#a_room_at_firnost

(Jeremy is seated on the bed, his back to the headboard, knees drawn up. He is in black sweatclothes, his hair overlong. A CD player is on the bed beside him, one earbud in, which he reaches to pull out and sit up, slowly) "Please, have a seat. I believe there are twa chairs. Aye. Lady Thirteen spake to me, of't. Did Mr. Ice tell thee....I was rather set against this?" (Ice is keeping his mouth shut, scowling as he closes the door)

(The room is a mirror image of theirs, without the personal touches -- two wooden chairs, a bed, a nightstand. At some point, a small round table found its way in, to go with the chairs. A lamp casts low mellow light. There is a thermos and clock beside the lamp, but beside that....little else is visible. Perhaps more is in the closet, but its door is closed)

"... and, mayhaps, advice." She adds this with a brief glance back at Ice. "I am unsurprised you are against this, sir. I know I am not... I know I... but... what resources, else, do I have?"

(He reaches into his hoodie pocket, to draw out his glasses, and slide them on. Zara and Ice now find themselves being regarded with blank, polished glass lens)

"None, I am told."

"None, sir. I have been true to that. I have naught. But... I will tell you this, I must go. Even if I must give up the companions he has found. I must go."

(Ice grabs a chair, dragging the small table closer to the bed, and sets it up for Zara before he grabs his own. He starts to turn it around to drape backwards into it, but one look at Jeremy and he thinks better of it, turning the chair right-side and slouching in, scowling at the lamp)

Zara hasn't sat - she's wound as tight as a harpstring, fingers tangled in knots, eyes cast down.

"Aye." (A sigh, reaching up and rubbing his forehead) "Aye, I know. Please, sit."

"I would accompany, were I able, Lady, in his stead. But I cannot." (A pause) "But I....it was suggested, that mayhaps....aught similar, to what was left with thy Uncle. May serve thee, thence?"

Zara sits as asked, though she loses none of the tension. "I had thought to wait. -Was- waiting. But... but I fear the situation has changed, sir. I... cast soothsay, to see what shadows I could divine...."

"I cannot ask that from you, sir. I ask no aid. I would... were it be so, yes, I would accept help. But I know the effort is great and the cost dear."

(Ice's eyes flick to her, sharply, now. Jeremy merely continues to gaze....if one could call it that.....with his blank glass gaze)

"I have seen not the spider here, but in my vision, I saw a great scarlet snake, and I saw my uncle ensnared in its coils. Fighting... he was fighting, but what is he against that? "

"The effort was the greater....for attempting to touch the Dream, from another realm entirely. Thou wouldst be surprise'd, Milady....at how many of those, there truly are." (He is thoughtful a moment, as he listens. Ice's eyes narrow, almost accusingly -- but he manages to keep his mouth shut. With effort. If Jeremy notices, he refrains from mention. He rests his hands over his knees, pausing before whispering. He does so, quite a bit. It likely drives Ice nuts, yet another thing amongst many) "Omen, then? Those are symbolic, Lady....thou know'st already, that what is seen....is not necessarily, literal. But aye. I understand."

"Tell me, what thou art lacking. Healing? Speed? Skill at arms?"

"Symbolic, yes. I believe him in the hands of the Balor."

"I cannot think of another way to interpret it." (Agreeing, mildly) "But at the least, he IS fighting."

"He is a nocker, sir."

"Aye. I have known one or twa, in my time." (Deadpan)

"Tell me what is lacking, in thy....amongst thee."

(Ice breaks in) "Don't think we have anybody, knows how to heal." (He stares at Jeremy, eyes narrowed, then flicks eyes to Zara and away again. Holding his tongue)

"No. Clementine is the healer, not Earl"

(He drums hand -- not fingers; the middle two barely move -- but his hand, as he thinks) "Healing. Hast thou steeds?"

(A pause, his head turning sharply. The other two might hear nothing....but he whispers, softly) "Thou may'st join us, Lady."

"Healing, yes. In case... yes."

A creak as the door opens - the closet door, not the front door, mind - and the pooka steps through. Barefoot, jeans, and straightening her long-sleeve shirt - inside out, but on. She blinks, eyes focusing to the change in light from the closet to the room, and glances at the occupants. "Ain't no party like a sluagh party, 'cuz a sluagh party is very quiet and ends at an appropriately early hour?"

"Hello, Miss Maus."

(Ice is giving Pynki and Jeremy an accusing glower, in turn. He's scowling; he isn't accustomed to being spied on, and it rankles) "Anybody else? Maybe we got an Eshu under the bed, maybe a troll in the sock drawer?"

Her eyes rest and remain on Ice, though she gives a small nod as Zara greets her. "I'm sorry. I thought this was HIS room. Did I get the wrong number?"

"And his to invite, yes?"

(He scowls more deeply, but flicks his eyes away, chastened) "Yeah. Yeah, okay, sorry." (Grudgingly)

"So salty. And on my birthday." A frown a hurt expression."

(Jeremy waits through the outburst patiently, then) "Good day, Lady Maus." (He draws up knees further, to make room for her to sit at the foot of the bed, if she wants, a silent invitation. Then his head turns slightly back to the other two) "Healing..." (Softly) "Aught else?"

A pause, taking in the locations of the other sluagh in the room, before she does slip past to sit on the edge of the bed. Feet bare of her boots for once draw up onto the bed, pale toes burrowing into the blanket as she settles in, tailor-style. Her tail trails off the edge of the bed, and the tip flicks absently.

"I cannot veil, sir. I know not if any others can..."

Her eyes flick to Zara, her expression thoughtful, but silent. Following the conversation, deceptively mild and quiet.

"Aught similar, then....to what was sent with thy gentleman Uncle?" (After a thoughtful pause) "I warn, Lady....it can veil but one other, most usually." (He hesitates) "There is one possibility. But I wish to warn thee, ere attempting it."

"yes?"

"There are chimera, that can....swallow one, entirely." (He pauses, choosing his words) "Taking thee, into themselves. I know not, precisely, the mechanism....some posit, it is a pocket realm....others speculate, a form of Metamorphosis. At any rate, it can draw thee in, and carry thee. There are also abilities, that create chimera of pure Glamour, nae physical form. Such, can pass through walls, as if not there." (A pause) "Combine these twa things....dost thou understand?"

"But understand, too....no one entirely knows, yet, what happens to those, so swallow'ed, is the chimera slain. Or stopp'ed, or disperse'd. Aye?"

"As... as I understand, if we are as far in the dreaming as I think... walls may not be much of a barrier to one such as us."

"But art thou sending in a troll, Lady? Or the others, a way to get all in?"

"It could, mayhaps, act as spy, to save thee the trouble of going thine own self?"

"Mayhaps. Or mayhaps it cannot pass that same barrier which fell the spiders..."

"That is a thought." (He pauses, and Ice breaks in, flicking his eyes to the pooka) "Yeah, think SHE has some ideas on that, want to tell it?"

"What am I, a broken record?" Her ears flicking. "Everyone wants free refills." She frowns a bit, but after a flick of a glance to Jeremy, continues. "Figured, might cost a lot to power a barrier over the entire homestead. Either it's a spot barrier, over the walkways. Or it's a wall, and there might be going over, or under. Or if it's solid all 'round, maybe there is something powering it, locking in the spell. Smash the focus - or the generator, take it down." A shrug. "Me, I'd just look for the mouse-hole. Ain't nothing built that can keep us out. Not for long." A thoughtful look. "Look at the ground around it. Unless it's a desert, there's critters there. Is there a ring of dead bugs and birds and rats around - or, I dunno, pixies and butterfly-maidens and bird-winged-leaf-nooblers, whatever lives there. Figure out WHAT it's blocking, and find a way around it."

"Aye..." she nods, biting on her lower lip. "Pardon, miss."

(A murmur, soft) "So aught that can kenn, an' it is so, and yet small enough, to go through."

Her ears flick towards Zara and she tilts her head, listening.