observe if there is any unusual reaction to the application of magic in regard to his status as a conduit*

Red: *watches uncomfortably as the dark magic swirls in the air for a moment before quickly absorbing into his hand. He shivers involuntarily* I've never actually had a chance to see it happen. I've only ever felt it... *he draws his hand closer to himself and turns it over to inspect it*

Red: *smirks ruefully* Honestly, I was trying to get my mind off of this whole magic business... but I guess that's not happening today. I'm a museum curator specializing in ancient texts. I translated an old proto-Ogham transcription from a Druidic ritual and ever since I've been a magic magnet. Hexes, curses, blessings, creatures, you name it, if I'm in the area, they're either drawn to me or me to them.

Acrathia: The magicks do not usually enter the recipient's body like that, but It appears the pact is still in place. As for how I will get in to where the script is kept, just go about your normal business at work and I will follow you. No one but you will see or detect me, once we are where the script is, and no others are around, I will read this, and will work to determine its nature and how it effected you.

Red: *nods with brows anxiously furrowed* Thank you, Lady. I’m not entirely familiar with how far pacts work, but I’ll do my best to repay you. *he gestures for her to go ahead of him onto the bus out of polite habit, and then realizes that he probably looks unhinged gesturing to nobody. He clears his throat, blush rising in his cheeks, picks up his bag, and boards the bus*

Acrathia: *Proceeds to follow him onto the bus and sits next to him. She turns to speak to him* One thing that is picking at my curiosity is, did you or the party's host ever figure out where the cursed punch came from? Feel free to speak to me normally, I have assured that it will not look like you are talking to yourself to anyone here.

Red: *frowning ruefully* The host cursed it himself. He did it to give his friends a laugh. I know him from work; he’s a consultant from a university who helps out from time to time. I thought his name was Sydney, but I’m questioning everything about him now.

Acrathia: *Ponders the implications* I am assuming
He partook of the punch just like all of his guests? And like them became an ass for a night only to forget it all happened in the morning?

*brow starting to furrow at the implications...

So then that if I were to do, say, this... Summer Light.

*casts revitalising magic on a nearby tree that has shed its autumn leaves.

Red: *flinches as the magic is drawn instead to him. The spell does its work, infusing his body with vitamin D and giving him a healthier appearance. He opens one eye* That felt nice! Thanks for that. For a minute there I thought I was about to get a sunburn.

Red: He did, but a few of his friends didn’t. I don’t know who or what they were, but they left by magic right before sunrise.

*turns gaze from the leafless tree branches towards Red, brow furrowing more...

And this happens with all magic, in whatever form, in a wide radius around yourself? What's been done to you before?

*getting worried...

Put it this way... how are you still able to stand there before me, right now?

Acrathia: And what were the reactions of these friends of his to seeing all at the party but themselves turn into donkeys?

Red: *shrugs* Amused? It seemed like that was what they were there for.

Acrathia: *contemplative* I see... How very curious. I don't know enough about the situation to offer a concrete theory on the subject, but if I had to guess, it would be either they were magical beings of some kind, they thought it would be funny to actually curse the punch when your friend did the mock curse, and then proceeded to enjoy the fear and humiliation all gathered. That or, they some how knew your friend possessed the ability to cast curses and wanted to see the mayham afterward.

Red: That’s what I’m trying to understand. I don’t completely know. Something -either the ritual or some blessing that was drawn to me- keeps me from physical harm, which is the only reason I’m still here after everything that’s hit me, I think.

Red: *nods, still frowning* Either way, they’re not a group of folks I’d like to meet again. I think I’ll be keeping my distance from Sydney, too, for now. If he can do magic and he doesn’t mind taking risks like I saw at the party, I don’t want to get in harm’s way.

*apalled gasp, before nervous prance backwards, snorting with head held back with a fearful sideeye...

Hold fast!

But you know from me the history of my - his world - the weapons wielded to keep their fragile charade of 'peace' -

Look upon yon lad! He is but one man, a lock without a key. Think! Thou owest him thy honesty!

*shaking head clear...

Yes... yes, and sanctuary. There was that inkling, but it still caught me offguard - I've been in his position... still am.

*inhales and exhales, regaining poise, then trots back, looking Red closely all over and sniffing...

Thank the magicks. No farsight, no scrying, no influence upon you that I can tell. You're safe... as 'safe' as you can be, right now.

Acrathia: A wise choice. A practitioner of the art whom is unaware of their abilities is a dangerous thing on its own. Your situation makes it all the more difficult for you.

Red: At least I’m on the right track. *rubbing a temple* How many magic users are their now, anyway? It seems like I can’t throw a rock without getting bespelled.

Red: That’s good news at least. *still confused by the worrying reaction* I… did I say something wrong?

Lad, you really don't have the first idea of the kind of danger you unwittingly pose. An invulnerable magic magnet? You've become the ultimate 'human shield'. Imagine the havoc agents of chaos or evil could raise, especially in your world, if they were to get their hands on you. If you can be cursed you can also be coerced, charmed, controlled... be made to enter or get close to a legislative or commercial building, then a single destructive spell from a safe distance. Destabilise a nation as a 'suicide bomber' that can be used over and over again. Or ride as part of the vanguard of an invading army attacking by overwhelming force, that renders all defending magic-users helpless. Give you the right form, repellents and defensive spells, and you could be made into an unstoppable engine of war.

For your own sake, and that of possibly all the realms, you must allow me take you to a place of temporary security, at least until I and the High Magister can properly look you over and figure out how to adequately protect and defend you.

Red: *mouth falls open slightly and he stands silent for a few moments, not having grasped the potential threat he could pose until now* What the hell have I gotten myself into? *he squats to stabilize himself as a sudden feeling of faintness overtakes him and he covers his mouth*

*quickly paces over...

Here, lean on me, lean on me. Give yourself a minute. This is such a lot to take in.

*calls out

Cathal? Cathal! Job for you!

Hear me and arise, slumbering slugabed feline! Where art thou?

Acrathia: In the mortal realm it is not particularly common. The only magicks that come here are from outside influences, Fae, Demons, Celestials, and the like. And even then they have rules as to how they are to conduct themselves. I also do not know how close you would have to and said magic to be able to absorb it, so I am uncertain if more spells are being cast around you, or if you are absorbing them from a very long distance.

Red: *dies as he’s told, thinking of all the times he’d walked into public places without giving it a thought*

Cathal: *snoothly materializes from the shadows, eyes narrowed* No need to shout. *under his breath* Haughty horned high-horse.

Red: *nods* I’ve sort of experimented with that. *realizing how reckless that sounds, he clears his throat and colors a little* Like I said, my curiosity can be self-destructive at times. But I’ve gone into occult bookstores and gothic gatherings to see- I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at how much magic existed there, but I was- and the best I’ve been able to estimate is a radius of between fifteen and twenty feet.

Urgent assignment. Need-to-know basis. 'Red' here - I'm christening him that, so don't try and wheedle any 'favours' out of him - needs to be secreted in one of your little hideaway pocket dimensions. Then go and inform the High Magister an audience is required with him on vital magical matters, and report back to me. You can tell your Captain that I've insisted on you personally, and if he doesn't believe you, show him -

*conjures an official document, blinks, turns head to see it in Red's hands...

Oh. Give him that, would you?

*back to Cathal...

Have the High Magister sign the form as well, and it'll earn you a few more brownie points. That should keep you in warranted smugness for a bit.

Acrathia: *Smirks* You call it self destructive, I call it commitment. With the radius being that small, I can not help bit wonder if what you would call Occult beings are some how drawn to you in some way.

Red: *hands the paper to the unsettling talking cat as quickly as possible so as not to upset it further*

Cathal: *considers the situation with a raised brow* As you wish, Ambassador. *he eyes Red curiously before swiping a paw through the air and opening a portal for them both. Red is immediately sucked through it and it closes unbidden with a pop. Cathal looks at you, grumpiness replaced with concern* What in the realms was that?

Red: Or me to them. Or both. Given what you've said about how much magic there is and who wields it, that might be the only way to explain it.

Acrathia: Indeed, hopefully more can be discovered from the script.

*looking over my glasses...

Need. To. Know. Believe me.

*looking back up...

But I think we'd better head over to the Magister's together, you and I. The boy's going to be like a yo-yo if we have to keep opening and closing the portal. Bring the 'doorway' with us so there's a direct link to there.

Cathal: *fur raising in alarm, and swiping furiously at a portal that won’t stay open* Well, I am going to need to know why my dimension just collapsed in on itself if you want to pull Red out of the ether!

Red: Here’s hoping. *the bus comes to his stop and he leads Acrathia down a couple of busy city blocks to a large and stately museum. He passes through security with his ID, then into an employee elevator using a keycard, and then through a vaulted door with a thumb print. He carefully selects a white cardboard box from a shelf, takes out a tattered leather diary, and hands it to Acrathia*

This is what I tried to translate.

*Part of the proto-Ogham is obscured by age and water damage, but it reads, “For the —- of the Magicks and to return what has been taken, this willing soul is offered. May it be preserved to bear —— burden and settle all ——-.”*

*resigned eyeroll...

Well I'm not fully in tune with all the details myself yet. Remember how I keep describing myself in relation to the Sidhe; 'in a world used to stasis, that which is unique is the most dangerous'? Red is another 'unique' one. Honestly, suspended in the ether may be the safest place for him and us at present, but that isn't the point. I know what is happening with Red, and he gave me a brief cliff notes version as to how. I don't have the first idea why yet though, so it's imperative the Magister and I both get to check him over and figure things out between us. Otherwise...

*half-nonchalant lip blow...

Pfft. The usual, potential end of the world and all that. Nothing special.

You can tag the co-ordinates of the doorway along with us so it'll be in the right place when we do manage to open it again?

Cathal: *tail fluffing* A human. In the ether. I can assure you that unless he has no need to breathe, he is hardly safe! And I cannot open this damned portal!

Acrathia: *her eyes ow as she reads, and for the first time her mask slips and she looks stunned.* It worked... It actually worked...

*She looks at him attempting to put her expressionless mask back on but not entirely being successful* I thought all the magicks that went into my failed attempt were lost... when I saw your condition and heard of the region where the ruins came from... I didn't dare to hope... but there it is...

*Lightly touches his chest where his heart would be* In you...

*headtilts at Cathal, peering over glasses with expectant look, waiting a brief moment for the penny to drop.

Hell, then I've got to get in there and fish him out. Aetheric Lifelife.

*human spirit image wearing the glasses is projected, and for number of seconds the spirit and the body appear to strain at each other in a game of tug-of-war with an invisible rope.

'Tis amply secure. This be also a risky venture, think you not?

I don't believe so, not with a spell already cast, or we'd have felt some bleeding-off already.

*to Cathal...

Okay. I'm firmly tethered to my body, which will stay here. Rather than banging on the portal door, give me the protocols that would open the doorway back from the other end of the pocket dimension, if it were still there. Open a separate channel to the point in ether space the dimensional hideyhole would have correlate to, and pass this aspect through. I'll 'spacewalk' till I find Red, use the protocols and he'll pop straight through again. When he does...

*together -

...you must DO NOTHING.
Thou art to DO NOTHING.

I'll use the aetheric lifeline to draw myself back here from the other side once that's successful.

Cathal: *pacing* The dimension is in between this life and the next, and on the other axis, the space between the Sidhe and Mortal Realm. You must account for both when you tear open the fabric of our current dimension. That, and create a bubble-like seal to prevent Magicks and matter from bleeding into where they oughtn’t. There are no directional points in the ether, only cait sidhe instinct, so… *he creates a telepathic link, sending something between a feeling and a mental picture through to you* He should be right… about… there.

Red: *looks down, feeling his pulse oddly quicken beneath her fingers* This ritual… it was yours? *a torrent of questions come to his mind, but none of them find a way out. Instead, he finds himself distracted by the unsettling sensation that has got him into trouble so many times already, but never there, and never as potent; it is as if Acrathia’s hand and is heart are too particularly strong magnets, and he will need to struggle to pull away.* How do I make it stop?

And that sort of details is why I'm asking you to open a way through again. Plus, in this aspect, I possess no 'matter'.

OK, I have the position. If Red drifts, I know how I'm going to find him. I'm ready.

*deep relaxing breath, with no physical inhale...

Send me through.

Cathal: *flustered muttering as he opens
a separate portal while attempting to track the other* There. Go.

*runs and jumps through, the portal closing behind...

*finding self in a black void, with a weird sort of mental ambience, of airy vibrations playing in my mind. Attempts to call out for Red, but no 'voice' emerges...

*thinks* Damn. No sound in a vacuum. Should have expected that. I really hope there aren't other things that lurk here trapped between the two states of existence, that hunt with the element of surprise.

*holds spectral hand in front of face...

OK. At least I can 'see' in a fashion. Wavelengths of energy outside the normal visible spectrum that I can pick up, kind of like looking at my own aura. But for Red it's going to be pitch black. Got to get to him before his mental state collapses. Magic must be usable here or else portals through the ether wouldn't be able to open.

*concentrates, hands in a 'hadoken' pose, and creates a beam of light, sweeping around in all directions to see which way the ray is attracted towards.

*In the void the beam sweeps over a writhing cluster of monstrous shapes centered around a shivering Red who is curled in the fetal position. Several sets of eyes turn to "reflect" the beam. Some of the shapes retreat into the darkness, but others take a defensive pose like a predator defending a kill from vultures. There are roars, or, more accurately, vibrations of roars and screeches that ripple through the ether and tear at the heart.*

Acrathia: *Still looking at him with a sense of amazement* Yes love, this was my ritual. One that was designed to return The Magicks to the mortal world. The standing stone your friend had found was one of ten that I had carved designed to draw ample amounts of Mana and Aether to what I intended to be the new font of magic, or what you mortals call Stonehenge. I thought they were all destroyed when my ritual failed, but this one... this one must had been teleported by the magicks instead of destroyed, still clinging to its original purpose. By reading what was inscribed, and having a certain willingness to allow what was read to wash over you, you have become a conduit of magic...

*she thinks on this a moment then raises a hand to him. She is unsure if scanning magic will work on him, but she attempts to determine if the levels of magicks he is drawing in is remaining constant, of if he is gradually drawing more and more in*

*loud mental 'shout...'

Get away from him - you're not having him! Forced Resonance!

*Red's body, absorbing the magic, begins to vibrate, rising in intensity and sending out energy pulses, guided by myself along the same frequency range as the utterances from the monstrous shapes, rising higher and higher until it becomes a cocophany in unsympathetic sync with the shapes that threatens to tear them apart.

Red: *stands uncertainly, watching as her hand moves across him. The magic of her current scanning spell seems to be the only source he is currently drawing from, and the stream of magic, once entering him, meets its intended purpose but is also slowly siphoned out of him and into the ground by a long, thin tendril of what must be ley line* So I’m a conduit for magic. What does that mean, exactly?

*Several of the remaining creatures retreat at the painful waves, but the two largest of them remain, unmoved. One leers toward you, revealing a skeletal goat-like face before turning it back toward Red. Red continues to shudder, but now even more violently that the spell would cause. Suddenly, the shuddering ceases. He is still for a second before a blast of purple energy knocks back the entities and sends Red spinning toward you and the portal*

No time for questions... can't catch him... portal protocols - now!

*as Red draws close, the dimensional doorway to home spell is cast and Red is rapidly drawn to and through it in the same manner as before, closing this time with a soundless pop.

*quickly turning back to the malevolent shapes, a look of grim determination and hands blazing with power...

You want a magic snack? Try me. Nothing here now to hold me back, you'll find me a much tougher nut to crack without anything physical to attach to, and I'm going to be very unhappy if it appears Red's been mentally scarred when the mistake in sending him to this place was mine.

Goat-Headed Nightmare: *glides through the ether with its jaw stretched impossibly wide. As it gets closer, more of it becomes apparent. A mantle of brindle fur bristles below its chin down to its chest. Its arms are long, broad, and end in thick scythe-like claws. The rest of its long torso is furred, but it tapers off into a ghostly serpentine tail*

Unknown Nightmare: *circles silently, almost unseen save for its hulking silhouette, to prevent any possible escape*

Oh no you don't!

*back arched, arms outstretched, teeth gritted and hair standing on end, projecting a blinding sphere of light and crackling electricity around myself, widening it out past ten feet, the glare pushing at the monstrosities...

In the name of the White One, her Champion commands you back! Away!

*thoughtwave penetrating the ether seal, dampened but urgent, strain showing in the 'voice'...

Thou must returneth this instant! Thy magic use - no matter the happenings o'er yonder, thou art taking from the aether line - 'twill begin to fray!

Quickly, start pulling me out! I can't concentrate on that and defend myself at the same time from these - things!

'Things?' I canst not help if there beith no picture -

Then shut up and pull! Let me hold them at bay - just protect the line and get me out of here!

*the blazing energy sphere is dragged backwards towards the ether seam where the line protrudes through...

Acrathia: *Stares in amazement as the new ley lines is birthed* You dearest... are fare more than a conduit... you are the font... the font of magic I sought to recreate all those ages ago... You will usher in a new age of magicks...

Red: *mingled fear and wonder play across his face as he tries to make sense of what he’s being told* A font. I’m… so all of this magic, everything that’s hitting me… it’s being collected in me? Am I some rechargeable magical battery?

*Before the scanning spell completes, another, weaker source of magic is drawn to Red*

Sydney: *a portly gentleman with a head of thick silver hair and gold rimmed spectacles steps out from behind a set of shelves in the vault* You are far more valuable than that, boy. If you knew the potential that you possessed! I had to test you… I had to be certain… and oh, how you have proved yourself!

Red: *instinctively places himself between Sydney and Acrathia* Who are you really? No, better question, what are you?

Goat-Headed Nightmare: *with a voice like grinding glass inside your mind as it swipes at the sphere, leaking inky black into the brilliant magic* Your champions have no power here, Dreamer.

Unseen Nightmare: *rumbling, deep and loud as an earthquake* You are alone. Halved. *snaps it’s long bony crocodilian jaws at the fraying lifeline* About to be untethered. Tell us, are you afraid beneath all that blustering anger?

Acrathia: Among other immortals I am known as Acrathia, The Third Anomaly of Fate. However I doubt that title means much to you. Here on the mortal plane the greeks knew me as Hecate, or Circe depending on whether the encountered me on the mainland or on my isle of Aeiea. The Babylonians knew me as Erishkegal. The Slavs; Morana, the Norse; Hel, The Hebrews; Lilith The cultures you likely know the most of named me Morrigan, later changed to Morgana Le Fey by Arthurian times...

*Turning to look at Sydney* As for this gentleman, I was quite wondering that myself...

...That's it. I see through you now. You're night terrors, mere shadows of thought, reaching out when a sleeping mind is stressed and vulnerable, or a guilty soul is crossing the veil. You need and feed off that negative emotion just to exist.

*with renewed courage and more meditative calmness, reducing the sphere to just enough to illuminate with, and channeling the rest back into the line...

Not any more. Do push off will you, I have more important places to be.

*end-over-ends with hands, pulling self along the line, moving quickly towards the ether seam...

Bye now. Don't let the other bedbugs or my door hit your ass on the way out.

Mixing thy metaphors? At this time?

*chuckles* Hah, I knew that would baffle you.

Crocodilian Nightmare: You have it backwards. *its jaws sever the line in one deft motion*

Goat-Headed Nightmare: *beginning to wrap your human projection in its ghostly coils, and as it does you suddenly feel a tremendous and overpowering sensation of utter isolation* We bear our dark gifts for you to receive.

Cathal: *on the other side, growing more anxious by the minute as he hears only the unicorn half’s side of the exchange* Enough is enough. *glances at Red, who has come through wide-eyed, catatonic, and deathly pale, sucks a breath, and vanishes in a fraction of a second. He reappears within the void, digging his claws into your shoulder to anchor himself, and teleports the pair of you to other side of the seam*

Sydney: *removing the glasses* I know who you are, darling. *his form begins to shift, thinning and reshaping to reveal a smiling Moth beneath the guise* And you certainly know me.

Red: *looking from one fae to the other* You… she… what…??

*drops to the ground and sits there trembling, leaned back with hands propping self up. The unicorn-self trots up, looking over in concern...

*weak voice* Cathal?

*turns head to Cathal, gives a mock-cheery, sardonic but wild-eyed grin...

...You really should file a formal complaint against your neighbours.

Cathal: *lightly leaps down from the projection’s shoulder* And suffer their wrath? No thank you.

Red: *sits, arms wrapped around his legs, eyes locked in a thousand yard stare*

*nods at the other self towards Red, to go check him over, while standing up and 'dusting' myself off...

But you might have warned me before I went knocking. What's happened to your feline wits? There's a number of things you're not picking up on today.

*Reasoning* If you didn't tell me about those nightmare entity whatever-they-ares in the ether, then clearly you weren't expecting them to be there or show up. And that therefore means...

*To self* Ugh. There I go again. In my overconfidence, believing I can handle a situation by myself -

*Falls onto one knee, hand on forehead...

Oh, what have I done? Possibly allowed the very thing to take place that I was afraid of.

*Rushes over to the shivering Red...

Whatever may have happened to him, his mind needs time to relax and process the trauma. Pleasant Dreams.

*Red goes limp, and rolls onto this side on the ground, fast aleep...

Mana Shield.

*A forcefield glow surrounds Red's body...

We canst not know the potency of keeping magics away from the boy, 'ere we understandeth his condition to the fullest.

Other way round. Anything that might have sneaked into him, I want to keep from getting out.

And thou?

Too risky to reintegrate. I could end up inside him, and there's no telling what tangle that could cause. We need an escort, and a manual pair of hands. You do it - you're better at speeches.

*unicorn self nods, and stand aloft in an official manner...

Sire Cathal, by authority vested unto mineself by the Seelie Court, thou are hereby awarded the temporary rank of Master Sergeant At Arms, for the purpose of hither assignment, for however length be needed.

There. Now you have the status, the escort duty and the security clearance to be told everything that's been uncovered today, before anyone else. When this is also said and done, you should also report everything you witness to Captain Dubhgall aftward. If Red's soul is in the slightest danger, we'll need Dubhgall to watch over it.

Cathal: *confused at the shift in tone, but not displeased by it* You know, my people are capable of removing souls and binding them to ourselves. The latter part could be a problem, given his reaction to magic, but we could at least take him out of his body and put him in a non-magical vessel for his own safety.

Red: *body begins a slow tug-of-war with the forcefield, absorbing its magic little by little*

Nonono. Stop. You don't fully know what we're dealing with yet. It's not a simple reaction to magic. Red absorbs it. Any spells cast in his vicinity, he attracts them to him instead. Hence the portal and the document.

An attempt to bind the boy's soul wouldst have his own power bind thou.

What's more, there's some manner of invulnerability geas on him as well, he can - and has - withstood everything thrown at him so far. If I seemed a little blasé at first about him being on the other side of the ether wall, that was why.

But the other effect is how I found Red in the first place. Magical beings are also guided towards him, from a much further distance.

*apologetic expression...

And from that 'adventure' that you had to rescue me from just now, I don't think I need to explain to you what that means and why I wanted it kept as quiet as possible.

One small positive; when I say 'spells', that doesn't appear to cover 'natural abilities'; at least, ones that only involve oneself. So your teleportation is safe, as are my enhanced magical senses and instincts. On the other hoof, this 'split' technique that I employ, it's something only a mind like mine could perform but I had to develop and learn it as an entirely new skill. Therefore, I don't believe I want to use it, either out or in, in the same manner as yours. And even if your manipulation of souls is as normal to you as breathing, better not take any chances and actually touch him with it yet. The results could well be, ehhh.... 'unpredictable'.

Look. He's already starting to draw in the mana shield. Damn, that's quick. We don't have a lot of time to spare and we'll have to get to the High Magister on foot.

*lifts up a spectral shoe...

Not that any of us actually have feet.

Cathal: *circling Red with renewed curiosity* And what do you think he does with all that energy? Surely one mortal cannot hold so much magic indefinitely, indestructible or not.

And what happens if we touch him? Will he siphon away our magic while we carry him?

I hadn't thought about 'battery storage'. I'm so used to drawing from the 'infinite' source of the leylines. It shouldn't affect us, or he'd be sucking it from the leylines too and we'd definitely notice that effect. It's seeme to be only actively cast magic, not passive.

*unicorn kneels down...

Can you lend a hand to get him on my back? I can't physically touch him in this guise. You'd better sit and ride along with him, keep an eye of how long that shield's going to last and if it needs a top up before we reach the High Magister's domicile.

Cathal: *switches to his human form to lift and situate Red, and then back to his cat from to avoid you having to carry unnecessary weight* I sensed his soul just now, Ambassador. It feels connected to something. Tethered, almost.

Then we haven't a moment to waste. If you can keep him balanced, I'll go as fast as I can without risking him falling off. But first...

*strengthens the Mana Shield and casts a second one around the first for good measure.

Right. Let's be off. While we're trotting Cathal, tell me everything you know about those monsters in the ether - where they come from, their purpose in being there, the powers they possess, their intent, whatever else you can think of.

Cathal: *carefully keeping two paws on Red to keep him balanced* They are Nightmares. Most live in the ether, but some have been known to cross over into other planes during certain times of year. They create ominous feelings and illnesses within those they come in contact with, each kind causing a unique type of discomfort. Why they do, none know. They do not feed on it. Some even seem to avoid it if they can. I’m of the opinion that they are like fish in the ocean; all have developed defenses to keep from being eaten by something bigger.

And when they 'cross over', what happens?

*glancing at Red...

...They need a 'host'?

Cathal: No, no. No “possessions” or the like. They do their damage and move on, for whatever reason.

*both aspects stop and exchange looks.

Thou beith thinking what mineself be thinking.

For covention you're meant to phrase that as a question.

Yet there be no sense whence we both knoweth yon answer?

*rasises a pointing hand, stops for a second or two...

Can we stop straying from the point with another point?

*to Cathal...

I think I know where all that magic is going. Try something for me, but be careful. See if you can ascertain how strong the tether on Red's soul is, how long it's been there and anything else about its nature. From that, are you able to determine how powerful whatever's on the other end must be, and how old.

'Tis surely a flight of fancy leaping to thy expected conclusion thus soon.

I want to leave nothing to chance.... principally because nothing else about the Sidhe ever does. The powers above always provide a reason. At this moment, I can think of plenty.

Cathal: *closes his eyes and focuses for several moments as he attempts to do as asked. Finally he opens them, confused* He’s… he’s tethered to a branch of ley line. And it’s young. Months old, if that. I was unaware that new ley line networks could form. Stranger still, it moves below ground as he moves above it. In fact, it is following us right now.

That's... well odd. Tallies a little with what came to mind there; something or someone within him absorbing the magic and using it to recreate itself. Answers one question; with so much more potential in the existing ley lines, why not take it directly from those? But why should new lines form? For what reason? All that appears to accomplish is move a quantity of energy from one place to another. Magic can't just spring up from nowhere. ...Can it?

The more we're discovering, the less sense it seems to make - so far. But there's something we can do while on the move, and that's track the movement and effect of this newly-created anomaly as it follows us. At least we know Red himself isn't a direct danger. But if his 'influence' - whatever else that might be - becomes widespread, you and I might have to guard him with our lives.

*flash of insipration...

Oh. OH. I just had a thought...

If Red is somehow capable of creatinf new ley lines, suppose he could also 'repair' damaged or corrupted ones? It's encroaching decay as much as the threat of incursion that affects the Seelie borders. Picture what could be done if Red's power could give exhausted 'life essence' back to the Wild Magicks. Fix and take back Seelie territory that been steadily lost over the years to Unseelie magic abuse, or at least slow it down.

*unicorn self halts and headturns again with a looks of concern...

Problem?

Art thou hearing thyself?

Hm?

Thou art offering speculation as to the utility of the lad's power.

Yes, to hopefully safeguard the future of the Sidhe.

Whilst the boy lies astride on our back, asleep in an ill state, in no wise able to be consulted or ask. Yet thou speaketh of him as like a tool to be used.

...Shit. I hadn't give it even a single thought. If temptation gets through to me that easily, then how are others drawn to him from afar going to covet that power?

Cathal: *tail twitching contemplatively* For the greater good? I could see use of him. Save for the High Magister, you might even sway the Court to your thinking. But the Dark Midwife of the Unseelie Territories… she most likely has some like him and a few besides, blood magic and changelings and all. Best to tread lightly until we’re sure. I wouldn’t go through the High Seeker. He’s a pompous fool. His protégé, however, might be helpful.

Careful about changelings, that subject's still a little -

*snort* Were he such, his blessings from harm wouldst hath been more surely tested.

*sigh* ...delicate.

High Seekers and blood magic. Somehow I keep coming back to that. The chase after Moth has gone on so long, I can't quite tell if the current High Seeker is just really bad at his job and easily led from the right path by Fate, or really really good at it and purposefully withholding what he discovers because he understands what'll happen if certain paths cross. Who is his protégé though? I keep my distance from in-depth court matters when I can, I have much grander powerplays between influential figures that I have to stay on top of.

Which brings me back to the blood magic part. Are you suggesting blood magic could create a potential such as Red there? He mentioned something about deciphering text from a ritual, but he's just a linguistic scholar.

The boy's aura revealed no falsehoods.

Blood magic is forbidden because it requires a sacrifice. That's all I know about it, and you're the first person to willingly bring it up themselves without being evasive. I wouldn't dare make enquiries to the Court, that's probably an offense in and of itself. But there are things I need to know. Other events related to blood magic that are being guided by pawns of Fate, that I need to come up with some kind of workaround plan so that preset events in the fatelines still happen, but not in the way that benefits the darker powers at war with the light.

I think you can work out who and what I'm talking about, can't you.

Let me ask a couple of questions. What are the limits to blood magic, in what it can perform? And what relevance is the 'sacrifice' to the desired outcome? The more powerful and personal the intent, the more personal the 'sacrifice' has to be?

Cathal: *tail fluffing uncomfortably* If you are that easily disturbed by changelings, perhaps I ought not introduce you to the Seeker in training.

*sighs, staring up between the branches of passing dryas* Blood magic. Where to begin? It is as versatile as the magic you and I are privy to, but, as you say, it requires sacrifice. It is also forbidden because the majority of it perverts the natural way of things. Death? Twisted into miserable unlife. Love? Turned into strangling chains that bind one to another so painfully that they daren't try to leave. Healing? A parasitic practice by which one's disease is siphoned into another. Whatever application you can think of, blood must be spilled and someone involved must suffer dearly. The lifeblood and surge of negative emotion creates a potent magic, but an ill one. And, as you say, the more the sacrifice will hurt, the more powerful the resulting magic is. It draws potency from pain.

I bring up the similarity between our friend here and the changelings because they are often used like living "batteries," I believe you have called them. They are the perfect blend of untapped magic and unsullied blood. When they wander home to the wrong part of the Sidhe, they would be better off dead than in the hands of a blood magic practitioner. The Dark Midwife prefers these when she cannot find humans to use up and discard. The more lost, alone, confused, or innocent, the better fodder they are.

So. The 'blood' part isn't the only suffering, and Mab has no shortage of 'test subjects'. That man wouldn't need to supply one that's personally close to him. And that makes it all the more awkward because there's still the question of why Mab should go along when there's nothing for her to gain from honouring the agreement, and our man isn't a fool.

Damn. A thought had started to emerge - purely a hypothetical - wondering what might happen if a blood magic sacrifice were to be attempted on a body immune to physical harm that magnetically disrupts how spells are cast. Could the 'blowback' be enough to possibly end Mab herself. But if I'm understanding you, that's not quite how it works and definitely not how it would go down. No lure, no 'trap'; Red must be kept out of Mab's hands at all costs. And this practice, once I'm able and permitted, has to be stopped, changelings or not.

*to other self*

Look. We all know how our natural-born kin reacts to the practice of creating a changeling and the cost and loss of innocence involved. Even as a human I would never call the disgust unwarranted. But now there's a choice to be made - a 'dilemma' you have to resolve because now it's going to start impeding us otherwise. I've felt you dodge an issue by seperating a 'crime' from whomever our form's instincts and principles tell you the 'criminal' should be. However Puck is right - you have to ask yourself what's more important, 'avenging' an atrocity that person may not even know they owe their existence to, or halting the practice of sustained torture on a more immediate and larger scale from one place. You have to practice getting over this.

Cathal: Agreed. It is an insult to proper magic and should not be tolerated. As for putting “getting over” the changeling aversion into practice, it is my humble opinion that we ought not put the Seeker’s possible successor in the path of being gored by an overwrought Noble… perhaps starting smaller would be most profitable… like speaking with the High Magister’s assistant. We need to pay the Magister a visit anyway.

Well, I can always speak to him like this. But my other self is always silent and sullen when he knows I'm ultimately right.

'Twould be appreciated to reciprocate.

Cathal: I shall leave the decision to your discretion, then. I shouldn’t think that—

Red: *suddenly shudders as the barrier spell is swiftly depleted and the sleep spell is similarly absorbed. His eyes fly open and he screams*

What the hell -

*startles, whirls round to the source of the noise. Unfortunately so does the other self in the body, and Red and Cathal are both suddenly flung off the back...

Cathal: *tries to gain purchase on the trunk of a nearby tree with a feline yowl*

Red: *lands hard on his back but doesn’t flinch, instead he sits up and rubs his temples* It was so dark… why was it so ungodly dark? I feel so cold…

*unicorn body trots up and sits down beside Red, huddling him for warmth...

*human image rubs a furrowed brow, trying to think of a way to explain that isn't going to be too upsetting...

What... did you feel in there? What did you experience?

Red: *huddles in grateful for the body heat* Everything awful. Apathy, loneliness, fear, cold, hunger, anger, hopelessness… *the shuddering resumes, but this time from the memory* Worst was the purposelessness. It was so intense and so convincing. That was terrifying.

Did you also hear anything? Voices? What did they say?

Red: Voices? I heard a lot of strange noises, if that’s what you mean —roaring and screeching and growling— but there weren’t any words. It was just all of this noise and these awful feelings in the dark.

*thinks* The nightmares don't 'reveal' themselves until you acknowledge them? Or can actually see them. More significantly, the ether operates outside of the magical laws that Red has found himself subject to, which is fortunate for us.

*to Red* What happened was... well, you didn't simply go through the portal to a pocket dimension like you were supposed to. Your magnetism drew the portal in with you. Turned it inside-out - sort of - and you were dropped into the empty space between dimensions. But you're safe now. Had a job getting you out again - I could elaborate but I'm, well, lacking substance at the moment.

Red: I think that’s about all I can handle, anyway. This whole magic-magnet situation is still new to me and it’s hard not to get overwhelmed. Thanks for explaining what you have, though.

Cathal: *climbing down from the tree and resuming his composure* I wonder at this sudden surge in his magical pull… we are close to a leyline. Perhaps the draw is stronger the closer our friend is to the receiving end of the siphon?

*gesturepoints*

That's a smart piece of thinking there. Never occured to me to check for other leylines. I should be noting all this down, this is exactly the kind of detail the Magister would want to theorise and experiment with.

Hmm...

Extrapolating that further, perhaps Red's 'beacon' attracting magical beings works in inverse proportion to the level of magic surrounding him in any given place. If there's none around, which there normally shouldn't be where he's from, it reaches out further to locate and tease other sources towards him.

I found Red by his magical signiature, but that's a natural unicorn ability over a wide area anyway.

Red: *from his cozy huddle with the unicorn aspect* I think you’re right about that. It can’t be that much of a coincidence that I’m always in the way when someone is casting a spell at something else, or faeries decide to show up. I live in New York, for heaven’s sake! That’s not some magical hotspot is it?

Cathal: I have heard rumors of some Stricken having been sent to the eastern coast across the sea, but certainly not that many.

Red: ‘Stricken’?

Cathal: Those banished from the Sidhe territories. It is akin to your solitary confinement.

Red: You know about that?

Cathal: *casually licking a paw* One gleans information when stealing damned souls.

Red: *silently recoils*

Cathal: *scoffs* Calm yourself. I do not do that anymore. *pauses* I take that back. It’s exceedingly rare that I do that anymore.

*to Cathal* What manner of 'Stricken' would we be speaking of?

*to Red* I've been to New York once. Long time ago, before all this happened to me. Manhattan to be precise. And you know what? That grubby-but-lived-in way it's depicted in media like Sesame Street, Ghostbusters, old Marvel comics; that's EXACTLY what the place felt like. Like a comfortable old shoe. Now I have to wonder if said exiles might in some way have influenced New York fiction, since that juxtaposition between the mundane and the supernatural always seems to work when set there, and everyone in said stories takes it more or less for granted.

Cathal: *tail swishing in recollection* I recall a handful of boggarts, a pair of shellycoats, a hob or two, maybe a gancanagh… nothing else of much consequence. And Stricken are strictly monitored after a fiasco with one of the shellycoats cursing mortals, so there is little danger of them combining their talents.

Red: *nodding* You may have a point. I never considered that it may hold as much charm for magical creatures as it does for humans.

*pats forehead...

In all this kerfuffle, I don't recall if this was actually asked. The 'magnetism' draws magical sources and being to cross your path. But how close do they have to be for spells and the like to affect you? Anything that's happened out of the blue that you couldn't see coming and have no idea where it came from?

Red: *frowns* That’s most of the time. I don’t really know how to see magic coming or what to look for. I went to a party and ended up a literal jackass because is some spiked punch. It was a work party. With people I knew. That kind of thing blindsides me all of the time.

As for how close I have to be, I’ve experimented a little. Whatever this is has a radius of between twenty and thirty feet.

And that's in a world that doesn't have a natural high level of background magic.

...OK, I'm going to try a quick experiment. You stand there, and I'll gradually back away while casting a number of small, harmless spells that disspiate quickly. We'll see what the attraction radius is as I walk away.

*casts a glow spell at a tree from about twenty feet distance.

Red: *watches as the spell veers from the tree to be absorbed, and turns his glowing hands over to examine the effect as it spreads*

Further than that then. OK, let's try fifty.

*dispells the current glow spell, walks backwards a number of paces, casts it again.

*Though the spell is not drawn straight to Red, the magic stops, suspended between him and the target as if they are two equally powerful magnets. After a few moments, Red’s expression goes blank and he moves like a sleepwalker just close enough to the spell to absorb it. He blinks, shakes his head, and looks back at the unicorn aspect in confusion when he realizes that he is not where he was previously*

Ooh. Your attraction doesn't like equillibrium and overrides to compensate. Eesh, wouldn't want that to happen in New York City, walking into traffic like that.

OK, let's try further. About seventy feet. Go back to where you were standing and I'll move back some more.

*waits till we're both ready, then casts again.

*Red resumes his position and the spell reaches its intended target, but the tendril of leyline below his feet pulses hungrily, and perceptibly to both you and Cathal, at the missed magic*

I think we've found our safety radius and how it works. The higher the level of latent magic, the greedier your attraction gets. Theoretically one might be able to starve it to death over time if you were, say, on the moon; but that's hardly an ideal solution, is it.

*gesturenods to the unicorn body which trots over, glasses float back onto the muzzle and the ghost image merges inside, the body shaking its head.

That's better. 'Fingers' are nice, but I much prefer the physical sense of touch and a proper flowing heartbeat.

Red: *nods, attempting to picture what that separation must be like* Can’t say I’d be comfortable without a heartbeat, either.

*he scratches his stubble in thought* You said we might starve this condition to death. If I were to somehow keep within the “safety radius” for a long time do you think this would stop? And if so, how long do you think it would take for it to starve to death?

Eh... I guess I was more thinking out loud about potentials, not practicalities. If it even 'worked' at all. You know Watchmen? You know how Doctor Manhattan exiles himself at the end? It would be like that.

We've got to understand how this came upon you, why and for what purpose, before we can start planning properly.

Red: *deflates a little at the prospect* Well, a guy can hope. Maybe this Magister of yours has better news.

Cathal: He often does.

I've been engrossed in this role for somethine like forty-five years now, give or take. Gets hard to keep track of with the time differential. But compared to the Magister, I'm just a neophyte, or an acorn.

Red: *raising his eyebrows* How old is this Magister?

Cathal: He said he had seen something like 5,600 years at his last seeding party. There are some dryads older than him in the Sidhe, but not many.

Red: Dryads? As in tree spirits? *he suddenly becomes very conscious of the trees around him. One waves a friendly branch and he swallows hard before waving in return*

Dryads are nice, quiet, friendly folks. Good neighbours.

Acrathia: *stares in utter disbelief as Lady Moth reveals herself.* You did this... you completed the ritual...

*she is silent for a long moment until a black tear falls from her left eye, she catches it before it hits the ground and walks past Red to Lady Moth. She holds out her open palm with the now crystallized tear as an offering to Lady Moth. She ultimately appears composed, but there is an undoubtedly shaky element to her voice conveying how utterly moved she is by Moth's gesture*

I have no greater gift to give than this... The tear of an underworld deity... In the past it was used as one of the most potent reagents in the most powerful of resurrection rituals... I will be honest when I say I know something of his place in the afterlife... And I am uncertain if this will work... but if it does not... know that I will spend my days working to reunite you with whom you have lost... one way... or another...

(Sorry about how long this one took. Could not think of a good enough reaction to what Moth had given her until now)

(No worries! I threw you a pretty big curveball. But, truth be told, it hasn't completely curved... yet.)

Moth: *eyes widening and tearing at the gesture* Acrathia, I... I don't know what to say... *she reaches toward the tear and Red suddenly intercepts, once again placing himself between Acrathia and Moth*

Red: Something's wrong. I can't explain what it is, but the magic feels off.

Moth: *golden eyes flashing a hungry green for a split second before resuming their previous tearful expression* Darling, I have killed for what Lady Acrathia is offering me. Twice. Now is not the time to stand in my way.

Cathal: *quietly* But awful gossips at times.

*later, at the Magister’s faerie mound*

Umund: *waiting outside in his dryad form, basking in the sun* There you are, Ambassador, Sir Cathal, and… Red, is it?

Cathal: *bows* Magister.

*to Red* What did I tell you?

Red: *follows Cathal’s example and bows as well* Yes, sir.

*respectfully headnods* Magister.

Word doth travel with speed, it seemeth.

How much of our current escapade have you been made aware of? The shifts in the leylines you would feel through the soil ought to have told you much, I would think.

Acrathia: *Looks to Red, her composure regained, but briefly flashing concern in her ancient eyes* Chthonic tears do not shed idly. This has been but the third time in my ancient existence that I have done so. There is purpose behind this and that purpose I know is meant for Lady Moth...

*Looks to Moth her concerned expression renewed.* Yet I would not completely disregard The Font's warning. As I said, I know something of where his soul resides, and while I do not believe Fate will permit me to tell you, I can say that it is entirely possible he is beyond even this. Please my friend... be cautious in its use... If it even begins to feel that you are pushing against something you should not, listen to it. I swore that one way or another I would see you reunited, if not by this, then some other way...

Red: Lady Acrathia, I know I'm out of my depth, and that you know far more about magic than I ever will, but if that tear is as powerful as you say, you shouldn't give it to her... him... whoever this is. *a crackle of purple-pink energy escapes him and he clutches his head in pain. He speaks as if to himself* I'm trying! Don't do that.

Moth: *a momentary look of discomfort crosses her face before she resumes her aggressive posture* I'm warning you one last time, Red. Step aside or--

Red: Or what? You'll kill me like you killed the others before? *nerves causing his voice to break* W-well, go on and do it, then.

Moth: I--

Red: You can't, can you? You don't know how. *another crackle, and he closes an eye in pain* You don't have that love or anger to draw from. You never felt it. You're not who you say you are.

Moth: *to Lady Acrathia, growing more visibly uncomfortable but trying to hide it behind an irritated huff* Would you mind if I muzzled him?

Umund: I know that there is an anomaly in your friend, here. I have felt the shift in the leylines, yes, and heard about your trip into the ether. *he gestures around at the trees* You had a curious audience, you understand. But what piques my interest is the mystery surrounding the how of what has happened to Red. Please, come inside and make yourselves comfortable. We have much to discuss. *he leans in to Cathal and speaks quietly* Do have young Bearach leave from the back door with some haste, please.

Acrathia: *Looks to Red disquieted and torn.* I understand your concerns, but Lady Moth has just given me that which I have desired most for millenia. She has returned Magicks to the Mortal Realm, she has given hope to the witches I am queen of. I can think of no other way to balance my scales, for The Art is unkind to those who take with giving and give without taking. She has given that which I desire most... and I must give her what she desires most in return... If you or they which speak through you have another option... please speak it now.

*she looks to Moth, her expression deeply concerned.* I can only hope that I do not push too hard against the boundaries of Fate by saying this, but when I spoke with The Hand, I was given the distinct impression that the path you are on now... The one you were on before I offered my tear, would lead you to a greater connection to Costa than you have ever known in these realms. I fear now that I am ruining that for you by offering you this tear... It is yours by right... but I beg you to consider it carefully before proceeding...

Red: I… she… nnng! *the magic surges one more and in the energy that flares flamelike from Red’s hunched form. Through the lens of the “flames”, Moth’s visage flickers to that of a grey coarse- skinned creature; a boggart*

Moth: *looking down at the anguished Red* I had been impressed, darling. But it seems this magic is too much for you. *she deftly step around him to face Acrathia directly* I will take your advice to heart. But you of all people know how much I would risk just to see him once.

Before we go in, you don't happen to have any researches or experiments taking place in there right now? Or any latent spells? Red's proximity in that event might be interesting to watch but it's not likely to be safe.

Umund: Mere book study at the moment. Though there are some talismans and artifacts that might empty into another vessel if pressed to. Give me just a moment to have them removed… unless you think they could be beneficial to better understanding his condition?

Acrathia: *her face turns stern, but an inferno of rage burns behind her eyes. She pulls back her hand with the tear in it as she quickly casts a spell to block Red's absorption of magic and casts a spell of revealing shape changer's true forms on the imposter. Once the boggart is revealed, Acrathia grows in size to tower over the being. She speaks evenly but it is clear her rage is barely contained.*

Explain yourself...

From the data I've gathered myself, I don't think that's entirely how his 'attraction' works. Natural abilities may be amplified by the signiature he generates but otherwise aren't affected, so anything 'dormant' - potions, books, talismans - that aren't in current use ought to be safe. It's when and how they're activated that would cause an issue, plus he tells us he has a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time when such things are in use.

Boggart: *cowers, clutching a necklace strung with bloodied finger bones, a calling card of the Dark Midwife* Just orders, Lady. I was meant to see what the font could do…

Acrathia: *Lifts the boggart in the air magically and holds it in place. Causes the necklace to float off its neck and hover before Acrathia* Tell me of your mistress. What interest does she have in the font?

*slowly raises head, staring into the distance as wheels turn in my head, leading to uncomfortable conclusions...

Oh my lord. "Active magic and spells"... "Wrong place at the wrong time"... "Dark Midwife, High Seeker and blood magic"... "Doesn't like equilibrium and gets hungrier the greater the latent magic"... Is it possible? That the lynchpin to a conundrum of fate I've spent years trying to figure out, a key event so long in the making that has to play to its conclusion, has been dropped in our laps?

Umund: *pauses* It seems that my favorite gossips have missed some important pieces to this puzzle. What do the Dark Midwife, High Seeker, and blood magic have to do with this?

Boggart: *struggles, and gropes for a memory to use against Acrathia. The anti-shifting spell prevents it from completely taking the form of The Teacher*

Not the current High Seeker. The former one. His own 'quest' and how far he would go to make it happen.

*somewhat gravely * Magister, Cathal, if you two could take Red inside and make your introductions please... I don't mean to appear rude or inscrutable but I think I'm 'needed' for an impromptu conference. I'll be as quick as I can.

*gallops off into the trees, deep enough to be out of thought-transference 'earshot', and concentrates, projecting a mental channel...

White One? White One, I must see and speak with you. You know I would rarely attempt to ask - I always try to resolve a situation myself, that you aren't seen to be involved - but I sense the threads shifting and aligning in a major way, and I need guidance. A node point that I've been anticipating since the duel with the Storm looks like it finally draws near on a grand scale and cards are about to be played.

*A mote of white light slowly grows and defines until the White One’s doe form stands before you. Then, beside her, lightning strikes and the Storm appears.*

White One: *looking a little put out* Apologies. I could not prevent my brother’s coming.

Acrathia: *has the creature fall to the ground and keeps it pin their. She Looms over him and places her long sharp black claw of her index finger on his chest above his heart. She presses it in enough to cause discomforts, but not enough to draw blood. Somehow, the inferno behind her glowing eyes grows, the boggart almost expects it to explode.*
Humiliation is not an emotion I wear well... you tricked me into believing that Lady Moth had done the greatest boon I could ever ask for... I can assure you, not many have tricked me and lived to tell the tale... and now you seek to press your luck by insulting me further by using a deeply personal memory against me.

I will ask you... One... *taps her nail hard against its heart* final...*taps again* time... *taps again* Tell me of your mistress and why she has taken an interest in The Font?

Boggart: *squeezing its eyes shut* I cannot.

Red: *opens an eye as the flame from the leyline subsides and sees Acrathia in her rage-filled larger form. He murmurs to himself* What did I bring into this museum?

*taken aback...

Two of you. I knew if I called and you actually responded that would be serious enough, but this...

*to the Storm* And you're here because you know where this talk is going to lead to, the subject I'm going to broach. The one that was touched upon those years back when your brother was expelled from me. Is he aware of this? Watching us?

*to the White One* It's all coming to a head, isn't it? Allegiances are being redefined and the boundaries blurred, ready for a major powerplay that the Vile One intends to win, even if it means having lost sway over one of his most major pieces. Light and dark are mixing into multitude shades of grey. Here on the ground, pragmatism is winning over ethics... *headdroops* ...something I may have been guilty of myself with unforeseen consequences to follow. Especially with a new Shard suddenly thrown into the game.

But this my point. Where does this leave me? How am I expected to conduct myself as your Champion when it's that much harder to determine now which side is which without committing a major mistake?

Thou must show more respect to our benefactor.

I am. I'm questioning. The White One needs an independent agency, not a fawning lackey.

Storm: *chuckles* My brother? He is always watching wherever he can. Happily, his attentions are elsewhere, and he cannot see all things at once. No, indeed, my interest in this affair is the utter chaos that Red has wrought. He has proven worthy of my blessing simply by virtue of becoming what he has become. I should like to appear to him directly, but I think that would do more harm to him than good after today's events. Ordinarily I wouldn't care, but... he is swiftly becoming a favorite of mine.

White One: *calmly* Red is not the first of his kind, nor will he be the last. Certainly, his introduction to the tapestry will wind some knots in your strand and others, but it is not he that will cause the great upheaval to come.

You are doing well as my Champion in keeping him safe. It is all I ask and expect. Keep him away from the grasping Unseelie where you can, but expect that you will not always be there to do so. Small magical inconveniences are going to be part of his life from now on. The one thing that must not be permitted to pass is the removal of the deep magic upon Red. He is intrinsic to the health of the Grey and Seelie territories. They will need all of their strength in the conflict to come.

Acrathia: *her expression softens only slightly though the fire burns just as intensely*

Bound by a geas? Or some other magicks? No matter... I have other ways of finding the information I desire.

*She presses her nail deep into the creatures heart, but pulls it back swiftly, causing the creature only a moment of agony. Once her nail is removed the creature is healed as though she never punctured its heart. She takes her nail still wet with its heartblood, and licks the crimson ichor clean. Her eyes flare red for a moment as information on the creature and what it knows of his mistress fills her mind*

*pondering...

So. Red is not 'fated' to be the vessel in the attempt to restore Oberon. That's a crumb of comfort at least. I had figured that you've been staying Goodfellow's hand until some other event or plan was put into place, likely involving myself. But then it suddenly struck me, that Red was the Shard that fate was waiting for. At least that particular concern can be crossed off the list. Still, so many questions...

I know you're not permitted to explain matters of fate directly on our plane, but I can put forward a theory and extrapolate, based on whether you then answer 'yea' or 'nay'. To wit:

The last time the Tapestry was torn apart was when the Vile One intervened at a critical moment and Oberon and Titania were slain. Logically therefore it stands to reason that under normal circumstances, if the King and Queen could be restored, put back and reinstated as they were, that would be instrumental in reweaving the Tapestry as it ought to be again. But the key phrase is 'under normal circumstances'.

How much of this is accurate?

Boggart: *writhes fruitlessly in terror when his blood reaches her tongue*

*The Dark Midwife’s voice echoes in Acrathia’s mind: “Compare his worth to that of my changelings…” “I must know how long he can retain magic…” “Learn where the magic is siphoned to and report to me…” “This could well be the key to ending my exile. If you talk or if you fail, my wrath will burn you to ash!”

Boggart: *gives an ungodly wail as it combusts on the ground*

Red: *seeing this, bolts for the vaulted door*

White One: *expression becoming wistful* Were it possible to restore the King and Queen without the use of impure Magicks, perhaps, but this is not possible. Not now.

The Storm: Why does this grieve you, sister? *he puts a hand on her shoulder* You know as well as I that it is the way of all things. Destruction and renewal. It is beautiful.

The White One: *leans against his side with a sigh* But it is also sad and frightening. You do not understand loss as mortals do… as I do.

As good a way as any of stating these are not normal conditions or circumstances.

*paces...

And the burning question still remains. Why should Mab agree to this blood magic endeavour with Goodfellow? What could possibly be in it for her, should it succeed? With the amount of power required that Goodfellow has described, Mab cannot help but finish up in a weaker position, both politically and in resources. And I know what Goodfellow's real identity used to be now, I finally worked it out for myself, and oh, the chip on his shoulder that he's more than willing to share about you. Moreover, while his reckless and frivolous nature as Pan hasn't changed, he is not a fool. He would not let himself be caught without a backup plan to prevent Mab from usurping everything that he wants. So why should the pair of them both participate in such an obvious stalemate?

There's only one plausible answer. The Vile One intends to involve himself again, pull at another moment of weakness in the threads, rip apart the fragile repairs that have so far been managed and all sorts of untold damage on top of that. Ultimate control of 'Oberon' and everything he could command, channel or wield. That has to be his play.

*facing the Storm, stiff-posed with head held aloft and sterner eyes, but adopting a quiet, even-toned manner and voice...

Don't assume I'm finished questioning you yet either. The great quake which tore the Verdant Hills asunder and succeeded in shattering the alliance between the Noble Races, I know all about that as well. What's done is history and well before my time, but was that your doing or your brother's? Did he somehow force your hand in some way?

White One: You know that I cannot tell you of what is to come between those two strands. Nor can I speculate about our brother's involvement until we convene about what must be done.

The Storm: *raising an eyebrow* Oh, that? My hand was forced, indeed, but not by my brother. The Shadow and I were made to weave that part of the tapestry by the Master himself. The alliance was meant to break. Just like the King and Queen, the Nobles must also endure destruction and renewal. If you are fortunate, you will see the renewal.

Acrathia: *frowns at the death of the boggart* pity...

*She watches Red run out impassively. Once he opens to doors, he sees her normal sized leaning against st a nearby wall, casually examining her fingernails.* Leaving so soon?

*thinks* That all but sounds like a 'yes' to me.

*to The Storm* You'll have to forgive my skepticism then when so much else, like the Seelie Court, is falling apart without any assistance.

*to The White One* I understand. This is why you let me remain independent. Can you at least tell me one thing though? Why do you keep Puck away from his son? I've been forced - well, not exactly 'forced' to get involved, but the more I discover for myself the more collateral damage I find needs fixing. I have to keep my own watchful eye on Nico and Bella's situation, innocents being caught in the crossfire. And sooner or later if she carries on like this, Moth is going to mess with somebody too close to Azura, give herself away and then everything blows up. I genuinely do not know how much longer Azura can bear the pressure within her without snapping.

Red: *hyperventilating* What the hell happened in there? What was that thing and why did you set it on fire? I know... somehow... that it was bad, but that bad?

White One: You have not yet witnessed the raw power that comes from the mixture of human Heart Magic and fae Magicks. It is intensely destructive if uncontrolled. The young flame does not understand what he is capable of, but his father would teach him. It would be catastrophic. This is why they must never meet. The fraying of the strands you protect is difficult now. Think of how much worse it would be if they were burned away.

The Storm: Think what you like. Personally, until the sundering of the Verdant Hills I thought the Noble races profoundly boring. They were not irrational and exciting like the fae. They had their little quarrels, but those were always short-lived. Something important needed to be broken for their bond to crumble, and so, I helped to break it.

*'urgh' face* Mate, I expect 'profoundly boring' should have been the entire point. Oy, I bet you're a riot at dinner parties.

*to the White One* Does Puck realise all this? He really thinks you have it in for him, you know. But what am I to do about the potential bomb blast that is Azura? She was one of your key players... I don't know now if she still is. Nobody can force her to face her own dilemma, and I'm not sure she even listens to anyone any more. She can't simply be deposed because then there are no loyalties holding her back from going rogue. And the resentment that would bring... if she were to ever get her hands on Moth's bell -

*to the Storm* Yeah, you'd love that.

The Storm: Again, it was not my decision, whether I agreed with it or not. *smirks* Do you think that is why I never get invited?

White One: No. And I am to be the scapegoat to ensure he does not. It is a role I have accepted.

Azura's strand is now obscured to me. She is no longer mine, but my sister's. The majority of us agree that she must not intercept the bell--

The Storm: *holding up his hands* Me being in agreement as well, so there is no confusion.

White One: But it must also follow a particular course before this conflict comes to an end. This part of the tapestry is out of your hands and hooves. It is where the cursed must tread, instead. You have more pressing matters among the lords of the Noble races.

Wait - the 'cursed'? ...Do you mean Moth's own victims, or - *blinks* - this is to do with Medoro's little scheme. Oh, I hope he's placed his faith well and hasn't bitten off more than he can chew.

There was a long meeting of minds between Skurl and myself, and his library and skrying through the Eyrie's dimensional intersections yielded a lot of very valuable unknown history to the pair of us. Much more amiable than anticipated too. The reception from the Scale Mother, that remains to be seen.

Acrathia: I am not the one who incinerated to poor creature. His mistress did that to him for being unable to conceal her secrets from me.

Acrathia: To answer your question, that was a boggart, A creature that feeds of one's memories and shapeshifts to manipulate people to get what it wants... or worse...

Red: *putting things together as the situation becomes more apparent* And you... you just went scary dragon lady on him to protect me?

White One: *with a small smile to her eyes* He is a clever dog.

I cannot speak of what is to come of your meeting, but, if my brother does not protest, I may tilt the scales in your favor...

The Storm: Oh? And what would you offer me dear sister?

White One: Though you favor him, Red is mine due to his mortal lineage.

The Storm: You would give him over to me? Over shiny stones?

White One: No. I would grant you two audiences with him.

The Storm: *eyes narrowing shrewdly* This is acceptable... for your part. What of you, Storm-Breaker? My sister bargains for your benefit. Surely you want some say?

Acrathia: That was a large part of it, but I will confess that my injured pride also had something to do with it. I am a being who is rarely deceived, the fact that miserable little parasite was able to do so enraged me. If that wasn't enough, his deception was enough to cause me to shed A Chthonic Tear, somehing I have only been vulnerable enough to do twice before this, and it was based on a lie... I don't think I need to tell you how humiliating that is, and as I told the Boggart... humiliation is not an emotion I wear well...

*lipblows...* Until I can discern some more concrete facts about Red for myself, I'm out of my depth with this and you know it. I don't think anything I presently have to add would make a jot of difference. For what it's worth though, I still owe you one and I trust the White One's judgement, therefore I agree too.

The Storm: *nodding noncommittally* Then... what of these terms? The next time you attend a dinner party in the Sidhe, I can hardly ask that you ensure I am invited --that would cause too much of a good thing if everyone knew a Guardian was in attendance-- but I do ask that you bring me along as your guest. I shall behave myself as I am bound to the wills of my master and siblings. I simply wish to experience such a thing.

Red: *nods, breath slowing and wheels turning* I will bear that in mind. Where do we go from here? You know what you want to know, and I at least understand a little better what has happened to me. I'm not very comfortable being left without any defenses... if more like that boggart or whoever pulls his strings come along, I doubt I could do more than run. And I assume that whoever his mistress is is very bad news for me.

Acrathia: The best solution I can see is that I am to watch over you, naturally. For good or for ill, you are the result of a project I have spent over five millenia on, it would be mad of me to abandon you with The Dark Midwife, and magicks knows who else might be clamoring for you.

Wait, wait, hang on, what? I was just following the White One's lead since she knew what she was talking about! What have I talked myself into?

Dolt.

*aggrieved* You just sat there and let me run my mouth off!

Then thou should payeth closer attention unto which aspect the talent to discern fate is given from.

*humphs* Fiiiiiiiiine. Consider the point taken.

*to the Storm* You're serious? A literal god, and this is what you want? You're not going to cause mayhem, you just want to see how the other half lives, so to speak? This I must see. Alright, you're on. But you'll have to look the part. A suit-and-tie do, not biz-cas Friday stuff.

The Storm: the shrugs* We spend all of our time watching but never experiencing. I want to participate in whatever it is finite creatures do for entertainment. As for a proper guise… a sylph ought to suit me, eh, sister?

White One: *sighs* I shall not incriminate myself by getting involved in this conversation.

Champion, for your quest of reuniting the Nobles, I offer this as your tribute for the Scalemother when you meet. *she closes her eyes and a lump the size of a football forms beneath the soil before you. It slowly defines and solidifies into an opal shaped to look like a dragon egg*

Red: *tentatively relieved* Does this mean that I need to leave the museum? New York? I’m sure that you can’t spend all of your time invisibly following me around.

*tucking the opal away in a pocket of netherspace*

Thank you, I shall ensure this is safely delivered to the right hands. I guess once again, I'm indebted to both of you.

One last thing I must ask... if Azura has shifted alignment, Auris is out of commission with his spirit crushed and Red's role is passive and must be protected, then which major players other than myself do you still have left? Whom can you count upon to take action, go on the offensive or withstand an attack in the event of another crisis? I'm beginning to feel rather isolated - are there ones I have yet to encounter, still?

White One: *nods* There are some that you have yet to encounter, and some that you already have. Medoro, Jiminy, and Candle are among them. And then, there are some strands that will fall to my side before all is said and done. Do not fret. You are not alone.

The Storm: This has been a delight, but I must be away. Dear sister. *he presses his forehead to hers and then straightens to nod to you* Until our party, Strom-Breaker. *he vanishes with a roar of thunder*

*sighs* I'm going to regret this, aren't I. He's like Goodfellow, he's not going to be able to control himself.

Where your bronze sister is more reliant on superior force, your 'weapons' are charm, persuasion, insight and diplomacy. What should we do however if things reach a point where those no longer work?

Acrathia: *smirks* My reach is long and my presence is not limited to one place. I can manage your safety here for the time being... however should the threat grow and you and I feel that you are no longer safe in such a large city, I can arrange for you to set up an new life in a smaller town... perhaps arrange for you to be offered a position at a university I know of, where I have a few others under my protection...

White One: Unlike Goodfellow, he has little choice. That does not mean that he will not try to bend the rules, but he knows full well how they tend to snap back at him.

To answer your other question, fight. I have had to do the same many times. Sometimes there is no other way.

Red: *brows furrowed with worry* I already feel like I can’t trust my colleagues to be who they say they are. If there are people there that you trust, I think I might feel a little safer, at least. Are these others… are they like me? With targets on their backs?

And that's where I feel cut off, that we're dangerously losing ground - your own 'fighters' have been eroded. Unless the point is also to persuade others in their best interests not to, such as Acrathia? Is that what also makes me the 'Gambit' - the threads you weaved to create a piece that can do both? Why you picked me, with my human view of things?

And I always have to try and think two steps ahead, while being far from infallible. That early time before the two elements were properly settled within myself, it was human hubris and overconfidence in believing I could outplay and manipulate the 'rules' themselves that opened a path for the Vile One to get inside. That permanent dark spot he left in my being is what allows me to bond more closely with Acrathia and help her break further away from his control; the curse of mistrust doesn't work on me since I see and know exactly what she's been running from. And through that others have come to bypass it as well.

Yet those suspicions linger. It's not like the Vile One and his ways to commit such an elementary mistake or make no secret of where he lurks. Based on what the Shadow relayed all that time ago, the Vile One could have taken me a dozen times over before he was expelled... I can only conclude he didn't because I served as a decoy; a distraction from much grander preparations that one way or another, have to be thwarted or nullified. Fixed events must be allowed to happen for the Tapestry to rethread itself around them, but it doesn't govern the manner in which they play out, or the consequences afterwards.

Acrathia: Not exactly love. One is my ward, a girl I have come to regard as a daughter. The other is a boy, a soldier whom I owe a great debt.

*She sighed and rolled her eyes* Then there's the brother of my ward, and idiot who was cursed into tiger form after he helped steal from a wizard. He's a moron, but my ward cares for him, and I suppose he's amusing enough in his own right, so I'll count him among those I look after...

Red: *falls into silent thought for a few long moments* I had better give my two weeks notice, then. There’s nothing tying me here, and I’d rather be around people who wouldn’t think I’m crazy for knowing what I know. *a very small hopeful smile tugs at the corners of his lips* Plus, working at a university sounds right up my alley.

White One: *quietly listens, nodding now and then with understanding* Perhaps you ought to consult my other ‘fighter’. She may empathize with feeling alone… with no longer fully belonging to the light or the dark. It is a path she has walked for too long. Though, I caution you, should you pay her a visit you must not tell her that she is mine. That knowledge would certainly upset the course of things to come.

Is it somebody I've already met before? Surely not Acrathia, I'd say the Shadow is her patron now. I'd also be very surprised, given her own desires and priorities, if Red hasn't turned up on her radar yet.

This other fighter, a unicorn turning up unexpectedly at their door would no doubt raise questions. There ought to be a more tactful and discrete way of making introductions and 'discovering' a common bond than that, would there not? If I know who it is, I could think around that.

White One: No, indeed, Acrathia belongs jointly to my sister and The Storm. You have met -and quarreled- with my fighter before… once, in her domain while your mistress was distracted. If memory serves, you sought to understand the properties of her bell.

*blinks*

You - your - yig - you've got to be KIDDING me! *flustered* I mean - fine, I can accept Acrathia remaining loyal to her friendship with Moth in a neutral capacity outside of Sidhe politics. I accept that her backstory is tragic and she was an unwitting pawn caught in the wrong time and place when *that* happened. I accept that all she really wants is happiness, but that of a history she can no longer have. But how can you reconcile that with her sense of spite, and spurning or sabotaging anyone else's chance of happiness that she's been denied? Of throwing herself into the 'villain' role; if she's backed into a corner then so be it? Of the amount of cleanup duty after her I've had to take upon myself, much of which is setting things right with victims that you also oversee? Or maybe the better question is how you could even get through to her, when she and Azura are two sides of the same coin, and if one has become her own worst enemy... *pause* ...through her own nature.

Thou hath been - what be thine expression? 'Missing yon forest for the trees'.

I think... I think - ugh, I must be this close to actually getting it. Just... give me a little more to go on. Enough to properly figure this out.

White One: *eyes smiling* There is that puzzle solving talent that I admire. You see her as she is now. To truly understand my claim, you must see her whole story. There is more to a caterpillar than meets the eye, and yet more to a chrysalis. The true Moth has not yet emerged.

Then I've been looking at the wrong 'redemption arcs' all this time.

The point of contention is still going to be that bell. And it goes without saying I suppose that neither Moth nor Azura are to catch word about Red until their side of things gets resolved. That's going to be kind of difficult, don't you think?

White One: *nods* It will. That is why he has been removed from the Unseen Realms until now. He has been kept out of both of their paths while they are preoccupied with each other. But it seems his strand is attempting to weave itself… which has only happened with three sibling strands once before.

You're speaking figuratively in this instance, rather than literally? The last time, if you do mean literal siblings, would have been the creation of the Three, if the potentials are as great as you seem to imply.

So what happens now? This is a number of different subplots I suddenly have to absorb and prioritise... and the conditions aren't any less murky now than when I brought them up. What should I focus on first? Keeping Red safe? How should I keep the Magister from blabbing to the Court, because he's kind of obliged to do that.

Actually that's a point - who else of note does know about Red, and what he is?

White One: Indeed. Though Red still remains well within the tapestry, he has created and been affected by several unexpected circumstances. I suspect this comes from the source of the ritual that binds him. I wouldn’t wonder if the best course would be to give him into Acrathia’s care while you reforge the Noble alliances.

Apart from you, Cathal, Umund, and most unfortunately Mab, she is the only one who aware of Red’s unique predicament. If a geas must be made to ensure Red’s safety, I will make it, but know it is my last resort.

Red did mention something about translating a 'ritual' text as part of his job as a museum curator. How did such a thing end up in their possession?

*thoughtful headtilt and closing of one eye...

You're not suggesting Acrathia out of mere coincidence or altruism, are you. The Shadow must have finally judged her grand project as worthy of consideration - as long as she remains 'neutral' by being placed under the care of two opposite equals. And since there's no way in all the universes that you would ever willingly meet minds with the Vile One over such an endeavour... ooooooooh, I bet he's SEETHING with jealousy and resentment. Even moreso since Acrathia used to be under his thumb. Heh. Good.

Well, no. No, it's not good at all. The Vile One's not going to take a slap in the face of this magnitude and he'd see everything burn to the ground first. This is what the coming conflict will be about, and I must have been right about one thing. He's going to use Mab to try and do it.

Acrathia: *smirks* You should expect a call from said university tomorrow, they will of course be very impressed with the resume you sent in. Tell me, do you specialize in Cultural Anthropology, or Archeology?

Red: *raises his eyebrows* That quickly! Okay... um... Cultural Anthropology. I also have a minor in Philology, specializing in Gaelic languages. *he flexes his hands a few times, as if psyching himself up for something*

Look, I know that faerie gifts are not free, and if I'm quitting anyway, getting fired won't be too awful of a consequence. But, if it's possible to keep my reputation intact, I could use some help with the cameras so I can do what I'm about to do.

White One: You must realize that nothing within the tapestry happens outside of the Hand holding a vote or the Master having his say. The Vile One may live up to his name, but he is not unfettered. *she picks nimbly through the underbrush to close a little of the distance between you*

I did indeed ensure that the ritual text was put into Red's hands at the urging of my sister and the Storm. His realization of Acrathia's plans was more self-serving than I would like to admit... if the Vile One is going to use Mab and her resources in the coming conflict, I want to strengthen the Wild Magicks of the Seelie Court. Red is not the crux of what is to come, but a tactical maneuver on my part to tip the scales. I have you as my champion, Moth as my warrior, and Red as my... how to put it? Would insurance policy be an apt term by human standards?

It may sound callous, but you understand well what I am up against. Within our family we all have our sibling with whom we are diametrically opposed. My opposition is the most dangerous of all.

Call it a 'safeguard'. Dealing with an insurance company after the fact is like trying to pull hen's teeth. I'd also settle for 'pragmatic' rather than 'callous' - Red will have myself watching over him by day and Acrathia keeping a looking during the dark hours. Whatever complications may afflict his life, we'll handle it, and that life certainly won't be dull.

*looking to the sky for a minute...

You know what I think I miss from my former life? My sense of wonder. I've become so accustomed to all of this... I'm speaking to you like an executive to the CEO, clarifying a business strategy. I talk to Acrathia like we're equals even though I'm just a twinkle to her existence. A hitherto unknown being comes to my attention and it's like 'oh, another one'. As an ambassador, it's not just rank or species that dignitaries take notice of. I just happen to be me.

Thou dost not take a superior tone with other humans.

*mental shrug* What would be the point? Don't mean to humblebrag or anything but I do what I do to help because I care, not just because I can. Hmmm...

*pause*

I wonder if that's a previously untapped potential of Heart Magic expressing itself. An element no other Noble or fae being has, maybe that's how I'll get through to Moth eventually, when that time comes.

You know, that also sets me thinking. You're concerned about Nico being encouraged down a dark path. From here though it doesn't seem very fair with the magical concerns he faces every day that he's stripped of his 'birthright', as it were. And having seen for myself other cantrips he stumbles across by accident or happenstance... what if instead of Goodfellow, another being with Heart Magic were to assist in unlocking a little more of his potential, to get him by? And where does Goodfellow stand on the Venn Diagram of Fate at this point?

White One: *nodding* Your Heart Magic is a peculiarity, and certainly of benefit in confronting Moth. The difference between yourself and Nico is that there is no extricating either side of his lineage. You may use Heart Magic or faeborn Noble Magic at will, while his is only degrees of the most powerful Magic outside of my siblings and the Master, himself. Fire, whether a match or an inferno, still burns what it touches.

*eyes softening in empathy* There will be a time when he will be permitted to understand his true nature, but he must be ready. Goodfellow, in his passion, does not have the restraint or patience to let Nico mature to that point. Thus, my geas.

But, to answer your question, Goodfellow belongs to the Storm for now. Though, I predict that he will have to wrest Goodfellow from both of my other brothers before this is over.

I see. Oh well... just a thought.

But reassuring a little that Goodfellow's alignment hasn't shifted... yet. You know I want him kept safe, even if it has to be covertly and protected from himself. We got off on the wrong foot before I knew anything about who he was, and I still feel like I owe him.

Acrathia: Let me assure you love, you owe me nothing. With what you are and what you are doing for me in simply being the font, it is I that owes you. While doing all this for you technically balances the scales, It pales in comparison to the gratitude I feel. I thought I was going to need to redo everything I had worked on all those millenia ago, but with what has happened... what you have become... My greatest dream appears to be coming to life in a much more efficient way I ever could have imagined. The very least you can expect from me, trust that your reputation shall remain safe.

Fuck it I'll take one

You’ve got it!

It's very tempting...

You’re certainly welcome to it, if you like ^^

Yeah, let's do it. I'll take one.

You’ve got it! ^^

I may just have to take one of these slots. I am sorely tempted. I'd love a scenario where he ends up being a happy ass with a man in love with the Bottom of his bottle.

And I would certainly be happy to provide said scenario ^w^

In that case, I'll take the slot. You know what they say about that herd mentality.

You’ve got it! ^^

Just real quick before I get started, do you have any preferred background colors and/or outfit? Also, if there are any minor tweaks you want done as far as transformation details, I'll be happy to do that as well. ^^

Shot you an email with possibilities for what to do with it. As for background colors, something suitable for the state of mind I'll be in while transforming, I think. I have no color scheme in mind, so I trust you to pick what will work best. I usually wear my hoodie, but a long sleeved shirt or polo will work just as well for me. If it's polo, I usually wear shades of red, blue, or black. Though I do enjoy green from time to time, too.

XD To make a long story short, I don't have a 100% preference. Just whatever will fit best with the scenario I described earlier. My Adelfos and I are going to have a lot of catching up to do.

If you like the idea I sent you with potential for two images in varying stages, I wouldn't mind showing me in an earlier stage (Subtler changes, more human, oblivious to the effects of the drink, maybe showing some stubble/shadow on my face), then having the second be the one with me being like I suggested in the email I sent. Farther along in the change, changing feet bursting out of shoes, like this page portrays. Hair standing up more rigidly to form the beginnings of a proper mane between my donkey ears, and definitely developing a muzzle, like Ealah's shows. And like I said before, I don't mind paying more. You deserve every penny, and I was planning to tip you, regardless.