Burning Man -- Logs

The two angels have no problem finding a place away from the pool of firelight and laughter and song that is Black Rock City. Out on the playa, alone with the stars and one another, there is a sense of Freedom that seems to inflame the Bright. The passion and love she feels for her Stone lover pours out, and with the Seraph's near-infinite patience, it's nearly dawn before the pair finally curl together to just breathe in the air and the presence of each other.

Shateishael is gently stroking Bella's hair where she rests on him, peacefully watching her relaxed face as the light starts to grow towards dawn. It's as the sun is just peeking over the horizon that he rumbles in slow, deep contentment,

"You see I want a lot
perhaps I want everything
the darkness that comes with each waking fall
and the shivering blaze of each rising...

So many live on and want nothing
and are raised to the rank of prince by the slippery ease of their light judgments.

But what you love to see are faces that do work and feel thirst
You love most of all those who need you in the same way that they need a useful tool.

You have not grown old, and it is not too late to dive into your increasing depths
Where life calmly gives out its own secret."

He sighs in quiet joy, glancing out over Black Rock City, then back at his lovely Bright lover, "How y'feelin', sweetheart? Better now?"

Bella just smiles, eyes closed, though she's awake. "Much better now. Thank you." Shateishael rumbles in quiet happiness again, content to simply lie there with his beloved and gently stroke her hair for as long as she'd like. Bella seems content to be stroked, laying half over Slate as the sky begins to light with the prelude to dawn.

Shateishael muses quietly to her, "Wuz thinkin' a' stoppin' by th' fae 'ncampment t'day. Wanna ask Miz Peony if'n she'd be willin' t'teach me acrobatics, 'n I offered t'help th' Jotunsens wi' swordwork." He grins, adding, "Won' hurt none t'put th' lie t'any rumors 'bout me 'n Soma'n Rosie too!" He adds thoughtfully, "Think I need t'try th'talkin' t'y'r mom t'day too -- t'get it done wi', y'know?"

Bella nods, still smiling and with her eyes closed, one hand tracing along Slate's mouth as he talks, touch light enough to not really interfere with speech, "That all sounds like good ideas."

Shateishael smiles, lightly kissing Bella's fingertips, then rumbles, "'Kay. If'n I get th'talk wi'y'r mom done first, wanna wander on over t'th'fae'ncampment wi'me later t'day?"

Another nod, eyes still closed, lips still curved into a smile, "Sure... I promised Bacchus a visit."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, then rumbles with amusement, "Sweetheart, hate t'mention it, 'n not like I'm not wonderfully comfy... but I'm gonna needja t'shift bit if'n I'm gonna go anywhere?"

Bella makes playfully grumpy sounds, but obligingly sits up, stretching languidly and just enjoying the feeling of her Vessel's muscles and sinews working together. Then she begins the somewhat daunting task of finding all the bits of her clothing that she had shed one piece at a time the night before. Shateishael chuckles lazily, still not moving yet. Watching Bella move around, sun-gilded, is far more enjoyable than preparing for meeting the redoubtable Lilith, after all. The Bright doesn't put all of her dancing clothes back on, preferring to keep it to the pants and the halter-style wrap she was wearing under the chain-mail bra. Once dressed, she stands and spends a moment looking down at Slate, drinking in the way the sun paints his already golden form. Shateishael grins lazily up at Bella, rumbling a cheerful haiku,

"Radiant sunlit
summer beauty: glorious!
Proper words fail me."

Bella resists the urge to sit down astride Slate's belly, "Mmm... you'd better get moving before I decide to ravish you and your silver tongue again."

Shateishael laughs lazily, then stretches with as much languid pleasure as Bella did just a moment ago. He rises fluidly, scooping up the few pieces of his clothing, then slides an arm about Bella's shoulders, "C'mon, beautiful... le's go shower'n get cleaned up, 'n then I'll go."

Some time later Shateishael moves easily through the mostly quiet City. He's dressed in his regular clothing, which is as close to formal as one is likely to see in Black Rock City: clean but faded jeans, well-worn cowboy boots and hat, and a patterned shirt with rolled-up sleeves snug about his powerful biceps. Dangling easily from one hand is a cold six-pack of beer -- never hurts to have a guesting gift when going visiting, after all! He finds Lilith's pop-up camper and pauses a moment, listening carefully. He'd rather not interrupt Lilith and her young lover, after all... but if he hears nothing, and the drums are no longer thundering, then he'll tap lightly on the door with the back of one knuckle. He ruefully hopes, as he does so, that the loss of the endorphins she spoke of wearing off the next day will not leave her cranky.

At Slate's knock there is the sound of bodies moving and mumbling inside the camper. Lilith, however, doesn't look a bit drowsy when she cracks open the door. Surprised perhaps, but not tired, "Slate. I didn't expect to see you this morning."

Shateishael tips his hat politely, "Ma'am. If'n this's a bad time, I c'n come back later?"

Lilith shakes her head and chuckles, stepping out of the camper. She's wearing next to nothing and seems either unaware or unconcerned. Since there tend to be a large number of bare breasts in Black Rock City, this isn't actually unusual. The shorts she's wearing look suspiciously like men's swim trunks, "No, it's fine."

Shateishael holds up the six-pack of beer and adds, "Thoughtcha might likea drink? Y'mentioned y'r endorphin's'd be wearin' off t'day, after all?"

The Princess' hair is cleaned and pulled back in a ponytail that bounces a bit as she nods, smirking as she examines her hands, which do look a bit swollen, "Good thing the festival's over soon. I'd love a drink." She opens the door to the camper and murmur to Joe about earplugs before retrieving a pair of folding canvas chairs from beside the door.

Shateishael raises an eyebrow at sight of Lilith's hands -- they look swollen even through the bandages! He sets the six pack down and pops one open for her, handing it to her as he rumbles, "Joe got any first aid trainin'?"

Lilith takes a long, appreciative drink of the beer, smiling as she lowers the can, "He's a nurse, actually. Wouldn't think it, would you?"

Shateishael nods, settling into the other chair and popping a beer for himself, "'Kay, then I cain't add nuthin' t' helpin' outcher han's." He stretches out his legs, crossing them at the ankle and tipping his cowboy hat back, then having a sip of beer himself. He sighs gustily, relaxing... then muses curiously, "So when were ya 'xpectin' me, ma'am?"

Lilith stretches out, almost mirroring Slate's pose and holding the beer with both hands, balanced on her stomach, "Tonight at the drumming. I suspected that the two lovely ladies and the pretty boy would have you busy until then."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, "Mmm, prolly not t'night, ac'shully." He has another sip of beer, then rumbles lazily, "Whatcha need th'earplugs for, ma'am?"

Lilith sips the beer again and looks almost disappointed, "No fabulous dancing tonight?" She chuckles and motions over her shoulder at the camper, "I told Joe I had company so he might want to put in ear plugs."

Shateishael says, "Ah, gotcha." He smiles slowly, then adds, "Thanks f'th'compliment, ma'am." He has another sip of beer, then adds thoughtfully, "So, y'feel up t'continuin' our previous discussion?"

The Princess rolls her shoulders, settling comfortably in the chair, "Which one?"

Shateishael says, "One 'bout th'nature a' th'Light 'n th'Truth." He grins, adding, "Don' 'xpect ya t'suddenly d'cide y'wanna share who y'really are wi'me."

Lilith's eyes light up and she sits up a little straighter, "By all means, let's continue."

Shateishael had been quietly congratulating himself on Lilith's being as lazily relaxed as she was, since he considered it a good sign she wasn't finding him -- and by extension, Bella or Rosie -- quite as fascinating to pester. He's a bit startled at her reaction (he's not sure yet if he should worry or not), but simply nods politely, "'Kay. So as I r'call, you were sayin' there wuzn't any one deity t'call th'Light... an' yet y'still seemed mite peeved at Yahweh?"

Lilith snorts through her nose and rolls her eyes, "Yahweh has a deity-sized stick shoved so far up his ass, he can probably taste it when he belches."

Shateishael glances curiously sideways at Lilith from under the shade of his cowboy hat, rumbling, "There's really a spirit called Yahweh?"

Lilith looks surprised, sitting up a little straighter, "Uhm... yeah. There is. Somebody arranged the whole hierarchy."

Shateishael says, "Th'christian one?"

Lilith smiles softly, "The Celestial one."

Shateishael has another sip of beer, then rumbles calmly, "Th'Celestials aren't all christian, ma'am."

Lilith chuckles softly, "No, I know that. But Yahweh far outdates Christianity."

Shateishael says, "Mm, point. But t'expand on that, Heaven ain't jus' from th'religions a'th'Book."

Lilith shrugs and sits back again, eyes starting to shine with enjoyment of the discussion, "Mmm... no, it's not. But who do you think is the commander-in-chief? Who is Davey's boss?"

Shateishael grins at the use of 'Davey,' then rumbles, "Dunno, ma'am, but I figger 's gotta be th'Light... 'n that'd be th'Truth a'what th'Seraphim serve. When I'm in Celestial form..." he hesitates, trying to analyze, then slowly adds, "I c'n feel it. 'S why we Sing." He glances curiously at Lilith, "Y'ever been t'Heaven?"

Lilith mmms, eyes twinkling slightly. It's almost the same expression she wears when she's being outrageously flirtatious, "See, that's not who arranged it all, though. You're not serving a being, you're serving a cause. It's different. Who do you think actually started out saying 'Hey, Mike, you kick some pretty serious ass. I'm gonna make you my general. And Eli, you're a flake, but you have more imagination than any ten galaxies -- you take care of makin' stuff.' Who gave the order? Who drew up the flow chart?" The question about going to Heaven makes her laugh, "Mmm... most of the older Infernals have been."

Shateishael grins lazily, "Dunno, ma'am. Wuzn't there. You tell me?" Then he grins again, "Knew that 'bout them... but'cha din' say if'n you've been, ma'am!"

Lilith leans forward again, elbows on her knees, beer still held with both hands, "I already told you who drew up the dramatis personae, Slate. No, I didn't, did I?" Shateishael grins and has another sip of beer. Lilith shakes her head, "I did tell you who put it all together, but you might not have heard it right. What I didn't do was tell you if I've been to Heaven."

Shateishael says, "Ac'sh'ly y'din' 'zactly tell me who drew it up either, ma'am, 'n from whut I been tole, wordin's damn important wi' Lilim. Y'said 'someone' did it."

Lilith laughs, "My daughter has taught you well." Her eyes do another appreciative appraisal of Slate before coming back to his face, "I did say that. And who were we talking about just prior? Who were we discussing that brought up the question?"

Shateishael grins, "I'll pass y'r compliment on t'her later, ma'am. An' I brought up th'question, 'n we were discussin' you 'n Yahweh 'n th'Truth. That's three possible entities t'have created th'universe, 'n I'm guessin' 'less it wuz built by committee it wuzn't you... 'r you'd still be there." He drawls with faint amusement, "Although it'd 'xplain lot if'n it wuz built by committee..."

Lilith smiles, "No, it wasn't me. I am a construct of this reality being brought into being. And it wasn't the Truth. Truth isn't a being, it's a concept."

Shateishael smiles quietly, "It's more'n jus' that, ma'am. An' Yahweh's too limited a concept t'be th'creator a'th'universe. Like th'ole sayin', "If y'meet th'Buddha on th'road, kill him." 'Cause th'deity you c'n meet ain't th'deity -- it's a construct y'r mind c'n encompass."

Lilith smiles quietly, "And just because it wasn't a committee that built it doesn't mean it wasn't more than one being. Committees are understood to be working as a unit... at least nominally."

Shateishael nods, "That I could believe."

Lilith finishes off her beer and tosses the can into a metal tin that clinks as if it is filled with similar cans. Her hands describe motions almost like making a snowball, "But what if you have a bunch of beings building things and then just looking for the place it fits best. Maybe you come up with the idea of a nitrogen-rich oxygen atmosphere and thought the plants that could grow in it could be really amazing greens... then you have to figure out a place to put that atmosphere. Well, this guy you know down the infinitely long block has this whole galaxy thing he's been arranging and he wants a blue spot right about there -- why not put your atmosphere there."

Shateishael sighs a bit wistfully, his gaze far away, "Wisht I coulda seen that..." He reaches out and pops another cold can open, handing it over to Lilith. "Heard lotta th'stories 'bout then, but ain't th'same as seein' it."

Lilith's eyes are twinkling and there seems to be actual passion in her voice, "So now you've got one guy's astromechanics with another guy's meteorology. Meteorological guy is going to go off and experiment some with sulfur and maybe some sulfuric acid off in some other universe. But that also means that that little oxygen atmosphere planet which is just right to have freestanding water -- who actually made that planet? The guy with the astronomy or the guy with the meteorology? What about the bloke that came up with the idea of liquid in the first place?"

Shateishael grins, "Li'l a' both?"

Lilith leans forward, face close enough to Slate to be confidential but not close enough to be invasive, "Mmhm... but what if the guy who wanted to take credit for it is the one that invented protozoa?"

Shateishael doesn't pull away, since Lilith's not quite too close... he simply rumbles lazily, "Guess I'd s'ggest th'Gnostics were right, then, 'n Yahweh's a poser." He has another sip of beer, then rumbles a bit wistfully, "Wish I could use m'Resonance on ya, ma'am."

Lilith roars laughter and reaches over to slap Slate's knee lightly, "Uh-huh. And what if protozoa guy was also pretty groovy with life in general, and so he wanted to get a bunch of folks together to nurture it in the little corner with the protozoa... and why shouldn't he? He's got the organizational talent and the charisma -- and hell, even the outright chutzpah -- so he talks a bunch of other folks into organizing." She grins at the out-loud wish, "It makes you itchy to have to use gut-feeling and logical reasoning to see if what I'm saying might really be the history?"

Shateishael says, "Nope. Means I cain't trust anythin' y'tell me." He sighs, adding ruefully, "'S a bummer."

Lilith chuckles, one corner of her mouth quirking, "But you really want to believe at least part of it."

Shateishael smiles relaxedly at Lilith, his hat shading most of his face, "Want ain't th'Truth, ma'am... 'n y'already know I'm a Seraph." He has another sip of beer, then adds thoughtfully, "'Kay, so 'xcept f' th' takin' on airs part a' Gnosticism, soun's like whutcher describin' matches whut they're sayin'. So... did Yahweh get all uppity at some point?"

Lilith smiles and shrugs, "It's not really uppity when you really do have some chops. If you really are biggest and baddest and people are willing to follow your lead, it's not pretension -- it's taking advantage of your talents. What he got wasn't so much uppity as narcissistic."

Shateishael raises an amused eyebrow, "So you feel ends justifies th'means, ma'am?"

One exquisitely shaped eyebrow quirks upward, "Did I say that? No, I said Yahweh didn't get uppity as I understand uppity. What he got was a big head and some weird ideas of how things should be run."

Shateishael smiles, "No'm, you said in effect if'n y'really are th' toughest, y'ain't pretendin'. But does that mean nobody else gets t'be tough?"

Lilith nods slowly, a look of something almost resembling pride on her face, "No. It means you're the biggest and the baddest. It's like being the CEO. You get to set up the big picture, but most of the time you ignore the fact that there are inconsistencies and faults. You don't really care if there's a really high turnover in the mailroom as long as the mail gets through."

Shateishael is silent for a long moment, staring out at the folks walking by and thinking... finally he rumbles slowly, "That how you run y'r Word, ma'am?"

Lilith smiles, "It's how anybody sane runs their Word."

Shateishael rumbles slowly, "Beg t'differ, ma'am. I've seen S'periors I respect greatly who care deeply 'bout their Servitors."

Lilith mmms, "I may have stated that wrong. What about 'You don't really care what system the mailroom uses to get the mail sorted, as long as it gets to the right box'?"

Shateishael adds even more slowly, "M'thinkin' there's a big diff'rence b'tween b'lievin' in y'r Servitors 'n havin' faith in their 'bility t'grow on their own... 'n ignorin' them, ma'am." He's silent for a heartbeat, then adds quietly, "Maybe if'n y'cared more 'bout'cher daughters havin' some freedom a' their own y'could see it?"

Lilith wiggles her bare toes against the playa sand, looking like she's getting very comfortable until Slate says that about her daughters. Her eyes narrow slightly, "My daughters have Freedom, Seraph, eventually."

Shateishael is speaking slowly and carefully, trying to tell when he should shut the hell up before he gets hurt, "Why eventually, ma'am? Why d'ya purchase y'r freedom from their sla- er... traffic?"

Lilith continues, "And even under their geasa, they have the Freedom to choose. Honor the geas or deal with the consequences. And because one uses what talents and resources one has."

Shateishael sighs quietly, shaking his head, "Ma'am, y'ever think folks' perspectives mighta been twisted by their environments?"

Lilith shrugs again, "Perspective is a product of the environment."

Shateishael says, "Then maybe y'might be able t'share Freedom wi'others if'n y'din' worry so 'bout pr'tectin' jus' y'self?"

Lilith leans forward, mouth serious, eyes almost flat, "Then give me a reality in which I don't need to be protected."

Shateishael smiles, "Sure, ma'am. Come t'Heaven." He adds gently, "Works jus' fine f'y'r Bright daughters. Whatcha think alla th'warriors 're there for anyways?"

Lilith leans even further forward, "And where Dominic can't decide I need to be destroyed because I don't agree with him."

Shateishael rumbles gently, "Yes'm, if'n you were parta Heaven, Judgement couldn' jus' d'cide that, any more than he could wi'Michael 'r Eli 'r Gabriel." He adds quietly, "You got geasa on folks, right? Prolly more'n I could 'magine jus' now. But if'n you were in serious trouble, who'd you turn to, ma'am? Who d'you trus' t'be generous for ya? Bella don' have any geasa on me that I know of, but it don' matter. If'n she needed me... I'd be there for her, 'n she knows that. 'N she don't need t'use a geas t'get me t'help. She jus' needs t'ask."

Lilith smiles lopsidedly, "Who my friends are my business."

Shateishael nods relaxedly, "Wuzn't s'ggestin' y'confide in me, ma'am. Wuz s'ggestin' real freedom is not needin' t'control others."

Lilith laughs and leans back again, hands folded over her bare stomach. There's a design around her navel that looks like it might be interlinked hearts, "You have balls the size of church bells."

Shateishael looks a bit startled -- then ah!s, nodding, "Gotcha. Sorry, ma'am... 'm not always up on euphemisms." He considers, then adds, "Ma'am, if'n I'm bein' a pest, jus' sayso, 'n I'll leave quietly."

Lilith shakes her head, still leaning back and relaxed, "If you were being a pest, I'd do my very best to offend you and make you leave."

Shateishael has another sip of his beer as he thinks... he suspects she's wearing as little as she is in an attempt to be flustering. He smiles ruefully... were he from this culture, it'd be working. He glances over to her, the cowboy hat shading his eyes, and rumbles quietly, "Don' need t'go t'that much effort, ma'am, truly. I mean it when I say I'll leave when y'want." He pauses, glancing at the untouched second beer he opened for her, then adds curiously, "You don' want th' beer?"

The Princess smiles and takes the second beer, sipping it more slowly than the last one, "That's right. You're a Seraph. You guys tend not to take hints."

Shateishael nods amusedly, "Y'got that right, ma'am. 'S why I sometimes get whacked too -- I miss th'warnin' signals, which is why I'm tryin' t'be careful here, even though I'd really like t'jus' blurt outta ton a' questions!"

Lilith chuckles and plays with the tab on her beer can, "Go ahead and ask them."

Shateishael leans his head back and sighs softly, amusedly, stretching his arms overhead and rolling his somewhat tense shoulders a bit. He's a bit wound up in trying to be both relaxed appearing and able to spring away if necessary... which makes it hard to do either well, actually. He grins at Lilith's comment, "Y'sure, ma'am? Don' wanna be accidentally rude t'a lady."

That brow goes up again, "Then let's make a deal. You ask what you want. I'll answer what I want."

Shateishael grins a bit excitedly, his eyes lighting up. "Okay!" He thinks furiously for a few minutes -- then turns to face Lilith. His body language is the most animated it's ever been around her (although he's still careful to not look into her eyes), and he gestures for emphasis with his beer can as he speaks, "So... who or whut are ya, ma'am? Why were ya sad soundin' 'bout y'r 'sweet Joe' las' night? Why d'y'keep 'ccasionally starin' at me? Why d'ya feel y'r daughters hafta pay f'their freedom -- why not let 'em have it right 'way, like th' Heavenly S'periors do? Otherwise, don' it kinda mean ya got your freedom at th'cost a'th'freedom a'others? Are ya that scared a' bein' vulnerable, 'r is there sump'in' else goin' on?"

"How c'n what y'r daughters have really be a choice, if'n it's their very nature -- after all, 's not like I gotta choice 'bout Truth either, y'know? 'R d'you see Truth as bein' a personal choice too? 'N don'tcha think maybe it's that kinda thing that means y'r alone -- that'cha kinda bring it on y'self? Have ya been t'Heaven? Are y'wearin' jus' shorts t'be distractin', 'r is there sump'in' else as well?" He takes a deep breath, looking a bit surprised, then rumbles, "Wow. Had more questions than I realized there..." Then he blinks as he realizes just how... impertinent some of the questions are, and tilts his head a bit worriedly at Lilith. He's not sure if he should just dodge now, or wait for her to get pissed! He ruefully decides he'd better not add any questions about her relationship with Bella... he's been quite, er... ballsy enough already -- to use Lilith's term.

Lilith starts out attentive and ends up amused, chuckling when Slate finally pauses for breath, "No wonder you wound up with Belofte." She takes a couple more swigs of the beer, "I am the Princess of Freedom. I sounded sad about Joe because I think I'm going to have to end it with him soon. I keep staring at you because I'm wondering if you'd be in good in bed as you at dancing."

Shateishael looks a bit taken aback... then chuckles quietly, relaxing a bit. "Dunno whatcha mean 'bout why I ended up wi' Bella... but 'm sorry t'hear y'feel y'r gonna hafta end it wi' a lover." He pauses, then curiously adds, "Why end it, if'n he still loves ya, though?" He politely ignores the commentary about what he'd be like in bed, since he has no idea how to answer that question!

Lilith smiles that slightly sad smile, "Because he's getting a little too involved with me. When things started it was just fun. And now he's making noises about marriage and kids. Neither of which I can give him. Or really want to." She rubs her chin, thinking back on the rest of the questions, "I feel like they need to understand Freedom before they can really appreciate it. And I got my Freedom by working for my Freedom." She grins and continues, "Yes, I've been to Heaven. No, I'm wearing the shorts because they're comfortable. Why, do you find it distracting?"

Shateishael is silent a moment... then rumbles quietly, "Why not jus' tell th'poor guy th'truth -- that'cha aren't inta marriage 'n cain't have kids?" He chuckles just as quietly at her almost gleeful query, "Ma'am, wuz raised in cultures where nudity wuzn't taboo. Whut's distractin' t'me isn't y'r almost nudity -- y'got nice breasts -- it's that y'look disconcertin'ly like Bellisima."

Lilith shakes her head, "Ahh, but you're wrong. Belofte looks a lot like me."

Shateishael says, "Er, yeah; sorry. I met her first, though, so I tend ta think of ya th'other way 'roun.'"

Lilith nods and smiles, "Me, too. That's why I like it here. I can run around bare-breasted. Hell, even bare-assed, and no one stares. Or if they do stare, it's considered gauche."

Shateishael chuckles and nods amusedly, "Yeah, same here." He grins a bit mischievously, "'Course, Bella 'n Rosie keep tryin' t'hand me m'shorts when I do that." He pauses, then curiously asks, "What didja mean 'bout me endin' up wi' Bella? 'N surely you c'n have any dancer y'want? 'M sure there mus' be far better'n me aroun'."

Lilith smiles almost affectionately, "Bella, as you call her, has always been one to want to learn things. And there may be better dancers, but none of them are a Seraph."

Shateishael gets an almost foolishly happy grin as he thinks about Bella... then he blinks and looks towards Lilith again, "Whut's bein' a Seraph gotta do wi'it, ma'am?"

The Princess starts to open her mouth and the door of the camper opens, showing a rumpled and sleepy-looking Joe. The human male also looks as if someone has taken a leather strap to this thighs, leaving some wide red welts. He looks fairly happy though, "'Lectra, love, are we doing that thing today? Over at the fire-eater's camp?"

Shateishael glances up from under his cowboy hat, nodding politely to Joe. Joe waves cheerfully to Slate as Lilith turns to give her lover a smile that looks not only genuine, but almost besotted, "Of course. Wouldn't miss her show for the world... oh, wait, crap... can you go find out if we need to bring your kit?" Shateishael winces a bit at that smile. That level of falsehood troubles him deeply.

The boy nods and ducks back into the camper, coming out wearing a semi-sheer broomstick skirt and hiking boots. He pauses long enough to kiss Lilith's temple before heading across the City. Shateishael silently watches Joe leave, carefully restraining his immediate reaction. Lilith keeps smiling that lover's smile until Joe is out of sight and then her face settles back into something more natural. Her gaze goes to the Seraph across from her, watching his reactions. Shateishael is still carefully controlling himself, sitting very, very still. Lilith's voice is serious when she speaks, her words a statement rather than a question, "Something has made you unhappy."

Shateishael's beer can in his big hand makes a small crinkling noise, and he glances down at it, then draws a deep breath and deliberately loosens his grip slightly. He rumbles carefully, "Yes'm. Bothers me t'see y'deceivin' Joe so... even though I know 's none a' m'business. Spe'sh'ly when y'jus' said y'r thinkin' a' endin' it soon."

Lilith's smile is a little tight, "Mmm, and here I thought it was the tawse marks bothering you. However, telling him right here and now would be cruel, Slate."

Shateishael says, "Th'whut marks?"

Lilith motions at her own thighs, "Tawse."

Shateishael shakes his head sharply, his blonde ponytail whipping over one shoulder, "Not th'point, sorry." He sighs, turning to look towards her, his voice pained, "Ma'am... y'r gonna break his heart either way. Surely y'could 'least start gettin' him useta th'idea it ain't f'ever?" He makes a mental note, however, to ask Bella later what a 'taws' is.

Lilith shrugs gracefully, "I don't want to spoil the festival for him. After we're gone and he's back to being a nurse and not a pretty boy with a pretty Mistress in the middle of the desert, then I can start weaning him."

Shateishael nods tightly and doesn't say anything else. Instead he starts to bring his beer can to his lips again... then pauses, realizing he's temporarily lost his appetite. He sighs, lowering his hand and murmuring, "'S gonna be whutever y'want either way, I guess." He draws another slow breath, then rumbles, "Well... any other a' th'questions y'wanna answer?"

Lilith smiles and shakes her head, "Not out of that batch, no."

Shateishael nods silently, still unhappy about the horrific lie. He sits quietly for a moment, then shrugs, "Guess turn 'bout's fair play. Y'got any questions you wanna ask me? Same deal, 'm thinkin'." He's bleakly amused to note Lilith has completely ignored any question of her freedom being bought at the cost of the freedom of others. Still, considering what just happened with poor Joe... Slate suspects she just doesn't care.

Lilith smiles and just shakes her head, "Not at the moment, no, but I'll think on it."

Shateishael nods silently again... then abruptly rises, pacing over to the empties bin. He takes one last gulp to finish the beer, then closes his fist to crush the can entirely. He sighs, studying the mangled can... then opens his fist to drop it with a small clink! into the pile of dead cans. The metaphor does not escape him... he raises his head to study Lilith, rumbling quietly, "Think that's it, then, ma'am. Wuz nice a' ya t'talk t'me." He courteously nods, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat and rumbling, "Ma'am," before turning to walk away. His gait is almost prowling, the wary pace of a predator which knows it's under observation by something dangerous. He's not entirely sure his plan to dissuade Lilith is working... and he is sure he can't accurately predict her reaction when she realizes he's leaving for good.

Lilith inclines her head and watches Slate walk away, smiling quite casually. "Take care of my daughter, Slate." She stretches and stands, climbing back into the trailer.

Shateishael sighs in quiet relief, letting his stride stretch into his more normal gait. As he walks he swings his arms around, trying to loosen himself up and feel a bit better. Shortly thereafter he's back in his own campsite, much relaxed. He calls softly, "Bellisima? Y'here, beautiful?"

Bella calls from inside the tent, "In here, love..."

Shateishael steps into the tent and whews! "There. Tha's done with." He gives Bella a tight hug, if she doesn't mind.

Bella stands up from where she was working on sketching something out on a dog-eared sketchpad and wraps her arms around Slate, resting her head against his chest, "Think you bored her sufficiently?"

Shateishael rumbles, "Sure hope so. Consid'rin' how many a' m'questions she jus' ignored, 'n that she made no effort t'make a guest welcome, 'm guessin' yeah. Creepy how she's handlin' that poor kid." He's silent a moment, then adds curiously, "Whut's a 'taws,' sweetheart?"

Bella nods, not making any effort to explain her creator's behavior, but looking perhaps a bit sad. The question about the tawse makes her blink and pull back, looking a tad worried, "When did the subject of a tawse come up?"

Shateishael says, "Th'kid, Joe, had whut she called 'taws' marks on his thighs. Looked 'lot like he got hit wi'leather belt coupla times?" He considers... then rumbles slowly, "Lotta times, ac'sh'ly."

Bella ahhs, "It's a strap... usually split so it's got more than one tail. You use it like a belt for spanking someone."

Shateishael says, "Ah, 'kay. Figger'd had t'be sump'in' like that." He sighs, removing the cowboy hat with one hand and rubbing his forehead with the back of his other forearm... then smiles a bit sadly at Bella, "Well... cain't help those that don' wanna be helped. So... wanna head off t'th'fae'ncampment, sweetheart?"

Bella nods and smiles up at Slate, "Sure. I could do with visiting now."

Shateishael's smile is a bit more natural when he hugs her again. Then he strips out of his "visitin' togs" and, looking more relaxed in just his faded jeans and boots, grins at Bella, "'Kay! Le's go see if'n Miz Peony 'r th'Jotunsons 're 'roun'..." his grin gets mischievous, "'R even if pretty Rosie's escaped yet!"

Bella laughs and lets Slate get comfortable. She's wearing a long flared skirt of red cotton and a sports bra, "I wonder if he's been trying to."

Shateishael grins, checking to make sure his Thor's Hammer is hanging correctly and his ring is in place, "'Spect not. 'S okay... 'll be fun t'tease him 'bout it later!" He cheerfully offers Bella his arm, "Ma'am, may I have th'honor?" Bella slides her hand through the crook of Slate's elbow and nestles against his side in a way that would make it hard to walk if the pair of them didn't have a lot of practice walking like this. Shateishael very much enjoys the sensation of lovely Bella walking next to him, so he's a bit distracted as they stroll through the glamour surrounding the big pavilion. He grins happily down at her, then looks around to see who's visible.

Bella smiles up at Slate, "I may have to ask Peony that question you were wondering about..." she murmurs as they cross the border of the encampment. The fae are out and about in fairly large numbers. Some of them seem to be starting to dismantle their smaller encampments.

Shateishael chuckles quietly, "If'n y'do, an' it's not too forward a' me, I'd like t'know too?"

Bella grins, eyes twinkling, "Just try to keep me from explaining it. Possibly with demonstrations..." As if discussion of him brought him over, Ajax rounds the central pavilion, wearing a heavy leather apron and carrying what looks like a small mahogany chest.

Shateishael blinks a bit puzzledly at Bella, "You want me to... not let you do sump'in'...?" Bella grins upon seeing the young centaur and waves to him, gently guiding Slate in his direction. Shateishael nods and waves politely to Ajax, "Hey there," then looks back inquiringly at Bella, murmuring softly as he moves along with her, "Is this one 'a those subby things y' were tellin' me 'bout thatcha enjoyed?"

Bella glances up at Slate curiously, "Uhm... no, but I'll explain that later."

Shateishael nods to Bella, then smiles at Ajax, "Whatch'all up to? Folks packin' up already?"

Ajax smiles broadly, "Slate! Bella! I was just on my way to bring you a gift from my uncle." The Ethereal looks around, taking in the movement of the camp, "Oh, some folks are leaving early because of commitments among the humans."

Shateishael looks surprised, "A gift? Whoa... awful nice 'a him." He adds, looking around, "Commitments like jobs?"

The chest that Ajax is carrying is only small really in that it's not the size of a steamer trunk. He chuckles with that voice that sounds almost too deep for his youth, "Yes, like jobs mostly. Some of us pass in the human realm."

Shateishael nods, looking curiously at the large chest, then grins, "That thing's big 'nuff t'put Miz Peony in! Whut is it?"

Ajax looks at it and grins even wider, "It's part of the gift. Would you like to see now?"

Shateishael gives a half-curious, half-bemused grin at Ajax, then glances at Bella, still grinning, "S'okay wi'you, beautiful?" He remembers how much she loves presents!

Bella is actually bouncing on her toes a little, grinning, "I like presents early and often."

Shateishael laughs, gently hugging the bouncy Bright, then straightening and grinning at the centaur, "Lessee, then!"

Ajax grins and looks around and ends up using a log someone has put out to sit outside their tent as a rest for the chest. Reaching into a heavy pocket on his apron, he pulls out a delicate key and unlocks the old-fashioned padlock on the chest. Shateishael watches with interest -- although Bella's exuberance is rather distracting! The young centaur tosses the key toward Slate, "That's yours now." He tips back the lid on the chest and motions the two angels over to have a closer look.

Shateishael absently catches the key in one hand, tucking it carefully into a jeans pocket as he leans to look over Bella at the chest's contents. Bella has dropped to her knees to look into the chest and her eyes widen at the pieces inside the chest. "What... uhm, which is whose? I mean, I know which one's Slate's..." And in fact there is little doubt which of the three objects nested in crimson velvet is a gift for the Seraph. Along with a silver tiara decorated with multicolored stones and a pair of wrist-cuffs rimmed with intricate engraving, there is an exquisite double-bladed sword. The line of the blade starts wide and then narrows for a way before widening slightly and then curving down to a tip. The hilt is inlaid with black stone with a carving of ivy on it. With the sword, there's a scabbard of leather tooled with silver vinework.

Shateishael raises a surprised eyebrow, a quiet whistle escaping his lips -- he's been gifted a sword crafted by the student of Hephaestos and Waylon Smith?! He rumbles in quiet awe to Ajax, "This is..." He shakes his head, lacking words for how impressed he is! He looks back into the box, softly adding, "...dayum." A moment later he smiles, "Bettin' th'tiara's y'rs, beautiful." He wipes his hands reflexively on the thighs of his jeans, then reaches carefully into the box, removing the tiara. He smiles down at Bella, and if she doesn't shift he'll gently settle it on her shining hair.

Ajax beams, nodding, "Yes, the crownlet is for the Seductress."

The tiara is a fairly simple one; the elegance and beauty of it is in the way the beaten silver swoops and dips rather than on the number of swirls and elaborations. The gems are amethysts, garnets, and aventurine. Bella grins as it's settled on her head. "This is too generous..." the Bright murmurs, though she's obviously very happy about the gift.

Shateishael smiles slowly, admiring his beautiful lover as much as the craftsmanship of the beautiful piece. At her words he nods, looking with faint bemusement at Ajax, "Yeah... it's... wow, Ajax. I... dunno whut t'say."

Ajax chuckles again, humor that is totally lacking in his uncle playing in his features, "Normally we say 'thank you' when we get a gift."

Shateishael flushes, looking sheepish, "Sorry, guy. Thank you -- very sincerely! This's amazin'!"

Ajax nods and smiles, eyes sparkling with pride and amusement, "The scabbard was my work. The sword and the other pieces were uncle's work. I'd almost suspect the old sourpuss likes you."

Shateishael snorts in laughter! then grins, turning back to the box and reaching carefully -- and eagerly! -for the sword and scabbard. He smiles as he admires the scrollwork on the scabbard, then hefts the sword experimentally, pleased with the balance. He grins, holding it up to the sunlight and rumbles, "Learned t'fight wi'swords like this'n! Like comin' home..." Ajax smiles, watching Slate as he admires the blade -- it doesn't feel quite heavy enough to be steel. Shateishael rumbles thoughtfully, "Silver?" He makes a mental note to be careful of the edge if so, since silver's a soft metal.

Ajax nods, "Well, partially. It's a titanium-silver alloy. Bitch to work with." One callused hand motions toward the scabbard, "The gewgaws are all silver, though."

Shateishael carefully sheathes the sword, laying it gently back on the red velvet -- then he turns, grinning delightedly as he exuberantly hugs Ajax, "Dayum, guy! This's 'mazin' -- thank you both!"

Ajax hugs back with a boom of laughter, "You're welcome! Uncle thought you might like to have a weapon you could use to defend yourself with or spar with that won't maim your opponent."

Shateishael looks a bit surprised, considering, "Not maim? ...y'mean not like steel, 'r is there more t' it than that?"

Ajax nods, "Like steel. Sometimes it can be needful to defend oneself while causing as little damage as possible to one's opponent."

Shateishael nods, well pleased, "Damn good idea. I'll hafta thank y'r uncle personally f'that kindness." He beams at Bella, "'N you look gorgeous, lover!" then chuckles, "'N bet th' li'l Rosebud'll love th'cuffs!"

Ajax smiles and nods, "Uncle said they suited his personality."

Shateishael tosses his head back with a burst of laughter! then grins wickedly at Bella, "Yeah, guess they got th'li'l flow'r pegged!" Bella hasn't said a word, but she's beaming as only a very girly girl can when given a gorgeous piece of jewelry. Shateishael chuckles at Bella's gleeful expression, leaning to gently brush a kiss against her lips, then murmur in quietly heartfelt tones, "Y'look like a queen, beautiful."

Ajax nods, rumbling, "Indeed she does." The apprentice smith's hands move over the wood of the chest, "The chest was made by a friend."

Shateishael glances over his shoulder, rumbling curiously, "Wood worker, hm? Who wuz it? W'd like t'thank them too?"

Ajax smiles quietly, "He doesn't come out much. He's on uncle's farm right now."

Shateishael looks curious, then a bit wistful, "Soun's like y'r uncle's got quite th'spread." He pauses, then adds puzzledly, "Wait. Wuz th'chest made already?"

Ajax nods, "It was, but Uncle had been keeping some of his things in it. He said he wasn't giving good gifts in a shoddy box."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, "Damn nice a' Karl, 's all I c'n say!" He strokes gentle fingers along the smooth woodworking, adding admiringly, "Beautiful work! Who wuz it, if'n you c'n say?"

Ajax chuckles, "I shouldn't say, actually. As I said, he's a very private sort of person. Not very able to deal with people at all."

Shateishael tilts his head curiously at Ajax, then simply nods. He's a bit surprised, but not going to push... although he makes a mental note to later check the bottom for a possible maker's mark! Instead, he examines one of the cuffs for Rosie, admiring the workmanship on it as well before carefully replacing it. He looks at Bella... then grins. He can carry the box while she continues to wear the lovely tiara. He carefully closes the box, scooping it up under one arm, then cheerfully says to Ajax, "We wuz lookin' f'either Miz Peony 'r th'Jotunsons, but if'n y'r uncle's acceptin' visitors jus' now, w'd love t'thank him personally?"

Ajax nods and turns around, "He'd be happy to talk to you, I'm sure. He's just working on some things and didn't want to leave the forge."

Bella nods and smiles up at Ajax, "Did you help him with the work?"

The young centaur grins even more widely, "I designed the cuffs and the tiara. Uncle made everything, though."

Shateishael raises an eyebrow, impressed again, "You did th'design? Gotta real nice eye f'that, son."

Ajax doesn't even attempt to look humble, chest swelling a bit. The compliment apparently means quite a lot to him, "Thank you, Slate. I'm decent at jewelry, but something about swords and blades is escaping me. Can't quite get the balance right. Drives Uncle right up a wall."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, "Takes a bit. If'n y'wanna, stop by our place, 'n we c'n play wi'it some. Sometimes all it takes is 'nother person's pointa view t'make sump'in' click inta place in y'r head."

Ajax chuckles and nods, "Would you like me to take you to see Uncle?"

Shateishael grins, adding a touch ruefully, "I c'n do nice pendants, but jewelry sets? They all tend t'have a kinda martial slant to 'em after awhiles." He nods, "Yeah, please, Ajax. We'd liketa thank him, 'n talkta Miz Peony, 'n I promised th'Jotunsens we'd do few rounds a' swordwork too." He pats the box a touch proudly, "'N now I don' hafta worry 'bout which sword t'use. Ver' cool!" He considers a bit, then rumbles thoughtfully to Ajax and Bella, "Hey... y'all think th'flow'r ladies'd mind gettin' Healin' Sung over 'em by a horse?"

Bella peers at Slate for a second, "Thea? I didn't realize Thea knew Healing."

Shateishael grins a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, "Um... yeah... she kinda swore at me 'til I foun' her someone who c'd teach 'em t'her. Said she'd leave teeth marks on me if'n I din', consid'rin' th'kinda thin's I tended t'do, an' that I din' know any Healin' Songs m'self..." He mutters amusedly under his breath, "Pushy mares..."

Bella smirks slightly, "Seems like you have a propensity for pushy women." Ajax wisely stays silent.

Shateishael laughs, sliding an arm about Bella's shoulders, "Fines' kind, sweetheart. So... d'y'think they'd mind, 'r not? Th'flow'r ladies, I mean?"

As the angels are being led around the pavilion, Ajax answers, "There's no shame in being non-human. I doubt they'll mind."

Shateishael nods, looking pleased, "Good! Then if'n we see them, 'd liketa stop by f'a moment a' visitin' wi'them too." He grins, rumbling amusedly, "Better not be no shame, c'nsidr'in' whut we are..."

Ajax chuckles, nodding, "Maybe I should have said humanoid, then."

Shateishael smiles, pacing along quietly with the young centaur and looking around with interest. "So... y'all got any idea who Bacchus'll be bringin' 'long t'th'Ranch wi'Soma? He mentioned sump'in' 'bout 'least two bodyguards?"

The sound of Karl at work at his forge is quickly audible -- hammer on anvil rings with the rhythmic clang of a skilled smith. The faces moving around the camp are the sorts which are familiar because of seeing them in passing, but there are none of the angels' particular friends. Shateishael nods politely to anyone who looks over, and idly wishes he could get to know more of them... considering that might be helpful if he meets them again in the Winter Court. Still, one thing at a time. He looks up, smiling, at the comfortingly familiar ring of a blacksmith at work. When the portable forge comes into view, Karl is hard at work, arms flexing and back bent as he works with hammer and tongs. Shateishael sets the beautiful box down carefully next to a convenient stump, then settles on it himself, patiently waiting until the blacksmith is at a good stopping point.

Ajax stands off to the side as well, arms over his chest. For just a moment he looks very strongly like his uncle. Bella moves behind Slate, stroking her hands over the lines of his shoulders. After just a few moments it becomes obvious Karl is working a blade, just starting from the blank he crafted from a bar of a metal too white to be steel. Shateishael sighs in quiet contentment, the fingers of one hand lightly brushing over one of Bella's hands on his shoulders, touched inside by the wonderfully familiar comfort of this moment: a blacksmith, good friends, and the woman he adores. He smiles faintly, wondering what he did to be so blessed.

The shape of the blade slowly becomes visible under the skillful hammer-work. It's a similar leaf-shape to the sword just presented to Slate, but the proportions are much, much smaller. It sits somewhere between short sword and dagger. Shateishael tilts his head thoughtfully, wondering who it's for... Peony, perhaps? He measures visually, guesstimating. With the number of small people seen in the camp, it could be for anyone of several fae. It looks perhaps just a little large for Peony's delicate hands.

Eventually the blade is roughed out and Karl uses his tongs to thrust it into a huge wooden barrel, steam billowing up as the heated metal makes contact with the water. Shateishael simply watches with interest, enjoying observing a master smith at work. He doesn't often see folks of Karl's skill, after all. Absently he murmurs to Bella, "If'n y'feet get tired, lover, c'n sit on me... this might be 'bit?"

Bella chuckles quietly and shakes her head, leaning over just a bit to hug Slate from behind, murmuring, "Mmm... no, thank you. I think I should stay out of your lap for a bit."

Shateishael blinks and hms at her, distracted from his focused observation of Karl... then grins suddenly, realizing what she means. He runs his hands lightly over her arms about him, and sighs in quiet happiness again, "'Kay. But if'n y'change y'mind, s'cool too."

Karl turns and uses a dipper to pour water from another barrel over his own head. Catching sight of the angels and his nephew/apprentice, he blinks, perhaps surprised, "Seems all of ya move faster'n I expected."

Shateishael grins at Karl, nodding politely, "Mornin', master smith."

Karl chuckles and inclines his head, "Mornin' yerself, Smith." He motions at the chest, "I see y'already opened th' box. Balance on it good f'r y'r hand?"

Shateishael nods, beaming with pleasure as he rises, "Yep. Beautiful work, Karl -- thank you!" He steps forward, giving the older centaur a tight hug.

The centaur smith jumps slightly, starting back but not quite taking a step. After a moment he chuckles and hugs Slate back, slapping the Seraph roughly on the back, "Y'r welcome. Wanted t'give y' somethin' y' could use to spar with."

Shateishael steps back himself, still beaming, "Damn nice a' ya, guy! An' th'tiara 'n cuffs're beautiful too. Bella loves hers, 'n 'm sure Rosie'll love his." He glances over at Bella, still wearing the tiara, and his eyes light up a bit.

Karl inclines his head again, almost smirking, "Neither of 'em seemed the martial sort, so I made pretties for 'em. Ajax designed 'em. Think he's gonna make a better whitesmith than black."

Shateishael chuckles, "Ayup, he's gotta real nice eye f'that!" He looks curiously at Karl, adding thoughtfully, "Why cuffs in p'tic'lar, though? Any reason?"

Ajax looks like he's trying not to chuckle, but he can't quite stifle a smile. Karl, however, does chuckle, shrugging broad shoulders, "They seemed t'fit him. He seems to like to be in service."

Shateishael smiles quietly, considering, then nods slowly, "Yeah, guess he does a'that... although there're diff'rent kindsa service too." He adds, "Thanks again, guys. These're 'mazin' gifts t'give, spesh'ly t'th' likes a' us." He folds his arms and rumbles thoughtfully, "Y'all gonna be able t'come visit th'Ranch 'fore Solstice?"

Ajax and Karl look at one another, the older centaur giving the younger a slight nod. It's Ajax that answers the question, "Seems Uncle and I have been tapped as bodyguards."

Shateishael looks pleased, "Both a'ya? Excellent! Thea'll be thrilled, 'm bettin'." He grins at Bella, adding, "We c'n clear out th' livin' room some too, so ev'ryone c'n fit." He looks at the two centaurs, "Y'all got anythin' y'need t'be more comfy when y'r visitin'?"

Ajax again is the one to speak, "Well, our quarters are home are very much like a stable. We know you have a horse for a companion, but do you have spare stalls?"

Shateishael says, "Um... no, th'barn's jus' gotta big open area so if'n there's more'n one horse Thea c'n curl up near alla them. But th'house's designed so she c'n c'mon in'n p'ticipate too... if'n y'all wanted we c'd shift things 'bit t'hold three horse-sized folks?" He amends, "Well, guess it's more like th'barn's got one nice stall, but it's a doozie?"

Both centaurs look pleased; Ajax even looks slightly impressed, "It sounds as if any accommodations we might need should be easy. It's good to know we won't be too much of an imposition."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, "Nah, y'all won' be any trouble 'tall -- Thea's been wi'me f'coupla years now, 'n ain't much f'shuttin' m'frien's outside at night." He adds a bit hopefully, "So, y'all think maybe sometime soon th'unicorns 'n Pegasus might stop by too? Bettin' Thea'd be in raptures t'meet them?"

Karl is actually smiling, "Might be able to swing that."

Shateishael beams, "Dayum, that'd be great!" He swings his arms a bit, so happy that he's starting to feel overly energetic -- and when he realizes he's doing that he laughs, pulling his wallet as he adds, "If'n y'all need anythin' else, jus' let us know, 'kay? Here... this's m'business card, wi' alla m'contact info." He hands the closest centaur a slightly battered business card.

Ajax takes the card and tucks it into one of the pockets of his apron, smiling. He pulls out a battered leather wallet and hands over a card of his own, "Usually put these in with the th'stuff we sell on the 'net."

Shateishael nods, accepting and doing a quick perusal of the card before carefully tucking it into his wallet. The card is done on a heavy cardstock, textured almost like linen. There's a crest done in gold leaf featuring a horseshoe with a spear and a sword crossed in front of it, the whole enclosed in a circle. The name of the business is apparently Equus Metalworking and there are several forms of contact information on it. The name listed is James Chevalier. Shateishael grins, appreciating the symbolism. "'S great." He sketches a relaxed salute to the two centaurs, then carefully collects up the box. He pauses, looking at it... then looks up at Karl. He rumbles curiously, "Asked Ajax who made th'box, 'n he said couldn' say. C'n you?" He looks inquiringly between the two centaurs, "'N anythin' else we c'n do f'ya right now, 'fore we get outta y'r hair 'n letcha get backta work?"

Karl smiles slightly, "'F y'ever visit the farm, y'can meet 'im. Till then, 'fraid not."

Shateishael nods, "'Kay." He waves to them both again, smiling, "Thanks, y'all -- these're truly princely gifts, 'n y'all're too kind." He doesn't ask about visiting the farm just yet... maybe in a year. For now he heads off with Bella, happily looking for the folks he'd like to speak with.

Bella pads over before they leave and murmurs her own thanks to Karl, pushing up as far as she can to kiss his cheek. The centaur blinks, looking surprised and pleased. Ajax gets much the same treatment, but Bella murmurs something to him that makes him laugh. He whispers something back to her and drops a wink. When she finally follows after Slate, she's giggling softly. Shateishael grins a little inquiringly at Bella once they're out of earshot, and also rumbles quietly, "Hope I c'n think a' sump'in' as nice t'gift back t' 'em both. Wuz jus' 'bout stunned when I saw th'workmanship!"

The Bright slides her hand across the small of Slate's back, "I'm sure we'll figure out something." She glances over her shoulder to make sure they're out of earshot and grins up at Slate, "I asked about him and Peony."

Shateishael laughs, tossing his head back, then grins down at Bella, his eyes dancing, "Whut'd he say?" Amusedly he mutters, "Sure been quite th'edjicashun s'far!"

Bella nuzzles her head against Slate's shoulder, eyes twinkling, "He said it was part glamour and part realizing sex doesn't have to mean fucking."

Shateishael hms thoughtfully, considering that... then rumbles, "Whut's he mean by fuckin', then, lover?"

Bella licks her lips slightly, "I think he means penetration."

Shateishael says, "Oh." He falls silent again, considering... then smiles relaxedly, "Well, guess we'll find out soon 'nuff, if'n Miz Peony wants t'talk 'bout it." As if her name summoned her, Peony's red head is visible through the sparse crowd, standing with the nearly identical half-giants. Shateishael grins, "'N there she is!" He starts heading easily that way, weaving between folks, and adds to Bella, "Wonder whut she'n th'Jotunsens're doin'?"

Bella grins and shrugs, "Let's ask." She all but skips over. It's the half-giants that catch sight of the approaching angels, both broad, friendly faces breaking into smiles.

Shateishael grins and waves to them with his free hand, the other arm wrapped around the precious box, "Heya, guys! Whatch'all up to this fine day?" He's following a touch more sedately... both to not jostle the box and, more importantly -- because it's so much fun to watch Bella exuberant!

The boys are both girded for battle, so to speak, though neither of them is carrying their swords. The larger of the two speaks, "Just challenged slowpoke here to a wrestling match. Think I finally figured out his weak spot." The second half-giant snorts and just shakes his head no.

Shateishael grins, carefully setting the box on the sidelines -- he's not surprised a bit of a crowd is gathering. "Soun's cool. Y'min' folks watchin'?" He nods politely and smiles at Peony, "Ma'am. Nice t'see ya 'gain."

Peony has already exchanged hugs of greeting with Bella and she puts her hands on her hips, "I just get a nod?"

Shateishael laughs, then cheerfully scoops Peony up and whirls her around in an exuberant hug, "Well, if'n y'r askin'!"

Peony holds on tight for the twirl, hugging back and laughing as she's set back on her feet, "That's more like it!"

The half-giants exchange one of those communicative looks and the one that has done most of the speaking every time says, "Don't mind a bit. Just be careful how close to stand."

Shateishael grins down at her, not immediately removing his hands if she doesn't seem to mind. He's struggling with how to ask her for the favor... finally he just takes a deep breath and rumbles, "So, um, wuz wond'rin'..." He blinks at the giants' commentary, then nods, glancing around to make sure he, Bella, and Peony are at a safe distance.

The half-giants turn and finish marking out a rather large ring. The other Ethereals are effortlessly avoiding its perimeter. Peony tips her head, not stepping away from Slate's touch, "Wondering what?"

Shateishael blinks, looking back at Peony, "Er, wha- oh!" He tilts his head, looking away a bit sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head, "Uh... yeah. Right. Well. So I um, wuz wond'rin' if'n um... I mean, jus' if y'r not busy're nuthin', y'know? Oh, an' y'could come visit th'ranch too, if'n y'wanted? An', um... well..." He looks around, then takes another breath and looks determinedly down at Peony again, "So, um... yeah... wouldjateachme'crobaticstoo, maybe?"

Bella stifles a laugh and Peony grins up at Slate and says, "Say again, half-speed? I didn't quite catch the last bit. I'd love to visit, though."

Shateishael flushes a bit, "I wuz... um..." he takes another breath, forcing himself to speak slowly this time, "-willya teach me acrobatics, please?"

Peony puts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes and pretending to consider carefully, "Well... it would mean fairly regular visits, and you'd have to deal with me wearing my leotards, but I guess we can do th..." In the midst of the word there's a thud hard enough to be felt in the soles of everyone's feet as one of the half-giants throws the other to the ground.

Shateishael is a bit preoccupied, and the warrior in him has been keeping half an eye on the giants anyway -- he simply picks up Peony and shifts her slightly so he's between her and the giants, then nods inquiringly, "G'wan?"

Peony chuckles at the casual way Slate moves her out of the way of any perceived danger, "I was saying I guess we can do that."

Shateishael beams and hugs her happily, "Thanks! 'N there's plen'y a' room at th'Ranch -- wuz designed wi'visitors in mind. Oh, an' we c'n innerduce ya t'Thea too." He straightens, actually looking at the young giants and the crowd around them to make sure everyone's okay. Everyone around the ring seems fine, the Jotunsens grappling with one another very much like classic Greek wrestling. Shateishael nods quietly to himself, then pulls his wallet and offers Peony one of the battered Circle H Ranch business cards, "Call if'n y'have any trouble findin' us, 'kay?"

Bella is standing behind Slate, one hand on her chin as he makes arrangements to spend a great deal of time half-dressed and sweaty with the diminutive woman. Peony takes the card and tucks it into the bodice of her shirt, "I've got some cards around here with my glassworks information on it."

Shateishael beams at Bella, happily announcing, "She said yeah!" There is perhaps still the slightest hint of genuine and pleased surprise in Slate's voice. When Slate has turned away from her to look at Bella, Peony grins and gives the Bright a little thumbs-up, quickly composing herself into her normal demeanor before the Seraph can turn back around.

Bella grins, "I heard." She steps close and puts an arm around Slate.

Shateishael happily hugs Bella, beaming at both the women. He's getting better at not looking flat-out shocked when lovely women are specifically nice to him, but he still looks inordinately pleased. He sighs happily after a moment, and looks up at the wrestling giants. He's got an urge to put an arm around Peony too, but he's not quite sure that'd be proper... she was helping Bella protect him against Lilith before, after all, and this is different.

Instead, Slate lets his martial training come to the fore as he watches the wrestling. It was sword-work he promised to help the young giants with, but he recalls they did mention having difficulty with learning martial arts from folk who were tremendously shorter than they. The half-giants move like they've been doing this for a while and seem to anticipate one another's movements and holds. They're actually laughing as they struggle together.

Slate needn't have worried about Peony -- as he turns to face the ring, the women move in from either side, arms slipping around his waist and overlapping one another. Shateishael blinks, looking down for a moment -- then breaking out into a broad, very pleased smile! He gently slides an arm about each of them, feeling wonderfully sturdy and useful and comfortable to lean on... and goes back to watching the young giants. He grins, as happy to see two so enjoying themselves in physical effort, as he is thrilled to be there with Bella and Peony. He muses internally as he watches. Curious -- he actually feels... sorry for Lilith. She can't ever have moments like this, unless she lies about who and what she is... he's not sure she can even love, really. [Huh... I think I pity her. What an odd thought... and also, poor thing!]

The sound of hooves comes trotting up behind the angels and the leprechaun as the slightly smaller half-giant uses a trick of leverage to pin his larger relative. Shateishael glances curiously over his shoulder when he's fairly sure the likelihood of a giant flying past is quite low. The hooves, of course, belong to Ajax, who has shed his apron and come over to watch the contest. He cheers the half-giants and trots up on Bella's other side, grinning, "Might have to teach the winner a lesson."

Shateishael snorts amusedly at Ajax, then turns back to watching, "Might be fun, yeah." Admittedly, he doesn't have much inclination to move, but if the lovely ladies decide to shift he's willing to go try tumbling giants and centaurs -- it'd be new for him if nothing else! The bout ends with the larger of the enormous wrestlers defeated. He stands and clasps forearms with his friend, half-brother, and opponent. Shateishael grins at Ajax, then calls in Norse to the two Jotunsens, "You would perhaps like a new opponent?"

The winner responds in the same language, "If you feel safe grappling, certainly, Warrior. I warn you, I give no quarter." It's said with a half-humorous tone, but there's also a note of pride.

Shateishael blinks a bit startledly -- he'd meant Ajax! He opens his mouth to reply... then pauses, his own love of a good fight surfacing. He hesitates, then looks down at the two women, "Um... y'all be upset if'n I, um, wrestled a bit?"

Bella and Peony look at one another across Slate's back and chuckle together. "Of course not, lover. Go wrestle."

Shateishael beams at them both, giving a gentle hug -- then drops to one knee to remove his boots and shed everything except his jeans. He carefully strings his beautiful ring on the thong of his Thor's Hammer, then hands it to Bella. "Keep this safe f'me, please, beautiful?"

Bella loops the necklace around her neck so that the pendant and ring both fall inside her bodice, "Safe and sound."

Shateishael smiles warmly at her, then leans to kiss her lightly on the top of the head, "Wish me well, please, beautiful." Then he turns, stretching and swinging his arms a bit to loosen up as he heads into the circle. To the giants he rumbles, "Y'all know I dunno classic Greek wrestlin', yeah? Jus' know grapplin' 'n some martial arts. That 'kay?"

Ymir grins as he leaves the ring, "We only limit with one another for extra challenge. It's something of a hobby."

Shateishael nods amiably, "'Kay." He looks inquiringly at Bergelmir, sliding easily into ready position. Bergelmir matches the stance and starts to move around the ring to his left, slowly shifting into a more relaxed stance. Both he and his brother move with an almost surprising grace, though it seems to be matched with lack of speed.

Shateishael lets his conscious mind fade out a bit as he turns easily, continuing to face the young giant. The smaller half-giant lowers his stance slightly, a grin spread across his face. It's not feral, but a joyful expression -- the look of someone who is doing their favorite thing in the whole world. Shateishael tends to go more 'no-mind' expressionless... but he also is starting to feel the enjoyment rising. As he mentioned to Bella not so long ago, fighting and dancing were his joys for centuries.

Bergelmir gives ample warning that he's going to rush Slate. The motion is quick for his size, but to Slate's war-trained eyes it's visible a mile away. The half-giant doesn't roar or huff, just lunges across the circle with arms outstretched to attempt a takedown of his angelic opponent. Shateishael ducks easily under the young giant's arm in a flowing, graceful move that leaves him in position behind the young man, still watching thoughtfully. To his eyes Bergelmir has lots of innate talent -- but needs more training. Still, Slate's not his sensei, nor is he the type of fighter/instructor who uses humiliation to teach -- so he doesn't trip or smack the young giant thundering by him.

The young half-giant whirls around to face Slate again, his grin even wider. He shifts slightly, some of the looseness going out of his limbs. The fact that Slate evaded him seems to actually please the young giant. Shateishael sways slowly into another ready pose, waiting with relaxed pleasure for the next attack. Bergelmir moves slowly across the ring, not trying a rush this time. Instead he's inviting Slate to close with him, eyes enthusiastic. With the happiness of the competition on his face, it's easy to see the half-giant is really very young.

Shateishael slides one foot forward, and as the young giant shifts to defend against the upraised fist, Slate's foot lashes out in a swift kick to gut. Bergelmir grunts as the kick connects with his stomach and staggers backward a step. His next move is to try to sweep Slate's feet out from underneath him with a low, half-circle motion of his leg.

Shateishael is slightly staggered by the blow, but recovers quickly and lashes out with a quick strike of his fist. Bergelmir spins half-around, staggering back again and shaking his head, half-stunned. He takes a moment to recover before swinging his own fist around in a roundhouse punch aimed at Slate's midsection. Despite the punishment meted out by the sparring with the angel, he's still grinning.

Shateishael is equally staggered by the punch. A moment later he lashes out with a foot again. Bergelmir grunts again as the loss of balance makes him step awkwardly, nearly tripping over his own feet, leaving him with no real move except to try a tackle again. As the young giant rushes Slate, the older angel simply rolls with it rather than attempting to dodge. Taken off-guard by the purposeful fall, Bergelmir rolls across the ring, breath knocked half out of him. Shateishael rolls back up to his feet by using the giant's own momentum against himself, shoving the young man into the ground as he does so.

Bergelmir squirms and pushes against Slate, surprised to find himself pinned by the angel. He actually laughs gleefully once he realizes it and slaps the ground three times. Shateishael bounces back, releasing the young man immediately, then bows politely. Bergelmir pushes himself to his feet and bows from the waist, eyes meeting Slate's. Ymir strides into the circle, laughing happily, "Yes! Surprise! Why didn't I think of letting him take me down?"

Shateishael takes a deep breath, pulling himself back into normal mode, and grins at Bergelmir. In Norse he rumbles, "Thank you; that was good exercise. You're one of the strongest entities I've ever met." His tone is a bit rueful... if there's one thing he's learned about the fae in this surprising last two weeks, it's that they can do everything angels can do, and usually better than he. He bows again, then steps out of the ring.

Bergelmir lowers his gaze and says in Norse, "You do me an honor, Warrior. I have not as much skill as I would like. Strength carries one only so far."

Shateishael picks up his shirt and wipes his face, then pulls it on, rumbling to Bella, "Thanks f'keepin' an eye on m'things, beautiful. C'n I have th' jewelry now?" Then he looks at the Jotun and rumbles honestly, because he can do no less, "You don't need me training you, Bergelmir."

Ymir steps up beside his brother, patting the slightly shorter Jotunsen on the back, "No, I think we do, Warrior. I've never seen someone that much smaller than Bergelmir last half that long."

Shateishael studies the brothers silently for a moment... then (still in Norse) rumbles, "Who's your no-weapons combat instructor?"

It might not be the first thing Slate notices, but there are noises of appreciation and some of outright awe from the spectators. Ajax especially is watching with eager, glowing eyes, "By Hephaestos' Forge, Slate! That was spectacular." Ymir, however, answers the question in Norse, "I don't believe you've met him, Warrior. He's a half-troll."

Shateishael grins at Ajax, still musing a bit on how the Jotunsens fight as he rumbles relaxedly, "Thanks." He looks back at Ymir and nods, shifting back to Norse, "A pleasure to meet him it would be. Is he here?"

Peony and Bella move over, each of them hugging the half-dressed Seraph. Peony is the first to speak up, though, "Ajax is right, you know. These boys usually just overwhelm anyone smaller than a centaur."

Ymir shakes his head and smiles, "He is not. I believe Karl left him in charge of the farm. He is not much for people." The taller of the half-giants is also sticking to Norse.

Shateishael is quite distracted by Peony and Bella, turning his attention fully to happily returning their hugs! He sighs in quiet contentment after a moment, and Peony's words register. He grins at her, "Really? Guess gettin' m'ass kicked by folks bigger'n faster'n me wuz worth it then." He blinks at Ymir thoughtfully... then rumbles in Norse, "A... very private sort of person, eh? Let me guess... he has a relaxing hobby in carpentry?" He grins, adding, "What is his name? Do you think he would be willing to meet me?"

Both the half-giants look surprised, the emotion showing clearly on their broad, open faces. Ajax laughs, "Ahh, if only we weren't such a reticent people..."

Peony snorts and adds clarification, "If only we weren't all so polite about him, we'd say something more along the lines of 'He tends to literally growl at strangers,' instead of all using the same polite phrases."

Ymir echoes what Karl and Ajax have already said, worded slightly differently, "It is normally best to let him come to you. I spent three days on the farm letting myself be observed before beginning training with him."

Peony chuckles and shakes her head, explaining, "He is very protective of his name and has not taken an alias. And he is close to feral in some ways. Think of him as a skittish wild horse that you must let come to you." The little leprechaun grins widely, "That being said, I would wager he'd quite happily meet you. If nothing else, you could provide him a sparring partner."

Shateishael nods, shifting back to American English, "Gotcha." He grins, his tone amused as he lightly ruffles Peony's fiery hair back from her face, "Thanks, sweetlin', f'explainin' t'incredibly dense me." Bella, once again at Slate's back, positively beams as Slate uses the pet name for the leprechaun.

Peony wrinkles up her nose and grins, "No thanks necessary. They had to explain him to me as well. Half-trolls were always rare, and one that could be trusted not to try to tear other creatures apart is rarer still."

Shateishael nods slowly, "Wondered 'bout that. So... whut's th'other half? 'R d'I not really wanna know?" He adds calmly, "If'n he's like a horse, won' be no problem f'me t'wait."

Peony smiles lopsidedly, "His mother was human. His conception was neither desired nor gentle. But she was a very gentle woman herself. I believe it is her nature that has left him as calm as he is. His father's people are savages."

Shateishael nods quietly, still gently stroking Peony's hair as he thinks... he finally rumbles, "Must've been 'very brave woman. How old's he?"

Peony is starting to lean into Slate, pushing her head up against his hand almost like a small cat. She glances toward Ajax, "Do you know? I simply know that he has been around as long as far back as memory goes without clouding."

The centaur shrugs, smiling in his relaxed way, "I don't think he knows. I asked him once and he said, 'Old enough that it no longer matters.'"

Shateishael nods quietly again, "'Kay, then she's long gone t'her reward." He sighs quietly, "Poor kid." He looks around at the others, the smile returning to his face, "So... we gonna get t'see you tumble too, 'Jax? Never seen a centaur fight b'fore."

Ajax stretches his arms and twists at what would be the waist on a human, "Oh, aye. I plan on having a turn myself. But I was planning on wrestling with Bergelmir. I already know I'd be wiped up by you."

Shateishael looks curious, "Y'did? Howso?"

Ajax laughs, "Because Ymir and I are about equally matched, but I have never once bested Bergelmir."

Shateishael ahs, nodding, and grins, "Gotcha." He sighs again, still very quietly happy as Peony and Bella both lean against him, and rumbles, "Then don' lemme get in yer way, guy. Go have fun!" He's still slowly stroking Peony's hair, almost curling his arm about her head as she leans against him. The other hand reaches back to trail gentle fingers along Bella's side, where he can reach. He's a bit surprised -- and relieved, truth be told -- that he does actually have some useful martial training, compared to the handful of Ethereal warriors. He looks around the ring, studying the observers, curious as to how they see both martial endeavor, and him.

The observers around the wrestling ring are quite happily cheering the sparring pair on. It seems to be just a friendly contest, no bets being laid down on either Ajax or Ymir. The half-horse Ethereal and the half-giant are grinning at one another across the ring. A short bow and they step forward carefully, settling their stances and reaching out their right hands, grasping one another's forearms. Shateishael nods quietly to himself -- it would appear there's no particular opprobrium or élan attached to these events. He watches the next bout with alert interest -- he's never wrestled something quite as many-limbed as Ajax, and he's happy to pick up any pointers he can discern.

The half-giant and the centaur aren't wrestling traditionally. Instead, they seem to simply be trying to leverage one another out of the ring, setting their feet and trying to push the other backward. Shateishael tilts his head thoughtfully, studying them... he'd think the four-legger would have the advantage in such a combat, unless the Jotun has something like the Stone Attunement which allows the angel to root herself to the ground. He looks around the circle again, idly wondering if Gaelach's around anywhere... he'd like to put a metaphorical stake firmly through any silly rumors the peculiar moth fae might have started. For that matter... he grins. Been a few days since he's been here -- are any of the Ethereals he's met so far visible? He wonders amusedly how the recalcitrant Puck is doing with the Dragon Ladies, and if the two Egyptians are enjoying themselves, and whether the Flower Ladies can be persuaded to come to the Circle H in a few years, once the angels have proven themselves trustworthy.

Ymir doesn't seem as disadvantaged as logic would dictate. The Jotunsen's face is set in concentration and his feet don't move from where he first set them, no matter what pressure Ajax seems to put on him. For that matter the centaur's feet aren't moving, either. Shateishael frowns thoughtfully, 'listening' more carefully to the Symphony -- are either of the two using any curious abilities? Or, well, is anyone nearby doing so? A moment or two pass and Ymir's body leans far enough forward, pushing Ajax enough that the centaur's feet shift, moving backward less than two inches. The half-giant's height seems to be evening out the equine fae's lower center of gravity. Shateishael huhs quietly to himself. It appears there's nothing more than the magic of strength, muscle, and leverage being used. Then he smiles quietly as well -- he can certainly understand the centaur not being eager to be flipped around, considering the more delicate nature of equine legs -- and continues his idle study of the spectators. He's feeling quite lazily contented, hugging the two beautiful ladies who enjoy him.

Slate's examination of the surroundings does eventually show Gaelach standing across the ring, laughing with a pale-green skinned dryad and a female sidhe with dusky purple wings. Shateishael grins ruefully to himself, admiring the lovely wings on the sidhe even as he mentally marks the two women as probably wise to avoid -- especially for a simple, plainspoken Seraph. He blinks as something occurs to him... then he turns to rumble down to Peony, "Hey, sweetheart... are female leprechauns unusual 'r sumpin'?"

Bella and Peony are watching the wrestling, cheerfully rooting for Ajax. After a moment Peony grins up at the two angels, looking as if she's starting to say something, only to get caught off-guard by the question, "There are fewer of us than males -- maybe one in four."

Shateishael nods thoughtfully, "'Kay. Guess that 'xplains why I never heard a' any female leprechauns!" He grins, rumbling, "Lucky me... so, you were gonna say sumpin', Peony?"

Peony laughs quietly, "I was going to say that this is one of the more common ways Ajax and these boys contest. He's got powerful legs for a centaur, but they can be more easily broken than a more human leg."

Shateishael nods in agreement, "Yeah, seen that m'self too, wi' horses. Wuz wond'rin' how he'd handle that." He grins, "Well... an' wuz kinda wond'rin' how he'd handle bein' flipped, too! That'd be sumpthin' t'see."

Peony laughs and shakes her head, "I'd say he'd end up donkey-kicking someone for trying that."

Shateishael laughs aloud, a cheerful thunder, then glances at the ring, his eyes still dancing with amusement as he rumbles, "Heard it called mule-kickin', but that works, yeah!" He shakes his head amusedly, then rumbles more quietly, "Hey, c'rrect me if'n I'm wrong, but're those two ladies th'types that're good t'avoid?" His nod indicates the two fae with Gaelach. He idly studies the centaur as he asks, the martial side of him trying to analyze the best place to grab for the leverage to flip a horse... the bout in the ring is getting more intense, the two Ethereals taking half steps backward and forward as they work toward trying to make the other step out of the boundary.

Peony follows Slate's gaze and rolls her eyes, "Oh, aye, Maura you'd want to avoid. She's the little sapling. But Brigid you'd be safe with." The leprechaun smirks, "She hasn't the brains to be a danger. She's just easily swayed by flattery."

Shateishael nods quietly to Peony, unsmiling, "Poor Brigid, then. Nuthin' quite s'easy t'hurt as simple innocence." He sighs, his gaze going back to the ring... and eventually he grins in spite of himself, his eyes alight with excitement as he watches the two combatants. He wonders if they've ever tried aikido leverages on each other... he knows already from experience it'd work on the Jotun... but how would it work on a four-legged entity? Interesting question -- and one he's pretty sure his sensei never had to face! He grins again at the thought, then adds absently, "...'re pretty wings, though..."

Ymir dips his forward shoulder and pushes forward fiercely, the suddenness of the move taking Ajax just enough off guard that he skitters backward, a cry going up from the crowd as his rearmost hoof crosses the ring. Peony nods and examines the sidhe with a smile, "I don't know that she's an innocent. But, yes, she has gorgeous wings."

Shateishael groans with the rest of the crowd as Ajax's hoof slips -- and just as exuberantly cheers the winner a moment later! Then he glances down at Peony and grins, his eyes still fiercely alight. He has to take a breath to re-focus on the non-martial before he rumbles, "Meant more inna way a' bein' taken 'vantage of, sweetheart, but I get'cher meanin'."

Ajax trots over, laughing just as happily as if he had been the winner. The Jotunsen has also cleared out of the ring and a pair of short, broad young men have entered it, circling one another and grinning. They look as if they could be twins. Shateishael claps Ajax cheerfully on the human shoulder, congratulating him, then curiously asks -- does the centaur ever do regular wrestling, or does his shape preclude that? Ajax grins and claps Slate companionably on the back, "I can, but only if I shift my shape. I tried it in this form once, but Uncle caught me and I thought he was going to roar down the stars on my head."

Shateishael coughs startledly -- then laughs in spite of himself! "Oookay, yeah, c'n see how that might put a crimp in y'r style!" Still grinning, he adds, "Worried 'bout leg issues, eh?"

Ajax nods and smiles wryly, "Aye. He very logically reminded me that I can't exactly use crutches and traction isn't available for my body."

Shateishael chuckles rumblingly, "Yeah, 'at'd be a problem..." It takes him a few heartbeats to register the implications, though -- his head swings back towards Ajax, from having been watching the dwarves wrestle, and there's astonishment in his voice, "Wait -- 'jax, you tellin' me y'all don' have any healin' spells?!

The centaur actually looks somewhat sheepish, "Not many of us do, no. And those that do are rather widely scattered and in demand."

Shateishael stares at Ajax for a moment... then rumbles in quiet amusement, "Well now... guess y'all 're gonna really like meetin' m'lady lead mare then!" He grins, clapping Ajax's shoulder again, "An' if'n y'want, we c'n wrestle at th'ranch in whutever shape y'feel like!"

Ajax asks carefully, "You speak of her as if she is more than a mere mare."

Shateishael grins with cheerful pride at Ajax, "Ayup! That she is. But I been tol' I c'n get real dull enthusin' 'bout m'hearthfolk..." he chuckles ruefully, "so y'r gonna hafta ask if'n y'wanna know more 'bout her."

Bella grins, chuckling, "She's not simply a mare, Ajax. She's just been wearing the body of one for a long, long time." Both Peony and the centaur look a bit confused at that, looking to Slate for an explanation.

Shateishael beams a bit proudly, nodding at Bella's comment, "She's sumpin' else! Me'n her ran wi'th'Comanche f'r coupla years -- she's th'bes' damn lead mare I ever met! Comes from th'Ghostwind bloodline." Happily he adds, "She's quite th'beauty."

Ajax and Peony glance at one another, the silent conversation seeming to be about who asks the question. Eventually it seems that Peony gets the honor of asking, "So... she's been around since the days of the Native tribes..." Green eyes narrow in puzzlement for a moment, "Is she a mortal horse that's been extended by magic of some sort?"

Shateishael thinks about that, "Um... think so? Technically she's whutcha might call m'familiar," he laughs, "but 'magine she'd cheerfully bite me if'n I called her sumpin' that silly!"

Bella leans in, saying quietly, "She's not a normal horse, no. She's... a spirit creature. Sort of... not quite an angel, but a lot more than a horse. She can Sing and she talks as clearly as any humanoid I've ever met. But her body is that of a horse. A gorgeous... what is it, Slate? Medicine Bonnet?"

Shateishael looks even prouder, if that's possible, "Yep, an' she runs th'Ranch as well -- keeps an eye on us all. An' yeah, she's 'bout 16 hands, an' a red Medicine Bonnet." He adds cheerfully, "Blue ghost eyes, nice red roan over th'rump, white hooves!" He sighs in quiet happiness, absently stroking the hair of the closer woman, "She's been m'best girl f' 'bout half m'life. Couldn't ask f'a better 'r smarter 'r kinder lead mare."

Ajax looks intrigued, "So, she's a sentient? But not humanoid?"

Shateishael chuckles, "Oh, yeah, she's sentient. Don' try any crap wi'her -- she'll boot y'r ass right off!" He smiles slowly, his eyes faraway, "But she's also th'kindest 'n most carin' mare y'could ever hope t'meet." He grins cheerfully at Ajax, "Y'mind y'r manners wi'her, 'n she'll take quite nicely t'ya, 'm sure!"

Ajax grins and holds his hands up at shoulder level in a peace-keeping sort of motion, "I would never disrespect a lady, Slate, no matter what her form."

Shateishael nods, still smiling, "I know. Wouldn'ta invited ya if'n I couldn' see that 'lready, 'jax."

The young centaur grins and tips his head, eyes narrowing as he studies Slate, "So... my grasp on time over here is a little slippery. How long exactly is half your life? If Uncle were to say that, we're talking in terms of millennia."

Shateishael laughs easily, "Oh, stars above, Ajax, I'm jus' li'l thing c'mpared t'y'r uncle! Alla us are. I'm on'y, um..." he pauses, thinking, "Um... whut calendar we usin' now, 'gain...?"

Bella murmurs, "Gregorian, hon. The current one." She smirks a bit and says, "I'm the baby. I'm just a few decades."

Shateishael makes a disgusted noise and waves a hand dismissively, "Well, 'm coupla years ol' at least. Thea keeps better track than I do." He mutters something under his breath about the inaccuracy of solar calendars compared to lunar calendars... then hmfs a bit, folding his arms. "Y'may be th'baby, sweetheart, but'cha know lotsa stuff I don'."

Bella laughs, "You took part in the Crusades, right? Year 1000 or so, yes? Or am I thinking Ian there."

Shateishael nods at Bella's query, "Sorta skipped 'roun' mosta th'Crusades, really, after th'Norse all went christian on me." He grins maliciously, adding, "Learned jus' 'nuff French then that I c'n make a Frenchman beg me almos' in tears t'jus' stop talkin' 'stead a' manglin' th'language any more!"

Peony and Ajax are both looking quite interested in all this, the little leprechaun having moved slightly to stroke along the centaur's flank. Bella kisses Slate's cheek, "I just paid more attention to different things." She rolls her eyes at Slate's comments about his French and laughs, "So, about a millennium -- making Thea about five hundred."

Shateishael nods cheerfully, "Soun's 'bout right! Wuz on quest then 'bouts... wanted t'find th'greatest swordmaker on earth, t'preserve th'learnin'." He adds a bit apologetically, "Wuz... bit bitter then 'bout christianity..."

Peony chuckles a bit, finding herself leaning against Ajax's flank and watching the two angels discuss time. Bella smile and squeezes Slate's hand, "That's because it's gotten all fucked up, sweetie. And it's just gotten worse over the years."

Shateishael smiles slowly down at Bella, "Got t'spend bit a' time 'roun' Islam... lovely religion. Got some a'th'mos' beautiful poetry, where y'cain't tell if'n th'beloved is a woman 'r th' Light..." He pauses a moment, studying Bella's face, his fingers touching her cheek lightly, and murmurs to her,

"You've no idea how hard I've looked for a gift to bring You.
Nothing seemed right.

What's the point of bringing gold to the gold mine, or water to the Ocean.
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.

It's no good giving my heart and my soul because you already have these.
So -- I've brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me."

Bella leans her head against Slate's hand, closing her eyes and listening to the Seraph recite the poetry. She murmurs after a moment, seeming to direct her words to Peony, "And he still thinks he's just this rough-heeled guy, y'know."

Shateishael grins a bit sheepishly, "Well... don' have real good manners in high-class sit'chayshuns, sweetheart. Any place they don' really want th'truth... I get inta trouble." He adds a bit bemusedly, "Not s'good wi'too many table settin's neither. Never saw th'point."

Ajax snorts, sounding extremely amused, "Mmm, you deal with them better than Uncle."

Shateishael looks curious, "Table settings? Karl get inta lotta formal events?"

The younger centaur smiles wryly, "Not so much invited as commanded to appear."

Shateishael looks even more surprised, "Winter Court has formal dinners?!" He thinks about that for a moment... then rumbles in an appalled tone of voice, "Oh, fuck me!"

As the angels chat with the leprechaun and centaur, the two dwarves continue their wrestling match. There's been no clear winner yet, the two stocky Ethereals obviously quite well matched. While people are thus occupied, the curtain over the doorway of Soma's yurt opens and the butterfly king emerges. The lanky fae is dressed again in just a pair of loose black silken pants, wearing a silver torc around his neck and thick silver bracelets. With him he brings Rosenstern, bedecked in ribbons and very little else. Rainbow-hued ribbons are woven in braids in the Mercurian's hair, trailing down far enough to brush the backs of his knees. Around his biceps and thighs are straps holding more trailing ribbons, all bedecked with silver bells that jingle prettily whenever he takes a step. A red silk breechclout protects his modesty, though it tends to blow in any breeze.

On the slender Celestial's feet are a pair of boots with sculpted heels that raise his height by a good five inches, making him have to swing his hips to correct his balance. As they walk, Soma is murmuring, "I am going to have to apologize to your lovers, pet." He's smiling, half-satisfied and half-sheepish, "And you know to let me know if you feel you need more clothing?"

Rosenstern is blushing deeply, though smiling, and he tilts his head to Soma even as he tries to maintain his balance. "Apologize to them for what? And... I-I think I'm fine, if you think it so. I mean, as far as clothing."

Soma's fingers caress the side of Rosie's neck gently, an almost possessive stroking, "For keeping you so very long, petal."

Shateishael catches the slight change in tone of the audience, and glances around to see what's catching their eyes, as he waits for Ajax to answer. He blinks, noticing Soma and Rosie... then smiles slowly, watching with quiet pleasure as they approach. His voice is a quiet rumble, and he nods towards the two, "Bellisima... lookit. Don' th'Rosebud look nice?"

Bella's head turns and from the way her eyebrows go up, she thinks Rosie looks more than merely nice, "Oh, my. He looks good enough to eat." She leans herself back against Slate, grinning broadly as the lovers approach. From behind them Ajax can be heard to whistle -- a low, appreciative sound. It's the sort of thing that escapes someone before they realize they've done it. Shateishael chuckles quietly at Ajax, gently wrapping his arms about Bella. He feels really nice tonight, despite having dealt with Lilith earlier... almost proud of how beautifully happy little Rosie looks!

Rosenstern blushes at the touch, and smiles softly to Soma. "I hope they don't mind...." Then his eyes fall on Bella and Slate, and he brightens even more. He looks to Soma. "May I go to them, my Lord?" he murmurs happily.

Soma kisses Rosie's lips warmly and smiles, "Of course you may, sweetling. I am the one who has borrowed your time. Go to your other loves." He straightens and takes a half-step back, as if to remind himself to let go.

Rosenstern returns the kiss warmly, reaching up to touch Soma's cheek, smiling into the kiss. "There'll be many more times, I'm certain," he whispers warmly. Then he is giving Bella and Slate large, warm hugs in greeting.

Bella laughs and wraps her arms around Rosie, "My, but don't you just glow."

Shateishael's booming laugh echoes Bella's, as he leans to embrace both of them, "Don' he jus'? Y'look gorgeous, sweet blossom!"

Rosenstern blushes shyly, smiling to them. "If I do, it's because of people like you and Soma..."

Shateishael chuckles, dropping a light kiss on top of Rosie's head, "Y'r sweet, li'l Rose. Got some s'prises f'r ya! Bellisima made some lovely rings f'th'three a'us, 'n Karl & Ajax made some really beautiful silverwork as well -- wanna see?" Peony and Ajax both very quietly start to do a slow fade left, murmuring to one another. Soma is moving toward the little clump of Celestials, smiling silently. Shateishael will, while he waits for Rosenstern's answer, look up at Soma and rumble with pleasure, "Thanks f'takin' such good care a' him, Summer Lord."

Soma smiles quietly, eyes glowing, "Mmm, thank you for allowing us this time. I fear time slipped away from me."

Shateishael chuckles in quiet rue, gently stroking Rosie's beribboned hair, "Yeah... he kinda has that effect on a body, don' he..." Rosenstern settles down, kneeling on the ground beside Bella and Slate and rubbing his head against Slate's hand, smiling beatifically.

The summer lord has slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, smiling down at the kneeling Rosie, "He does..." the fae almost purrs, then brings his eyes back up to Slate, "But I still owe you an apology."

Bella is still petting Rosie's ribbon-bedecked hair, but she's watching Soma's face. Shateishael looks a bit puzzled, "Um, 'kay... whuffor?" He's slowly, almost absently twirling a strand of Rosie's hair around one finger as he stands next to the lovely Mercurian, talking to Soma.

Soma laughs quietly, "For keeping him occupied longer than I meant. And for being an inconsiderate host." He looks around the encampment as a whole, "Though I see no one has burned down anything that wasn't meant to be."

Shateishael tilts his head thoughtfully, "How long didja mean? 'N how were ya inconsid'rate?" Rosenstern makes a soft purring sound, still rubbing his head against Slate's hand, though his eyes go between Slate and Soma curiously.

Soma smiles, "I had initially thought just a day."

Shateishael tosses his head back and laughs aloud good-naturedly, then grins and rumbles to Soma, "Man, if'n you'd been able t'come back wi'th'Rosebud in jus' a single day, I'da been dayum impressed wi'y'r will power!" He grins, reaching out a hand to rest it lightly on Soma's shoulder, "S'okay, Somhairle, really. I'da come knockin' if'n y'r yurt wuz th'las' one lef' standin', 'cause ev'rybody'd left already... but short a' that, wanted Rosie 'n you t'have a real nice time." He smiles down at Rosenstern, his gaze getting a little smoky as he adds, "'N if bringin' th'li'l flow'r out like this's bein' inconsid'rate, feel free t'do it 'gain?"

Soma laughs knowingly and reaches down to touch Rosie's cheek, "Oh, you're very welcome there. He looked so nice the last time he was in ribbons."

Shateishael smiles slowly down at Rosenstern for a moment... then crouches on his heels next to the little Mercurian. He has to untangle his fingers from Rosie's hair (having, for a moment, a sort of 'how did that happen?' look on his face as he does so), in order to slip a braided silver ring set with three stones -- a garnet, an aventurine, and a topaz set into a triangle with the topaz topmost -- off his right ring finger. He hands it to Rosie, rumbling happily, "Lookit, lovely. This is th'one Bellisima made f'me, 'n she's got one f'each a' us." He looks up at Bella and grins, "You got th'Rosebud's wi'ya, sweetheart?"

Rosenstern blushes all the more, clear down to his chest, before Slate hands him the ring. He gingerly takes it in both hands, blinking. "Oh, my. It's beautiful! Bella made it for you?"

Bella shakes her head and smiles, "It's back at the tent. But his other present is here." The Bright laughs, "I had quite a lot of help, actually."

Shateishael chuckles lazily, one finger gently trailing along Rosenstern's cheek and jaw line, tracing along his throat and over the collar, then lightly down his chest, following the blush. He sounds a bit abstracted, "Mmm? Oh, yeah... like I said, one f'each a'us t'wear, as a symbol f'th'Winter Court that we're bonded. An'... we jus'got 'nother beautiful set a' gifts from Ajax 'n Karl." He reaches back without looking away from the blushing Rosenstern, pulling the chest forward and lifting the top so Rosie can see in, "Y'like?"

The wooden box is beautifully carved and bound in brass, lined with velvet and containing several objects. There's a beautiful double-bladed sword, the hilt inlaid with ivy-carved black stone, lying across a leather scabbard tooled with matching silver vine work. There's space for the tiara Bella's wearing as well... but what may really draw Rosie's eye is the pair of silver wrist-cuffs, rimmed with intricate engraving and inlaid with stones. The design on the cuffs is fairly simple; the elegance and beauty of it is in the way the beaten silver swoops and dips, rather than on the number of engraved swirls and elaborations. The gems are amethysts, garnets, and aventurine. It's clear all three items -- sword, cuffs, and tiara -- are of a matching set.

Ajax stops his sidling away once he realizes that they're giving Rosie his part of the gift from the large wooden casket. He trots closer again, smiling widely and waiting to see the Mercurian's reaction. Rosenstern takes in a breath, reaching to touch the cuffs. "Oh, my... they're beautiful!" He looks up to Ajax, beaming. "Thank you so much!"

Shateishael grins, well pleased at Rosie's pleasure, and rumbles, "Y'wanna try 'em on, pretty flow'r?" He adds, "Ajax designed th'tiara 'n cuffs, 'n th'scrollwork on th'scabbard."

The young centaur completely fails to look modest about his work, "You're welcome, Flowerkin. Can't seem to keep my hands out of the whitesmithing." He inclines his head toward the chest, "Try them on. If they don't fit, Uncle and I can try to resize them."

Shateishael will gently draw Rosenstern to him, placing the kneeling Mercurian between his feet and with Rosie's back to him. He contentedly wraps his arms around the little angel as he slowly fastens the shining cuffs, one at a time, about Rosie's wrists. He also checks to be sure they fit comfortably and don't chafe at the edges at all; he's not surprised, considering the quality of the work, to discover they're snug, smooth, and don't bind when Rosie rolls his wrists. He grins down at the slight angel leaning back a bit against him, "There y'go, sweet petal. Y'like?"

Rosenstern blushes, holding his arms out as Slate sets the cuffs on his wrists, smiling softly. "I like very much, thank you!

Bella smiles down at Rosie, examining the broad cuffs, "They look nice. We'll have to build you an outfit around those... not that they look bad with the ribbons."

Rosenstern looks to Bella, looking a little surprised, then blushes, smiling, "Whatever you both feel is appropriate..."

Ajax grins, chest puffing with pride that his design was executed as well as any craftsman can hope, "Wear them in good health."

Shateishael sighs in quiet happiness, tilting his head down to lightly brush his lips against the top of Rosie's head, much like Thea often does... then he straightens, standing up with Rosie still kneeling between his feet, and grins at Bella, "Oh, yeah, I'd love t'see that!" One hand is still absently, lightly stroking Rosie's beribboned hair as he rumbles sincerely to Ajax, "These're truly gorgeous, 'jax. Thanks t'you'n y'r uncle both, from th'bottom a'our hearts."

Ajax inclines his head, still smiling, "I'll thank him for you. I think he's going to save the rest of it until the last day of the festival."

Shateishael looks a bit surprised, "There's more?!"

Soma smiles quietly, watching the angels with his people, happiness and relief showing on his face. Ajax laughs quietly, "Aye. He's not gregarious, but he shows his friendship best he can."

Rosenstern blinks in surprise. Shateishael chuckles quietly, "He's a good man, 'n that shows jus' fine, 'jax." He grins half teasingly, "An' a damn fine blacksmith -- cain't go wrong wi'that!"

Soma leans over the chest and his eyes get a little wide as he sees Slate's part of the gift. He crouches and reaches toward it, then stops himself, glancing up at the Seraph, "May I touch the blade, Slate?"

Shateishael nods to Soma, "Cert'nly, Summer Lord. Moment..." He fishes in a pocket, then hands Soma a handkerchief so the butterfly fae can handle the sword without actually getting finger oils on the blade.

Soma accepts the handkerchief with a smile and then picks up the blade, standing as he examines it carefully, "It's a beautiful threat, and one my brother-self won't be able to ban from his court."

Shateishael goes back to absently stroking his fingers along Rosie's hair as he watches. He tilts his head curiously at Soma's words, "Beautiful 'threat'? 'Xplain, please?" He adds in slow curiosity, "Ban... he likely t'see me as col' steel too, in my Stone form?"

Soma places the sword back into the chest, returning Slate's handkerchief, "He may well, Slate, and he could rightly insist you not bring a steel weapon into his court, but that... he cannot insist you come in unarmed. He holds too hard to the old protocols."

Shateishael frowns consideringly as he tucks the handkerchief away again, "I... dunno how t'not carry m'katana, Soma. How stric'ly he likely t'interpret bringin' steel?" Rosenstern watches raptly, leaning a little bit against Slate as he listens to the interplay.

Soma smiles lopsidedly, "Bearing the weapon into his presence would be the insult. You needn't cut yourself off from whatever magic you use to summon the blade." One of Soma's hands reaches toward Rosie's hair without the sidhe even seeming to notice it.

Shateishael nods slowly, studying the blade in the open box, "'Kay." He looks up at Soma and rumbles quietly, "'M sorry it's creepy t'ya, Summer Lord. 'Bout all I know t'do is t'promise ya I'll never use it here when I c'n possibly use sumpin' else." Slate's large hand rests lightly against Rosie's cheek as the slight angel leans his head against Slate's thigh, the fingers gently stroking ribbon and soft hair back behind Rosie's ear. Then Slate grins a touch mischievously, "Not that I'd 'nnounce it t'Bran, but I'm ac'sh'ly better at martial arts than wi'a sword anyways." He glances at the wrestling ring and adds with a bit of surprised pleasure, "Even had one a'th'Jotunsons tell me he wanted t'practice wi'me some!"

Ajax's voice is filled with laughter, "Ahh, but a visible reminder of who you are is always good."

Shateishael tilts his head curiously at Ajax, "How y'mean, 'jax?" Soma catches himself before he actually touches Rosie, simply because the gesture would be easily misinterpreted from most angles with Rosenstern kneeling as he is.

Ajax smiles, "Well, a sword is a better visual badge than, say a black belt. It's more universally recognized as a symbol of martial power."

Shateishael considers, then nods, "'Kay, that makes sense." A moment later he adds thoughtfully, "Y'know, y'never said, 'jax -- there lotta formal dinners at Winter Court?"

Ajax shrugs, "I wouldn't say a lot, but there are one or two. And there is the opening banquet on Midwinter night."

Shateishael considers that carefully... then sighs and glances half-amusedly, half in dismay at Bella, "Lemme guess... gonna need t'dress up?"

Rosenstern smiles up to Slate. "You say that like it's a bad thing...."

Shateishael hms thoughtfully, looking down at Rosenstern, then at Bella, and rumbles slowly, "'M thinkin' I wanna do 'least few fightin' practices 'roun' y'both, too, b'fore Winter Court. Rosie already knows not t'flinch if'n I'm moving fast 'roun' him, but I wanna be sure y'both're comfortable wi'that." He grins a bit sheepishly at Rosenstern, "Well, uh, y'know y'all look great dressed up... but I always feel bit a'th'fool gussied up, y'know? Like m'clo's strong 'n simple. Dunno 'bout th'frilly bits, y'know?"

The martial contests go on well into the evening, with even Soma getting into the act at one point and sparring with another sidhe using long, tapered blades. The forms they use are very formal -- fencing rather than the sort of fighting one might find on a battlefield. There isn't so much an official banquet as people seem to be sharing a lot of food. Bacchus explains at some point during this that a lot of the fae are starting to share out food they can see will be excess since the festival will be ending in just a few days. When the glamour comes into being over the encampment, there is very little change to anyone, Soma simply holding the static image on the dome.

Shateishael watches the martial contests with great interest, and if asked will gladly participate where he can. He's quite delighted with how happy and beautiful Rosenstern looks, and just before the angels leave for their own encampment he quietly thanks Soma again for taking such good care of the little Mercurian. Soma tells Slate he is more than welcome and gives Rosenstern one last kiss before letting the three Celestials leave.

Late into the morning, the angels head back to their tent and Rosie finds that the clothing Soma gifted him with inside the fae camp doesn't change when he leaves. The Mercurian is clad in ribbons all the way back to the tent, where Bella insists he leave them on for another hour or so. Once back at their own encampment Slate grins and cheerfully helps Bella find interesting uses for the lovely ribbons on the lovely little Mercurian... and when they are all three blissfully sated he cuddles both his beloveds close, marveling internally at how blessed he is.

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Last modified: 2006-Dec-07 15:15:59

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