#bergen_county

Cairrean starts singing something in soft Gaelic. She's no Piper, or even Siv who has a rather nice voice as well, but with blood and heritage of Eire she adds a lilt to the words which is quite pleasant to the ears.

Tá cailín álainn a dtug mé grá dí, ’Sí is-deise ‘s is-áille ná bláth na rós.
Gan í ar láimh liom is cloíte atá mé.
A chailín álainn, is tú fáth mo bhrón.

Sylvi scowls. She doesn't like not knowing what's being said.

And then, she stops, and starts moving her hands in a reverse pattern to her previous motions. This time, it does not scan right, and the tune is odd and off-kilter... in reverse.

Brón mo fáth tú is álainn, chailín, a mé. atá cloíte is liom láimh ar í...
Gan rós. na bláth ná is-áille ‘s is-deise ’Sí dí
grá mé dtug a álainn cailín Tá

Dagmar is wary, trying to keep Symon soothed while monitoring Cairrean - she's holding everything together, she has to.

Symon feels the pull, the tugging sensation, as the magic starts to unravel. Motes of pink and red light, quite lovely, drifting like dandelion tufts on a breeze, dancing with the notes, over to Cairrean's hands.

"...please please please please please..." Sylvi mutters to the Dreaming.

Dagmar feels it as well, as the magic that she gathered from the Treasure spins up, and starts to dance away. Goodbye, fizzy-magic-buzz! She might even miss it!

The motes swirl together on the 'breeze', which is visible like the streams of steam off of a cartoon pie that bring a hungry wolf in, drawn by the delicious smell to float through the air.

She exhales, steady, okay, this is okay...

Spinning, spinning together, the streams spin and twirl, combining at the keyfob focus. Spinning, twisting, twisting....

Cairrean has a bead of sweat on her forehead, and she sings louder, a demanding note to her tone. The magic will obey, and it will go IN!

A frown. Does Cairrean need more glamour? Sylvi would be glad to give it, but doesn't know if that would help or hurt.

The magic starts to shrink into the keyfob, which begins to glow.

More, and more, draining away. Symon gives a shuddering sigh, and straightens up, his eyes starting to clear.

Dagmar feels the warmfuzzies of the glamour leaving, which makes the minor sting of banality from earlier feel a bit raw again.

Well, there's a cost to everything...

Sylvi's staying wary and ready until the glamour is clearly steady and stable.

She is holding tight to Symon, curled protectively around him.

The fob gleams, then glows, pink, then darker, darker, the resin turning a deep red, a lovely valentine red, and then darker yet. The magic swirls faster like a tiny tornado atop it.

Cairrean keeps her tune going.

Lovecraft is the first to notice, and hisses softly. "Meat?"

The magic is not the only thing visible, there are now tiny wisps of smoke, and a sizzling sound.

Cairrean keeps singing, her eyes widening. She twitches, trying to move her hands away from the fob which is now the cherry red of a hot coal.

"Tiocfaidh mé is ní fhanfaidh mé... Tiocfaidh mé is ní fhanfaidh mé... Tiocfaidh mé is ní fhanfaidh mé...Is éalóidh mé le mo stór."

"Uh..." A frown, and she looks over at Sylvi. ("This seems off?")

"What the...?" Sylvi breathes, staring at the fob.

"What are you doing?!" she demands of Cairrean.

The instructions were not to interrupt.

Cantrips can go crazy when interrupted.

But.

This is Not Good.

Dagmar adjusts, putting herself between Symon and... whatever is Happening.

Cairrean's eyes flash to Sylvi, but she doesn't, or can't? Stop?

"Cadal cha dèan mi, sùgradh cha dèan mise,
Nochd chan fhaigh mi tàmh, 's gun mo ghràdh a' tighinn."

Her shoulders twitch as she tries to rip her hands away from the fob that is now growing, expanding, an orb of blood red.

Dagmar feels the last of her ill-gotten glamour drain off, and Symon gives a sigh, straightening up, and he places a hand against Dagmar's back - even through her shirt she can feel his cool, clammy touch, none of the feverish warmth of before. He whispers, "It's gone."

That's enough. Sylvi moves closer and reaches over Cairrean's shoulders to grab her wrists to help yank her hands back from the orb.

As the Clurichaun's hands rib free from the orb, it falls to the ground, and shatters.

Or.. hatches? With a thunderous crack, it splits open, and smoke starts to billow out, forming a shape that's much larger than the original item. Up it billows, past Lovecraft, surpassing Symon's height, even Sylvi dwarfed... though it is not QUITE as tall as Dagmar...

Sylvi may catch a glimpse of Cairrean's hands, skin burnt right off, as she stumbles and falls back away from the creature with a terrified sound.

Wide eyes, Sylvi pushes Cairrean back behind her, trying to protect her from whatever THAT is.

Dagmar stands, and activates her armor once again - plating up in green and gold steel.

Sylvi's got her knife in hand, uncertain what she's facing.

The smoke spreads with a rattle of bones, and a thud... thud... thud... rhythmic pounding. And the slow clank of chains...

"Looooove.... me..... mine.... mine.... MINE.... MINE...." It hisses!

"Cairrean? Whose heart does it have?! Whose heart is that?!"

A rattle-thump as it steps forward, glowing sockets intent on Dagmar and Symon.

Dagmar brandishes Flyswatter and bares her teeth. "No. He's mine."

Sylvi is about to take a strike, but steps back to let Dagmar take first shot.

She turns to help Cairrean.

No one there!

Dagmar CHARGES the creature, "Ah-yeeee-ahhh-ya!"

She skirts the combat area to get over to Symon. "You okay?"

And strikes with a mighty blow!

Her weapon slices true, and shears through a wing! It starts to fall off, then the bones rattle, and dance back into place.

Symon nods to Sylvi, but he doesn't have time to respond, as he darts forward to take his place next to Dagmar.

To her side, some would say in her shadow, but she knows he is her shadow, part of her that's always there, even when she cannot see him...

His eyes glow green, and he stares at the creature, then whispers to Dagmar, "The chains! Strike the chains!"

She nods sharply and adjusts to his direction - the next blow aims to cleave the chains, her steps fluidly taking Symon's proximity into account.