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Reality Fault

Realms: Burning Man Logs

Day Six.

Slate's eyes flick open -- abruptly, he's awake and alert. His senses are already calmly assessing his environment, searching for what woke him; as a Seraph it doesn't occur to him to attempt to hide his wakefulness. A fraction of a second later he's studying the cause of the slight noise, deciding it's not a threat. It takes another moment for his brain to register that 'it' is a person, and one he knows. He smiles at Ayra, who is peeking curiously around a tree at the little pile of sleeping angels, and her trepidation at his rather grim initial scrutiny evaporates. She grins, waves, then turns and heads off.

Slate is still smiling faintly as he looks down at his still-sleeping companions, and his face warms. They're all three still tangled up from their lovemaking -- they must've dropped off immediately after their last burst of passion. Slate carefully tries to loosen his fingers from where they're tightly tangled in Rosie's soft hair, and the unconscious Mercurian whimpers softly as his mouth moves reflexively. He's still pressed close against the big Seraph, and Slate draws in a sharp breath at the sudden, pleasant sensation, then gently strokes Rosie's tangled hair, murmuring quiet reassurance to the slight angel. He smiles with lazy contentment, noticing Bella also has one hand still firmly closed around Rosie, stretching the sweet little submissive open between the two of them. Mmm... Rosie had been simply amazing -- so willing and obedient as... Slate's thoughts pause. Actually, Rosie hadn't been amazing just once, now Slate thinks about it.

The big Seraph frowns, trying to remember more clearly through the haze of remembered appetite and passion. There was the first time he and Bella had shared Rosie, yes... but now Slate's thinking about it, he remembers more... a lot more, in fact. Slate blinks, running through his memories, suddenly a bit startled. How long have the three angels been here in this delightful Garden? How many times had Bella and Slate voraciously shared little Rosie between them? Slate doesn't remember the passage of time at all, but he's not sure the sun rises and sets normally here as it is. Further, the number of times he remembers using Rosie, just off the top of his head, makes him think a significant amount of time must have passed -- not just an hour or three.

Slate gives Rosie a slightly worried visual assessment as he thinks, still reassuringly petting the lovely little Mercurian. He knows Rosie enjoys being used for pleasure, sometimes even a bit roughly -- but Slate doesn't want his beautiful partner to be actually harmed by his sweetly submissive tendencies. Rosie's body looks fine to Slate's gaze, though -- there are roses wound thickly through his hair, and a few leafy tendrils from the bower are drooping down to trail lightly across his soft skin. Slate finds himself wondering with dreamy admiration if Bella'd like to try being on top again this time, before he catches himself with a grin -- gotta give the poor Rosebud at least some time to recover! Even as he thinks this, Rosie's eyelashes flutter, then open... and a moment later Slate is gifted with a beautiful smile. The big Seraph smiles back in spite of himself... then chuckles as he notices Rosie's eyes. It would appear the slight Mercurian is still deeply into subspace -- his gaze is dreamily adoring, and his pupils are hugely dilated.

Bella raises her head, also smiling in lazy pleasure, her fingernails tracing along Rosie's still-flushed, sensitive skin. Rosie whimpers softly again as she moves, laying his head on Slate's thigh in exquisite surrender. Slate's eyes widen as he studies Bella, his body already responding to her languidly erotic teasing of Rosie. He's a bit surprised at how strongly his companions are reacting -- he remembers Bella being almost ravenous in her sensual demands on Rosie and he, and he doesn't recall Rosie ever falling quite so quickly and easily into subspace... nor, now he thinks about it, staying there so long! Plus, why's he relatively alert and awake? He ponders that for a moment as Bella licks her lips and shifts Rosie slightly for her enjoyment -- then Slate makes a small sound of understanding, as he finally gets it.

Slate puts out a hand, rumbling quietly, "Bellisima... sweetheart, give 'im 'moment? 'S th'Garden... it's th'archetype, 'm thinkin', 'n we're respondin' t'it accordin' t'th'archetypes we've accepted -- Flowerkin, Seductress, 'n Warrior." He sits up, drawing Rosie's almost limp form into his lap, and gently takes the little angel's chin in one large, slightly scarred hand. He turns Rosie's face towards Bella, and the slight Mercurian sighs softly, still smiling in dreamy ecstasy at Slate, utterly unresisting. "Look, lover -- see his eyes? He's still in subspace so deep, not sure when he's comin' out!" Bella tilts her head, slowly licking her lips as she studies Rosie's blissful expression, and Slate draws in his breath sharply, strongly affected by her raw, casual sensuality. He grins ruefully, adding, "'N y'r makin' it hard t'think, sweetheart."

Bella chuckles, crawling forward on all fours like a big, hungry cat to where Slate sits with the little Mercurian in his lap, lazily and deliberately kissing the big Seraph... that's all Slate remembers clearly for a while...

It's some time later Slate shakes his head to clear it, then gets another rueful grin as he realizes they've succumbed once again to the rapture of the moment. He considers a moment... then shakes his head again. Nice though this is, they can't stay here -- they'll use poor Rosie up or something, if nothing else. He reaches to lay his shirt gently over Bella's voluptuously relaxed, sleeping form, then rises carefully and scoops up the little Mercurian up in his arms. A moment later he's standing in the stream, Rosie kneeling between his feet and waist deep in the water, one arm curled about Slate's thigh. The big Seraph is careful to always keep contact with Rosie, as he's not sure just what being alone would do to Rosie when the little Mercurian's this deeply into subspace.

As a consequence, Slate takes his time cleaning up both himself and the dreamy Mercurian, running his wet hands all over them both, holding up water in his palms for Rosie to thirstily drink, and occasionally struggling with strong urges to use the lovely Flowerkin just this once more... fortunately, Slate finds it easier to control himself when he doesn't have to deal with the Seductress as well. While the Flowerkin's lovely submissive generosity seems to be poured out boundlessly to his lovers, the Warrior has enough self-awareness to simply pin the slight angel until the urge is subsumed again. Rosie doesn't resist at all, seeming to enjoy Slate's touch regardless of how or what it might be, rubbing his head against Slate and purring softly.

It's about halfway through cleaning up Rosie that Bella slides into the water and starts helping... which slows down the process markedly, but leaves all three of them sated and practically purring with contentment. Slate's concentrating this time, though, and doesn't let them fall asleep together in the water. Instead, once they're all on the bank, damp and relatively clean, he just sits a moment to catch his breath, Rosie sprawled blissfully across his lap and Bella curled up, purring and gently petting the rapturously exhausted Mercurian. Rambling roses trail across them, and the sweet scent of flowers is rich and exotic... and at some point Slate blinks, then grins at Bella, "Hey, lover... whut wuz that Japanese thing you tol' me 'bout, where y'tie someone up wi'ropes? Y'think we c'd do that wi'th'Rosebud'n some a'these long rose branches?"

Several hours later the three angels are making their slow way back towards the Willow Lady's home. Slate's in his leather pants and boots, easily carrying Rosie in one arm -- the other is about Bella, who somehow manages to tease Rosie with delicate fingertip touches as she's walking, and still occasionally rub herself with sensual pleasure against her Seraph lover. Slate looks distractedly happy, while Rosie appears utterly possessed by a blissful sort of agony. Bella's lascivious teasing is causing his breath to come quick and shallow, while the lovely blossoming karada of rose branches twines snugly about his body, causing him to writhe with helpless pleasure in Slate's careful hold. It's when Slate finally spots Zareh that he calls out, "Ma'am, 'ppreciate y'lettin' us visit y'r Garden, but 'm thinkin' might not be safe t'stay. It's archetypal, right? How d'we get th' li'l Rosebud outta th'Flow'rkin archetype, please?"

Zareh laughs softly. Ayra, who is kneeling between rows of violets with her mother, looks slightly sheepish. It's the older dryad who actually speaks, however, "You may have to take him home, Slate. Though the bower is one of the stronger concentrations of that... effect."

Rosenstern is purring softly in Slate's arms, eyes bright and alert and at the same time almost worshipful and obedient, only squirming a bit but still completely blissful. He reaches up to gently run fingertips along Slate's chin. He doesn't even seem to register any embarrassment at seeing Zareh and Ayra. Bella likewise finds it's difficult to concentrate on anything but the two beautiful men. To not touch them takes a true effort of will, though the sheer need to have them inside her again, to lose herself in their flesh, is slackening slightly.

Shateishael hms thoughtfully, looking down at Rosie, then at Bella. They're both incredibly alive feeling to him just now... he's actually torn for a moment. Then he shakes his head once, sharply, clearing his thoughts and looking back up at the Willow Lady. Amusedly he rumbles, "Darned glad y'all din' have anythin' threatenin' here, 's all I c'n say, ma'am. Not really sure whut I'd be like in that sitchashun." He grins even more amusedly at Ayra, "Did y'all figger this'd happen?"

Ayra looks sheepish again, admitting, "Well, we know the archetypal nature of the garden. And we know about the bower, but I didn't actually realize you'd be down there for days."

Rosenstern seems to finally be registering the dryads at last, or at least a little more normally than usual now that he's out if the bower, and starts to squirm a little, placing his hands to cover himself. Shateishael nods slowly, pacing over to sit cross-legged at the edge of the little garden, settling Rosie gently next to him and making sure Bella's comfortable too. Then he rumbles, "'Kay, gimme alla it please. How long were we?" He looks a bit surprised as Rosenstern starts squirming a bit... then a touch relieved. Lovely though the slight Mercurian is when he's softly pliant in Slate's capable hands... the big Seraph was starting to worry for the little angel!

Zareh smiles warmly, shrugging, leaving Ayra to answer, "I have a little better idea what the time scale is like. It would seem like three days if you were aware of time passage for it. On the other side, it's been not quite 36 hours. There's not an easy or exact conversion."

Rosenstern curls his legs under him, still looking quite blissful and using the new position as an excuse to curl up against Slate's side. Perfect -- modesty and snuggling with Slate! Shateishael reflexively cuddles the little Mercurian close with one arm, considering Ayra's words. Finally he nods thoughtfully, "'Kay. There likely t'be any after'ffects'r anythin' we should be 'xpectin' when we go back t'Burnin' Man?"

The dryads exchange another look, the elder answering this time, "You may notice a closer bond. Perhaps a more intent awareness of one another. I don't believe you would have quite the same... exchange... as Ethereals. But when we... looked in on you... you seemed to be aware of nothing but one another. That either requires an intertwining or is the result of one..." Ayra hurries to add, "We didn't watch or anything, just looked in once or twice to make sure you were safe and... happy." She smiles, giggling softly, "We had decided to come drag you out after another local day." Zareh nods, "So you could return to the other side before the festival ends. It is apparently to allow time to pass here and forget that time is actually passing there. It has to do with the lack of true diurnal cycles."

Shateishael nods thoughtfully to Zareh, considering... then grins lazily at Ayra, "S'okay, ma'am." He glances at Rosie and Bella, hoping they're not going to mind whatever happens. For himself, he's happy to 'intertwine' all they'd like... but he hopes neither of them feel it was forced on them or anything. Rosenstern blushes deeply at the idea of Ayra peeking in on them. His blush almost matches the roses of the karada he is in. Bella is either not minding or not quite out of that primal, essential space. She's been lazily brushing kisses over Slate's shoulder and Rosie's temple, carefully keeping her hands to herself as if she knows she's not quite safe to touch them more fully.

Shateishael grins, gently brushing a large hand along Rosie's cheek -- and also shading the embarrassed Mercurian's face from observation for a slow moment. To Zareh he rumbles, "C'n y'tell me whut intertwinin' means please, ma'am?" He shivers slightly as Bella's lips brush across his bare skin -- then firmly reminds himself to focus! Rosenstern half-closes his eyes, and his submissiveness shows in that he lifts up his head a little, the easier for them both to reach him, since they seem to desire that.

The older dryad smiles and touches the corner of one of her eyes, "Obe... Bacchus and I are intertwined. It is mutual love. Mutual joining. It's a great gift."

Shateishael blinks slowly at Zareh, suddenly realizing two almost frightening things... did she just almost say Bacchus' True Name? Sounded like Oberon to Slate... and he's very sure he doesn't want to know that! Secondly, he thinks he gets what she means about intertwining -- that moment where a part of the two Ethereal lovers is interchanged. He's silent, pondering... if it's a greatest weakness for them, then surely it must also be an equally great joy? That would seem only just to him... although he quietly admits to himself the universe is not really just -- he just wishes it was.

Ayra hurries to reassure the angels, "Love doesn't seem to work quite the same for you... I know you all love one another. It's obvious. You may simply feel closer. A stronger bond... or you may find a very small streak of hair has changed color to match your lovers'...." She trails off, her eyes having narrowed onto the hair that brushes the side of Slate's neck.

Shateishael shakes his head, pushing those disturbing thoughts away for later, then looks inquiringly at Ayra, "Sumpin'?"

Ayra wordlessly stands and disappears for a moment, returning with her mother's scrying bowl. She says quietly, "It works well for scrying because it makes a good mirror..." She sets it down delicately and fills it with water, finally motioning for the angels to look into it. Shateishael leans to do so, curious. Bella leans with Slate -- at first because that's the way his body is moving, but then the awareness of what Ayra was saying filters in, and she peers into the slightly-rippled reflection. Rosenstern blinks a little, still not quite coming out of his submissive reverie. He looks up at Slate's neck curiously, reaching up to gently touch him there before being attracted by the bowl and leaning over with Slate.

As the three lean over the bowl, Ayra leans close and touches the hair just behind Rosie's left ear, as if he's the one of the three angels she feels safest touching, "Just here... look closely." On closer inspection, there's something very curious. Locks of differently colored hair seem to have come into existence for each of them. For Slate, a mix of Bella's auburn and Rosie's chestnut. Bella and Rosie both have a streak of blond there as well as having traded deep red and dark brown. It would be easy to miss, falling as it does on the underside of the hair for each of them, but it jumps out to creatures that created their bodies of their own thoughts. This wasn't something they thought into existence.

Shateishael blinks in surprise at the reflection for a long heartbeat... then sits back, gently pulling Rosie into his lap. One strong arm cradles the little Mercurian, while the other hand brushes Rosie's hair aside, then carefully tilts his head so Slate can see better. Rosenstern smiles quietly at the reflection, blushing warmly and blissfully at the sight. He lets his chin be lifted up by Slate's hand, purring softly as he also curls his fingertips around Slate's own multicolored strands. Bella catches her breath, reaching up to pull the streaked hair forward, eyes wide. The edge seems to have smoothed on her aggressively sensual behavior as she mutters, "Holy jumped-up Christ on a steam-powered chariot-driven crutch..."

Shateishael smiles slowly, his strong fingers lightly curling the multi-colored strand of Rosie's hair about them... then he looks up at Bella and grins, nodding once, "'Kay, that wuz more creative than usual, sweetheart!"

Bella laughs sheepishly, "This is a little stranger than usual, too."

Ayra literally scuffs one of her feet, looking at her toes, "We didn't realize it would work that way with you." Zareh nods solemnly, adding, "If we had suspected, we would have prepared you beforehand."

Shateishael chuckles, reaching out his free hand to carefully cradle the back of Bella's head. If she lets him, he'll draw her close, resting his forehead against hers. He rumbles calmly and quietly to Bella, "Y'already got m'heart, Bright Lady. This don' change how I feel 'bout you 'n th'Rosebud, 'n 'm doubtin' his feelin's have changed either." He raises his head to kiss her gently on the forehead, then smiles at her reassuringly.

Zareh speaks quietly again, "It... should not have happened if there was true doubt."

Bella takes a deep breath, nodding, but whether to let Slate know she's OK or to reassure Zareh that they don't blame the dryads is unclear. She looks, not unpleasantly, a little dazed. Shateishael nods to Zareh, "S'okay, ma'am. We're jus' bit startled -- not sumpin' we usually see in ourselves." He carefully doesn't shift his position as he speaks, keeping his arm about Rosie and still gently cradling the back of Bella's head. He turns back to his lovers, rumbling quietly, "Y'all okay? 'f there's any problems y'all 're worried 'bout, jus' tell me later, 'n we'll face it t'gether. 'Kay?"

The Bright simply nods, as if she doesn't quite trust her voice. Rosenstern murmurs softly, "Mmm-hmm... I'm fine, love. I... I rather like it...."

Shateishael smiles, trailing gentle kisses down Bella's forehead, over across her cheek, tilting his head to whisper softly and reassuringly to her, "I love you just as you are, my heart -- always have."

Bella smiles and nods again, gently letting her fingers trail over Slate's wrist and Rosie's hip, murmuring, "I love you both. I'm OK. I promise."

Shateishael nods slowly; he can tell Bella is scared but doing okay for now. He kisses her lightly on the cheek again, then leans back enough to grin teasingly at Rosenstern, "Me too, ac'sh'ly. Kinda sharp lookin', don'tcha think?"

Rosenstern blushes, shivering with Bella's touch, and says quietly, "And I love you both, dearly and deeply." He almost goes on to say, 'And will obey you both fully,' but that seems to be more than needed. He smiles to Slate, mming, "Oh, yes! Very attractive!"

Shateishael smiles quietly at Rosenstern, hugging him close for a moment... then looks up at Zareh and Ayra, "'Kay, thanks f'lettin' us know here, 'n s'okay, really. We know unexpected stuff happens sometimes."

Both women seem to breath a sigh of relief, Zareh brightening slightly, "Would you like to visit some of the less... immersive parts of the Garden before you go back?"

Shateishael smiles slowly, "Ma'am, 'less m'lovers tell me otherwise, think we'd be honored?"

Rosenstern purrs softly and nods his head. "I would like to as well, please!"

Bella's smile smoothes into unadulterated pleasure, "I know I'd love to... and I'd like to know the name of those little waterfalls of purple flowers leading down to the bower..."

Zareh nods, eyes crinkling warmly, "Creeping phlox. The humans consider them a very old-fashioned flower. But I love the frothy waves of them."

Shateishael grins, relaxing internally as well, as Bella's demeanor relaxes. He glances at Rosie thoughtfully... then grins at the two dryads, "'M bettin' y'd both make th'li'l Rosebud real happy if'n he c'd see some 'a y'r Hera's Tears growin' naturally, too?"

Zareh straightens as if someone just complimented a child of hers, "Of course! I am, I admit, rather proud of them. I think the great lady would have approved of them. The Rainbow was hers, after all."

Shateishael looks curious, "Who's th'Great Lady, ma'am?"

Zareh smiles, "Hera herself." Shateishael blinks slowly, just thinking about that one. Rosenstern also blinks again, looking startled at mention of Hera. The older dryad continues, "Her presence is missed, and I sometimes forget to refer to her in the past tense." Both tree-sprites are rising, carefully brushing the earth of the violet beds from their bark, "They seem to grow best where the sun can get to them, but not overwhelm them -- the edges of meadows and orchards."

Shateishael hesitates, then rumbles quietly, "I... wuz 'riginally taught th'sun wuz female -- Glory a' Elves, they useta call her." He looks out over the Garden, seeing someplace else in his mind's eye, and adds, "I think a' th'Light as female still..." He sighs quietly, drawing his thoughts together here again. A moment later he rises with easy grace, Rosie still carefully cradled in one arm and the other hand offered to Bella.

Ayra nods, murmuring, "For our people, the moon is female: cool, sweet comfort. The sun is male: blazing strength that can harm if not checked. But both are to be respected."

As the dryads and the Celestials move off toward a dimly seen orchard of what seem to be apple trees, Bella curls her fingers into the back of Slate's waistband, hoping it will be a way to keep contact without succumbing to the temptation to draw her two loves off into the shade for another session of deliciously decadent sex. For the most part it seems to work. All three angels can still feel those archetypes riding their skins, seeming somehow more easily perceived, more solid than they were before those wonderfully lost days under the roses and by the stream.

Shateishael slides his free arm about Bella's shoulders, as reluctant to lose contact with his beautiful lovers as they appear to be as well. Zareh matches her pace as best she can to the angels, who may feel a languor in their limbs that precludes the idea of walking quickly, "If you would like some of the Tears to take with you, you may. Ayra says that Rosenstern seems taken with them."

Rosenstern blushes, bit by bit becoming more alert and aware, though no less adoring of his lovers. He nods a little, blushing and smiling. "They're very beautiful, yes. Thank you, Lady."

Shateishael smiles affectionately down at the still-quite-blissful looking little Mercurian in his arms and rumbles, "Thank you kindly, ma'am." Then he looks up at the Willow Lady and curiously adds, "How'd y'come up with 'em, ma'am? They a new species 'r sumpin'? 'N are there any animals hereabouts too?"

Zareh nods and smiles, "They are a creation of my own. Sometimes things can come into being here that could not or would not on earth." Ayra answers Slate's other question, "There are animals here, but they are very, very shy, Warrior."

Rosenstern asks, "Will they survive in the Corporeal?"

Shateishael nods to both dryads, then looks thoughtful at Rosenstern's query. "Are th'ones at Burnin' Man doin' 'kay?"

Zareh nods, smiling warmly at the Flowerkin, "Yes, child, they will. We were not sure until my daughter took them to the Court."

Rosenstern brightens greatly at that. Shateishael rumbles curiously to Ayra, "Whut kindsa animals d'y'all have here?" He wonders if here is where the unicorns and the Pegasus live, when they're not on Earth.

Zareh smiles, "Small ones mostly, though some of the larger sentients visit from time to time."

Shateishael switches his gaze politely back to Zareh, looking a bit surprised, "There are teneensy li'l fae critters? 'R they really animals, 'n not smart?"

Ayra laughs softly, "No, it's like there are dream images of squirrels and badgers. And sometimes the Gryphon visits."

Rosenstern blinks again. "...sentients?"

Ayra nods, "The Gryphon is sentient, but hasn't the power of glamour."

Zareh nods, smiling, "The Kirin as well."

Shateishael's eyes widen slightly in fascination, "Squirrels made a' dream? Whutzat like?" He blinks at Ayra's comment, then rumbles curiously, "But if'n they cain't... oh! Gotcha -- they hang out at Karl's place when they're on earth?"

Zareh nodded, smiling, "Karl is a very kind soul. But he isn't very polite." The grove, which had seemed far off when the walk began, is already coming into view ahead on the path, and a spill of rainbow flowers can be seen at the edge.

Shateishael looks a bit puzzled, then trepidatious. He's keenly aware of his own social shortcomings, after all. "Er... 'zat... a problem f'folks here?"

Zareh laughs and shakes her head, "Gracious, no. If it were, I would never let him set foot here!"

Shateishael looks quite relieved -- then a bit embarrassed, "Um... gotcha, ma'am." He thinks a moment, then rumbles puzzledly, "So... oh, does he piss off th'gryphon 'n kirin, 'r sumpin'? Er, 'scuse m'language, ma'am..."

Ayra laughs softly, "Not so much piss off as shock, perhaps. The Kirin is a bit delicate in nature."

Rosenstern blinks a little, "Er... annoy them how?"

As they spoke, the angels and the dryads find themselves at the edge of the orchard. Ayra reaches up to caress the bark of one of the trees as she answers, "Karl with the Kirin is like a dockworker with a queen."

Shateishael grins, suddenly understanding -- at least for the kirin. He rumbles a bit wistfully, "Wisht we c'd 'xtend 'n invitashun t'her t'come see th'ranch." He considers a moment, then adds, "Well... guess we can, 'n we give it some time." He smiles down at Rosenstern, rumbling, "Y'want down now, sweetheart, so's you c'n touch th'flow'rs 'n such?"

Rosenstern smiles and nods, "Yes, please, Slate?"

Shateishael nods and settles Rosie easily and carefully on his feet. Rosenstern, once he settles onto his feet -- he only wavers a little bit -- steps forward to kneel by the beautiful flowers. Slate loops his arms loosely about Bella, nuzzling her and grinning affectionately as he watches Rosie almost bounce to the nearest beautiful flowers. Bella leans back against Slate, wrapping his arms around her like a warm, comfortable coat. Shateishael sighs contentedly, happily hugging just as much as Bella would like. He adds a moment later to the dryads, "Din' know gryphons were... delicate?"

Zareh kneels with Rosie and pulls a waxed paper envelope from a pouch hanging at her hip, handing the Mercurian a small trowel, "To take some home."

Rosenstern blinks, then smiles widely, bowing from where he's kneeling, to Zareh. "Thank you, Lady! I promise, I will take the very best care of them that I can! Is there anything I should know so that they might thrive?"

Ayra laughs softly, "The gryphon isn't delicate. The Kirin is."

Shateishael says, "Oh. Howcum Karl 'nnoys him 'r her, then?" He pauses, then asks with happy interest, "'N whut kinda gryphon is, uh... he? Is there on'y one? They li'l biddy things, like th'fossils folks've foun' inna Inner Mongolian cliffs? 'N are they really guardians a' golden treasures like th'legen's all said?"

Zareh shakes her head, "The kirin is not small, no." She smiles.

Shateishael says, "Er, wuz ac'sh'ly wond'rin' 'bout th'gryphon? Dunno much 'bout kirins, but useta read lots 'bout th'Greek critters, 'n wisht I'd been 'roun' t'meet 'm." He wonders a bit bemusedly why the dryads aren't answering any of his questions -- then looks a bit rueful, "Um... 'n if'n y'all don' wanna talk 'bout 'em, tha's fine too -- jus' lemme know 'n I'll hush up, 'kay?" Rosenstern listens curiously as he gently starts to transplant some of the smaller Hera's Tears.

Ayra laughs, "Oh dear, no. The gryphon is the size of a Clydesdale."

Zareh blinks, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to sound avoidant."

Shateishael looks boggled at Ayra's comment, "How big?! Dear Lady!"

Ayra grins, "A Clydesdale. Big, big horse... huge. Like a moose, almost."

Rosenstern gives a start. "How in the world could they hide?"

Ayra smiles, "They can't, really. Which is why they stay at the Farm."

Shateishael laughs delightedly at Ayra, "Oh, man, this I gotta see!" then turns and, still grinning, rumbles politely to Zareh, "Ma'am, ain't th'mos' uh... socially graceful person I know, so I try t'not be rude. Din' mean you wuz 'voidin' me -- jus' wan'ed t'be sure I wuzn't makin' y'all uncomfy, y'know?"

Zareh covers her mouth with her hand, smiling, "I'm trying to think of a polite way to explain Karl's effect on the Gryphon." Shateishael listens in fascination, eyes bright with interest. The older dryad thinks for a moment, "The Gryphon is not so much shocked or offended as not used to taking orders from anyone. Karl runs, as they say, a tight ship."

Shateishael thinks about that, then nods slowly, "Guess I c'n unnerstan' that. From whut I've heard, th'Farm's s'pposeta be hidden 'n safe, so it'd make sense Karl wuz doin' that." He pauses, considering a moment, then grins amusedly, "Think I'm gonna be kinda innerested in seein' how he 'n Thea hit it off -- she don' take kindly t'folks intrudin' on whut she c'nsiders her p'rogatives!"

Rosenstern murmurs as he works, "I don't see Thea getting along any better with Karl than the gryphons do!"

Shateishael chuckles at Rosenstern, rumbling, "Long as he r'spects her territory 'n her d'cisions, 'm thinkin' it'll be fine. He tries actin' like a stallion w'her, though, 'n he's likely t'getta good swift kick inna ribs!"

Zareh laughs softly, "Oh, he's very respectful of other people's... territories. He told me once that he can't expect people to respect his home if he doesn't respect theirs."

Bella nestles back against Slate, eyes twinkling slightly. After a moment, she laughs and puts her hand over her mouth, "Oh, hell. I think the grove is still affecting my brain."

Shateishael nods to Zareh, "Don' s'prise me 'tall, ac'sh'ly. Horses 're like that, 'n if'n his bein' half horse... uhh..." His voice trails off as he looks down at Bella, then grins amusedly, "Uhm... we wanna know, beautiful, 'r 's it safer not to?"

Bella just shakes her head, still smiling, but she speaks anyway, "I was just thinking of someone acting the stallion to Thea, and then my mind went off into thoughts of stallions and mares. I'm sorry." Rosenstern blinks to Bella, then stifles his own giggles. Bella is actually blushing a little, "Well, it's not like she's a normal mare or anything..."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, rubbing his cheek gently against the top of her head as he rumbles, "Thea'n me gotta ole, ole 'greement -- I c'n bring home alla th'folks I wanna, but she's got veto power on who's herd 'n who ain't. So if'n she d'cides centaurs is good folks, she might wanna try f'foals wi'Karl 'r Ajax. 'S up t'their b'havior 'n her d'cision, y'know?"

Zareh finally thinks to answer Rosenstern's questions, sort of, "You are very welcome. I'll have Ayra write you a care sheet for them. I don't keep paper and pen handy."

Rosenstern beams, "Thank you, Lady. I really do want to care for them properly."

Zareh leans over and kisses Rosie on the cheek, like an aunt with favorite nephew, "I can tell. You are welcome in my garden any time, Flowerkin."

Ayra grins, "Oh, dear... Karl as a father." She shakes her head, "The Gryphon is the only one left. He used to have a treasure, but he had to abandon it. I think he still mourns."

Shateishael rumbles wistfully, "Aw, tha's sad. Poor guy. 'Less he thinksa horses as dinner, he'd be welcome at th'ranch too, 'm thinkin'. He th'kind wi'eagle front 'n lion back end, 'r th'horse style back end, 'r sumpin' else 'ntirely?"

Ayra makes a waffling motion with her hand, "He has wings and talons on the front. The back is... not exactly a lion. He has a tail, but it hasn't a tuft. And his fur is black, almost more a jaguar than a lion."

Shateishael says, "Huh! Fascinatin'. Where's he's from, 'riginally?"

Ayra looks sheepish, "I don't actually know. Do you, mother?"

Zareh shakes her head, "Sadly, no. He doesn't speak too much of it."

Shateishael says, "Wuz won'drin' 'cause jaguars're New World, not Old World -- but I never heard a' New World gryphons?" He thinks a moment, his hands gently stroking Bella as she leans against him... then he grins, eyes alight with interest, "That'd be new -- kinda nifty!"

Ayra nods, smiling, "It would be, but I think he's from the old country. Perhaps a panther of some sort."

Shateishael nods to Ayra, then glances at Rosenstern, standing there with flowers wound through his streaming hair, in his rose karada and nothing else, absolutely unselfconscious while his hands are full of flowers -- probably one of Rosie's favorite poses, now Slate thinks about it. Slate grins with gentle affection at the absorbed little Mercurian, then rumbles to Ayra, "Ma'am, if'n we c'd trouble ya f'th' instructions f'th' Hera's Tears flow'rs, 'n th'list a' Winter courtiers who might be willin' t'talk wi'us 'fore Winter Court... we'd much 'ppreciate it, 'n we'd be happy t'get outta y'all's hair?"

Ayra nods, "Most certainly. I'll write them up back in the encampment."

Bella pulls away from Slate slightly and slides her hands into Rosie's hair, sighing blissfully, "I wish we had a way to keep this image..."

Shateishael rumbles quietly, "Thank y'kindly, Miz Ayra." He watches Bella for a moment, smiling faintly as he feels that gentle tugging of desire drawing him to his beloveds again, then bows politely and rumbles to the Willow Lady, "Ma'am, y'been too kind, 'n we cain't thank ya 'nuff f'y'r hospitality... but 'm thinkin' might be good f'us t'head on out soon. Garden's gotta real strong pull." He automatically starts to reach out for Rosenstern, then catches himself -- must not ravish his sweet little sub with Bellisima, right here in front of everyone!

Zareh laughs softly, watching Bella touch Rosie with something like nostalgia in her eyes, "If you feel you must."

Shateishael rumbles amusedly, "Ma'am, love t'stay... but'm 'fraid we'd use poor Rosie right up if'n we did. He don' hold back nuthin' -- jus' keeps pourin' himself out." He sighs quietly, gently stroking Rosie's back between the rope-like rose branches, and nods to Bella, "Me too, Bellisima."

Bella takes a deep breath and forces herself to step back, closing her eyes until the heat fades enough to let her think again, "Yes, going home would be good..."

Ayra hugs and kisses the top of her mother's head, then turns to the angels, "I'll take you back through the Tether."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, one hand stroking along Bella's back for a moment -- then he catches himself, rumbling a touch embarrassedly to Bella, "Sorry, sweetheart..."

Bella smirks and steps into Slate's arms, leaning in to nip at his chest, quite deliberately catching his nipple, "Take us home." Shateishael gives a startled grunt at that -- then growls amusedly at Bella, his arms coming up around her in a teasingly tight hug for a moment. Then he grins, reaching out an arm to loop it about Rosie's slender waist, drawing the little Mercurian closer. The other arm is still about Bella, if she wishes... and when they're all ready Slate will follow Ayra... a little slowly, a bit wistfully, since he does rather enjoy his lovers' blissful appetites here. Ayra leads the angels back to the grove and the pool, very carefully not looking back toward the knot of lovers. However, if they listen closely, they hear her humming softly to herself.

Shateishael's gait unwittingly slows as they get closer to the grove, and he finds himself wanting to draw deep breaths of Rosie's flower-scented hair, or gently kiss Bella's temple. Bella also finds herself walking slowly, having to take deep breaths and step gently away from Slate just to keep going forward. Slate has to concentrate to not simply start lasciviously stroking his beautiful lovers... so instead he concentrates on whatever it is Ayra's humming. He blinks, recognizing the tune, and quietly sings along,

"Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
Ere I forget all the joy that is mine... today...
"
His voice trails off softly as he watches his gorgeous lovers walking with him, through the miraculous and unexpected lands of the fae.

Ayra steps through the ring of trees and there's a quiet murmurs, almost like a Song and a soft, golden light spills out through the trunks of the trees. Shateishael sighs quietly, his gaze almost reverent... then he follows his beloveds into the Light. Through the ring of trees Ayra is silhouetted against the magnificent light, beckoning the angels on. "Through the light into the pool, Friends... we'll be back in the Pavilion." She laughs softly, "And back in your own clothes."

Shateishael rumbles under his breath, "Darn..." then chuckles ruefully at himself. He takes one last, long look at his beloveds as they are now -- Bella comfortably dressed, with her flower tiara settled on her beautifully mussed hair, and Rosenstern wearing nothing but flowers -- tied all over his body, streaming through his hair, bound about his ankles and wrist... Slate sighs, closing his eyes to hold that image forever... then opens his eyes again and follows the beautiful little Mercurian and the voluptuous Bright into the pool. He's wistfully wishing he could keep at least Rosie in flowers like that as he steps through.

Stepping into the Light, the music in it seems to sink into the Celestial's Vessels, seeming to meld with them, feeling as if they actually become Light for a moment. It is so bright that when they find themselves on the other end they are momentarily blinded by the dimness inside the pavilion. The music, however, stays -- or rather, there is still music: a single panpipe playing a plaintive tune. Shateishael takes a deep breath, centering himself, then looks around as his eyes adjust. He wonders if the panpipe is Bacchus, missing his beloved Willow Lady. He feels slightly sparkly, for some reason, even after they've stepped through the Light. It's a very pleasant sensation. He gently runs one hand over the back of each lover, making sure they're okay.

The pipe is indeed being played by Bacchus, who is sitting and watching the central pillar. Once the angels have stopped blinking blindly, he lowers his pipe, rising with a smile, "Welcome back."

Shateishael nods politely to Bacchus, "Thanks." He draws a slow breath again, looking around the pavilion to see if anyone else is there -- then at his lovers, to see how they're doing.

Bella leans against Slate, eyes closed, a smile on her lips. She shivers just a little, smiling up at her Seraph lover -- then blinks and steps back, looking at him, "Your clothes...." She looks down at herself as well.

Only Bacchus, his daughter and the Celestials are in the pavilion. And the angels are dressed exactly as they were when they were in the Garden. Ayra blinks as well, then turns to her father, "Is the Glamour up?" The satyr chuckles and nods, "Aye. The sun just set."

Rosenstern blinks as they arrive... ostensibly in his own clothes but for some reason he's still in the rose karada... here... with nothing covering him whatsoever. Shateishael laughs softly, gently stroking Bella's hair, curving his arm about Rosie's garlanded waist, "'Kay... gotta 'dmit I like it." Then he gets a thoughtful look, taking a moment to study both Bella's and Rosie's gazes. Are they still strongly manifesting their archetypes? He rumbles quietly to the satyr as he does so, "Bacchus, how long's it been since we left?" The Archetypes aren't riding the angels quite as strongly as they were on the other side of the tether, but Bella is still looking rather hungrily at Rosie in his karada. Shateishael grins at Bella's avid interest, leaning to kiss her gently on the temple and murmur, "Don' d'vour th'poor Rosebud right 'way, lover."

Bacchus is blinking slowly at Rosie as he answers, "A little less than two full days, Slate... is... that what he manifested in when he crossed over?" The question seems directed at Ayra. The dryad laughs softly, "No, he manifested bare as a baby. They put him in that in the Bower." At mention of the Bower, Bacchus laughs softly, "That explains why you were gone so long."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, then rumbles in explanation, "Ac'sh'ly, 'pparently we, uh... dunno whutcha call it... we... traded a bit there?" He runs a finger through the soft hair behind Rosenstern's left ear so the multi-colored strand shows. He beams almost proudly at the slight Mercurian, adding, "Y'look really beautiful, li'l blossom." Rosenstern's blush deepens.

The satyr looks startled, glancing at Ayra for confirmation. The dryad nods, motioning toward the lock of Rosenstern's hair that Slate is showing off. Bacchus steps closer, peering at each of the angels and whistling through his teeth, "Oh, my."

Shateishael adds with wry amusement to Bacchus, "Din' realize y'all'd given us archetypes... 'nitially, at least."

Bacchus looks sheepish, "It wasn't so much that we gave them to you as you manifested them when you passed the glamour."

Shateishael studies Bacchus for a moment... then rumbles inquiringly, "Did y'all know that'd happen?"

Bacchus shakes his head solemnly, "No. Not as strongly as it did. It has been a long time since we had angels among us... and the last ones were..." He thinks for a moment, "They embodied something... Fl...ight. Or Creation."

Shateishael says, "Flight? Dunno 'bout that... Lightnin', maybe?" He grins, adding, "An' y'got Creation here now."

Bacchus looks startled, starting to step back, "One of you has taken the place of Eli?" He looks almost frightened.

Shateishael says, "No! No-no, jus' that one a' his is here -- jus' like I'm one a' Stone's. Sorry."

Bacchus laughs and takes a relieved breath, "Oh... oh, good. I feared... I feared he had been harmed. He used to be very welcome in the different courts."

Rosenstern blinks in surprise. "Eli was... was in the courts?"

Shateishael blinks as it registers -- Bacchus knows what Creation's name is, even though he can't clearly remember the last angels that had been here. The unbidden thought comes to him, [Could he really be Oberon? Surely not -- Oberon was classically a fairy, not a satyr... and if he was, Bacchus would lead, not Soma.] He pauses, considering a moment... then firmly pushes that speculation out of his head. He'd rather not get verification of that -- he'd be in a terribly difficult position if David ever asked. Then he shakes his head, "Nah, Eli's fine far's I know, dude. Las' I saw him wuz wi'Bellisima, 'n fact, coupla years 'go." He pauses, startled again, "Eli wuz welcome inna Winter Court too?"

Bella is stepping toward Rosenstern, trailing her fingers along the lines of the karada that encase the front of his body as she murmurs, "More like a few decades, love. Forty years, almost..."

Shateishael rumbles amusedly, "Tha's coupla years... 'r there'bouts..."

Bacchus smiles a bit, "Eli visited the courts, yes. Though he wasn't quite as welcome in the Winter or the Summer. I meant more that he visited us all before we consolidated. Before Uriel."

Shateishael says, "Ah, gotcha." He grins, somehow unsurprised, "He's like that, yeah..."

Rosenstern shivers with the touch, and nods a little. "Oh... I see..."

Shateishael tilts his head thoughtfully, watching Rosie and Bella together with a soul-deep pleasure... without looking away he rumbles, "Bacchus, is there s'pposedta be court t'night?"

Bella is smiling, her nails moving over Rosenstern's pectorals, "He is like that..." She's starting to lean in toward the Mercurian, her fingertips finding his nipples, but Slate's question brings her back a little, "Oh! Uhm... are we holding things up?"

Shateishael blinks, "We are? Oh... sorry 'bout that. Wuz jus' thinkin'd be nice t'show th'lovely blossom off if there wuz Court planned...? 'Though we'll needta put th'flow'rs someplace safe first -- Rosie'll wanna make sure they're 'kay."

Bacchus chuckles and shakes his head, "You're not holding anything up. Court is outside tonight."

Shateishael tilts his head inquiringly at Bacchus, "Y'waited f'us? 'R y'jus' wanted some peace 'n quiet?"

Bacchus smiles quietly, "We've been taking turns waiting on you. Myself, Karl, Ajax, and Peony."

Shateishael smiles, "Then thanks, guy. 'Ppreciate it... 'n we'd liketa give our thanks t'th'others too." He grins at his lovers, holding out his arms, "Y'all wanna go wow th'Court with y'r gorgeousness?" He adds to Ayra, "Miz Ayra, thank y'kindly f' 'scortin' us, too."

Rosenstern blushes a little, then looks at the flowers he carries. "I would like to see these to a safe place first, though..."

Shateishael grins with gently teasing affection at Rosenstern, "Gonna hafta walk through court t'get t'our camp, sweet blossom."

Ayra smiles and holds out her hands, "If you would like, I'll take them back to the Flowers camp. I can keep them safe and planted there until you take them home."

Shateishael brightens, "Oh, good idea -- thanks, Ayra!" He gently nudges Rosenstern, "G'wan, sweetlin'... give her th'flow'rs, 'n then we c'n go show y'off."

Rosenstern smiles, bowing to Ayra as he hands her the flowers. "Thank you, Ayra. I really appreciate it."

Ayra takes the flowers and kisses Rosie's cheek, "You're very welcome. I'm sure Soma wants to see you." Bacchus chuckles quietly and nods, "He has seemed a bit... moony." Rosenstern blushes, smiling softly and shyly.

Shateishael waits until Ayra's accepted the flowers and moved off, then rumbles very quietly to Rosenstern, "Li'l blossom, 'd love t'show y'off like y'are now... but if'n y'r really uncomfy 'bout whatcha wearin', c'n loan ya m'shirt?'

Bacchus smiles, "Would you like me to go fetch him before you plunge into the chaos?"

Shateishael shakes his head to Bacchus, "Nah, not yet, please," then looks back at Rosenstern. Bacchus nods, standing quietly, almost at parade rest, waiting for the angels to make their decision.

Rosenstern blinks to Slate, then shakes his head, "N-no, honest, Slate, I... I'll be fine."

Shateishael smiles slowly at Rosenstern, his face warming -- he was hoping Rosenstern would come to that decision! -- then slides an arm about the little Mercurian's waist, intending to put Rosie between himself and Bella. "'Kay then. We'll stick close t'ya, no worries, pretty flow'r." He gently strokes Rosie's hair, his eyes going half closed for a moment at the rich, intoxicating scent... then beams at his beautiful lovers, "Y'all ready?" He finds himself inordinately proud of his beautiful lovers... a chance for them to practically parade their loveliness is something he doesn't want them to lose. Being who he is, he genuinely sees himself as a foil to their shining -- a role he's deeply happy to play for them.

Bacchus smiles, "You want to take Soma by surprise with your arrival back?"

Shateishael tilts his head at Bacchus inquiringly, "That a bad idea? Thought he'd be pleased?" He grins, waving his free hand at Rosie, "An' don' th'Rosebud look stunnin'?" He adds with quiet joy, "They both do, really..."

Bacchus' eyes twinkle, "He's likely to stop dead in the middle of whatever he's doing."

Shateishael thinks a moment, then asks Bacchus seriously, "He doin' anythin' like lightin' fires're such?"

Rosenstern blushes shyly at Slate's praise. "Yes... it'll be nice to surprise him...."

Bacchus laughs and shakes his head, "No. Not that I know of." While Slate and Bacchus are discussing this, Bella has reaches across Slate's body, one hand stroking along Rosie's side.

Shateishael nods with satisfaction, "Then 'm hopin' it's a lovely s'prise f'him too." He grins at Bella, "Y'ready, sweetheart? Let's put Rosie b'tween us f'now, 'kay?"

Bella blinks and nods, moving around to Rosie's side, taking a deep breath, "I'll even do my best to behave."

Shateishael smiles with quiet affection at Rosie, his strong arm secure about the little Mercurian's slight waist. He gently runs the back of one finger along Rosie's face, trailing along the jaw line, then down across the throat to trace a circle around one nipple. He rumbles thoughtfully to Bella, "'M wond'rin' if'n they 'xpect t'see th'archetypes, ac'sh'ly... 'n if'n so, 'm thinkin' better you 'n th' sweetblossom manifest than me...?"

Rosenstern lifts up his chin at Slate's touch, shivering deliciously, a small smile playing across his lips. Then he takes in a soft breath at the touch upon his chest. "How do you mean, Slate?"

Bella nods, her hand sliding down Rosie's back until she can curl her fingers and drag her nails over the sweet curve of his bare behind, "If I manifest with him like this, it's going to get very interesting."

Bacchus clears his throat slightly, still standing at parade rest, his pan-pipe in front of his hips, "I recommend if you're going out, you do it now." He smiles almost wickedly, "Please. Because I'm having to work at being polite here."

Shateishael chuckles, "Well, 's up t'y'all -- I'll s'pport y'r decisions, either way," he grins ruefully, "since there idn't gonna be need f'th'Warrior." He chuckles at Bacchus, then gently starts steering Rosie towards the pavilion entrance, hoping Bella will come along, "C'mon... le's go show off how breath-takin' y'all are!"

Bella follows along, letting the men get just a step or two ahead as they leave the pavilion. Shateishael glances over his shoulder at Bella, smiling... and making a mental note -- must ask why she keeps doing that! Then he puts Rosenstern slightly ahead of himself, resting his hands lightly on Rosie's shoulders, so Rosie will show first coming through the pavilion entrance, but hopefully still feel well supported.

Outside, court is in session. The buffet tables are set up, but there's not yet music. However, a pair of willowy young sidhe is setting up a pair of hammered dulcimers near one edge of the commons area. Soma is standing with two blue-skinned nymphs, smiling at something they are saying. Despite the enjoyment he is evincing, something about his eyes doesn't look quite engaged.

Rosenstern lets himself be ushered out of the pavilion without complaint -- and then he spots Soma, and his knees feel weak. Shateishael smiles quietly, standing behind Rosie and waiting. He knows folks will fall silent once they spot the little Mercurian -- and eventually Soma will notice. He'd like Rosie to see Soma's reaction -- that'd be nice, he thinks.

Indeed, something very like that is exactly what happens. Eyes on the edge of the crowd nearest them move over Rosie and there's a murmur that draws more gazes -- some appreciative, some simply observant. The whisper moves across the gathering until it reaches the blue-skinned monarch and he turns to see what is causing the commotion. When his cobalt eyes fall on Rosenstern, bound in still-blooming flowers, he goes utterly still and his gaze turns from distracted and curious, to heated. The fae lord is wearing a pair of baggy-legged black silk pants and nothing else, showing a pair of silver rings currently through his nipples. Without so much as actually taking leave of the nymphs, he begins moving across the intervening space -- as a bee drawn to the sweetest flower in the meadow.

Shateishael smiles quietly, leaning his head down to whisper to Rosenstern, "Y'wanna spend li'l time wi'Soma, sweetness?"

Rosenstern swallows faintly, unable to take his eyes off of Soma. "Y-yes, please, Slate," he whispers.

Shateishael smiles, letting his lips brush lightly across Rosie's ear as he murmurs, "'Kay. I'll ask him t'stay in sight t'night, 'n we'll talk t'morra 'bout some stuff, 'kay?"

Soma strides through the gathered Ethereals, intent upon his flower-entwined lover. The Summer Lord does catch himself short of simply crushing Rosie to his body, dragging his eyes to Slate's, his voice slightly hoarse, "Friends, I see you have returned safely." His hands are curled into fists at his sides as if he doesn't trust himself to reach out.

Shateishael nods quietly, standing behind Rosie and looking at Soma over the Mercurian's rose-bedecked head, "Yeah." He smiles, "Thought y'might like t'spend li'l time wi'Rosie like this." He politely adds, "Couldja stay in sight though t'night, please?"

Soma nods in answer to Slate's question, though his gaze has been dragged back to drink in Rosie's breath-taking form. Reaching out to touch the Mercurian's chin, he smiles wryly, "Though my mind is on things best done privately, I will respect your wishes, Warrior."

Shateishael rumbles quietly, "Thank you, Summer Lord." He smiles, murmuring to Rosie, "G'wan, sweetheart. Have a lovely time, 'kay?" and gives the little Mercurian a gentle nudge towards the fae lord.

Rosenstern blushes, half-closing his eyes as he lets Soma lift up his chin, no longer making an attempt at modesty. "Y-yes, Slate. Thank you..." and his voice trails off.

Shateishael smiles with quiet affection at the almost dazed-seeming little angel, sliding an arm about Bella as he watches. Soma leans over Rosenstern, lips finding Rosie's mouth, the kiss delicate at first, though the effort for it to start that way shows in the tension in his arms and the line of his back. Gentleness, however, soon fades into hunger, the fae losing himself in the sweet Flowerkin. Shateishael grins quietly, stepping neatly around the two lovers, and strolls towards the tables, murmuring to Bella, "Y'wanna drink, lover?"

Bella lets herself be guided around Rosie and Soma, murmuring, "I think I might need something cool after seeing that, yes..." She slides her hand along Slate's back, letting her nails graze his skin slightly.

Shateishael grins with lazy pleasure at the lovely Bright, shivering slightly at her touch, "Wuzn't that nice t'see?" He sighs contentedly, genuinely happy for Rosie.

Bella laughs quietly, "Nice is one way to describe it, yes." She looks back over her shoulder at Rosie and Soma, still absorbed in one another, then looks up at Slate thoughtfully.

Shateishael heads for the buffet tables, looking for kegs or other such drinkables. He's feeling very alive tonight... Bella's body against him feels warm and lithe and wonderful, and after the sensual overload of the Marches, this is almost a relief! He hms inquiringly at Bella's look, holding up two fingers to the young fae by the kegs. The young Satyr, Pan, is manning the kegs and he smiles widely as he passes two brimming mugs to Slate. He doesn't speak, however, since the two Celestials look rather caught up in something. Once they have their drinks and are moving away from the buffet, Bella tips her head to the side consideringly, then takes a deep breath and asks, "Would you do that for me sometime?"

Shateishael nods a thank you to Pan, handing one mug to Bella before heading to a table with her. He smiles, holding a chair for her, "Sure, beautiful. Do which?"

Bella laughs and takes the seat, smoothing the legs of her pants carefully, "You agree and you don't know what I'm asking for?"

Shateishael grins, seating himself and having a sip of the fine ale before he answers. He sighs contentedly, then smiles affectionately at Bella, "Sweetheart, you were jus' lookin' at Rosie 'n Soma, 'n they're havin' a wunnerful time! Whut's not t'agree to?"

Bella holds onto her mug, but doesn't quite take a sip yet, smiling at Slate's easy surety that she wouldn't ask him anything unpleasant, "I..." She laughs a little, having to take a deep breath, lowering her voice as if she doesn't want to be too brash about the request, "I think I'd like to have you tie me up like that. If you'd like."

Shateishael's eyebrows raise at that, and he tilts his head thoughtfully at Bella... then looks at Rosie and Soma again. He grins -- they're still kissing! -- then turns and smiles at Bella, "'Kay, sweetheart. Y'mind if'n I do some research first? Don' wanna do sumpin' damagin' outta ign'rance."

Bella leans over and kisses Slate's cheek, putting her lips close to his ear to whisper, "I don't mind. I didn't expect it tonight."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, murmuring back, "Oh, good." He brings his hand up to gently cup Bella's cheek, adding in quiet concern, "Sweetheart... were y'scared t'ask me 'r sumpin'? Promise I'll be careful, if'n that's whutcha were worried 'bout?"

Bella turns her head to kiss Slate's palm, "I wasn't scared, no. Not exactly."

Shateishael tilts his head curiously again, even as he smiles at the gentle kiss, "You know I wouldn' carelessly hurtcha, Bellisima, yeah? Or..." he ponders, trying to figure things out, "...wuz there sumpin' else worryin' ya?"

Bella takes Slate's hand in both of hers, carefully kissing each of his fingertips and smiling, "I'm not sure I can explain it." Shateishael nods interestedly, watching -- and trying to focus, as Bella is quite distracting! He waits for Bella to explain in her own time; if it's something she's a bit nervous about he certainly doesn't want to rush her or make her feel at all uncomfortable. Bella keeps hold of Slate's hand, smiling a bit, "It's... hard to explain. Asking for something like that; it opens you up. Makes you... vulnerable."

Shateishael thinks about that for a bit, then rumbles puzzledly, "Isn't bein' someone's lover kinda intimate 'n vulnerable too though, sweetheart?"

The Bright laughs and shrugs, "It is. But... you can still sort of guard yourself, you know?"

Shateishael says, "Would think that'd be scarier, leastaways th'first time..." he considers, then amends, "least'ways f'me. Um..." he still looks a bit puzzled, "'m real sorry, sweetheart, but 'm not sure yet whutcha mean, 'm thinkin'..." he sounds a bit worried, "y'feel th'need t'guard y'self 'gainst me?"

Bella squirms in her seat. This is one of those conversations she's been trying very hard not to have for a very long time. "Not... I'm not afraid you're going to hurt me, Slate. I don't feel like I have to be afraid of you." Shateishael nods encouragingly to Bella, still gently holding one of her hands and listening carefully as he tries to understand. He does make a mental note, however, to be excruciatingly careful never to lose his temper in battle around Bella! He's a bit worried how she'd react, especially considering this strange conversation they're currently having.

Bella squeezes Slate's hand back and tries to smile encouragingly, "I feel like... like I get lost with you. I get all caught up and like I'm not just me any more. I'm... me-and-you. It's like my edges blur. It's scary. Sort of."

Shateishael is looking a bit confused, but nods encouragingly again. His ice-blue gaze is locked on Bella, trying very hard to figure out what she means, "So... th'scary's th'feelin'... mixed up wi'me?"

Bella squirms again, cheeks pinkening. This sounded a lot more reasonable when she wasn't saying it out loud, "The scary feeling is that I'm losing me in there somewhere." She leans her head down and kisses the tip of each of Slate's fingers, "Being with you, with Rosie... it's... the most peaceful I've ever been. But it's... oh, hell, I don't know how to explain it."

Shateishael watches Bella, utterly confused by now, but hoping he's still being encouraging and reassuring, "Well... you... y'don' like feelin' peaceful durin' sex? Is that it?"

Bella laughs as she realizes she's truly gotten off-track in her explanations, "Mmm... have I ever once given you reason to think I didn't like how I felt during sex, Slate?"

Shateishael shakes his head, still smiling a bit bemusedly. He considers a moment, then tries again, "You... y'wanna be more'n control durin' sex, 'r sumpin'? No, wait... bein' tied up wouldn' do that, would it?" Bella actually lays her forehead on the table and laughs, shaking her head as she tries to figure out how to explain this. Shateishael blinks and grins a bit sheepishly at Bella, absolutely lost but quite willing to wait until she's able to explain what she wants from him. His eyes get a little smoky as he realizes the firelight is doing lovely things to her hair, and he reaches out and slowly strokes it back from her face as he waits, with all the patience of Stone in love.

Eventually the Bright raises her head and takes a deep breath, smiling at the way Slate caresses her. Even when she's trying to explain that he scares her with how much she loves him, she can't resist him, "OK, there's this song..." She gets up and moves carefully to put herself in Slate's lap, "You mind if I sing to you a little bit?"

Shateishael brightens, happily making a comfortable space for Bella, and puts his arms around her, if she doesn't seem to mind. Once she's settled he rumbles contentedly, "C'n sing 'long as y'd like t'me, Bellisima."

Bella leans close enough that she's almost whispering more than singing, her voice soft and a little husky.

"I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it
You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was
You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service
You've already won me over in spite of me
So don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault."

Shateishael's eyes go relaxedly half-closed, one hand gently stroking along Bella's hair and down her back, slowly repeating the pleasant gesture as he listens. He silently savors the warmth and softness, the sweetness and sound of her in his lap, and as she sings a slow smile slips over his lips. He doesn't interrupt her at all, although his arms come up in close, quietly reassuring warmth as he feels the emotion swelling in Bella.

She takes a breath and continues the song, voice starting to tremble a little bit.

"You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long?
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now
You've already won me over in spite of me
So don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault."

The song trails off with Bella's lips touching Slate's earlobe and tears trickling down her cheeks as she whispers, "I can't control it, Slate. I get near you and I'm the happiest I've ever been and I can't stop it. I've always been able to stop before."

Shateishael draws a slow, deep breath at her last words, turning his head just enough to let his lips brush hers, whispering back to her, "You wanna stop, beloved?"

Bella's voice is starting to spill out now, her hands going up and tangling in Slate's hair, tears spilling freely down her face as she shakes her head, "No, I don't. Right now, all I want is to be with you, with Rosie. To wrap myself up in you and never be let go. I want to be... helpless. I want our edges to blur. But when I'm away from you... it scares me that I want that." Her lips are still right there, her breath getting a little quick, a little shallow.

Shateishael smiles in quiet, silent relief at her answer. One large hand gently cups the back of Bella's head as he rests his forehead against hers and murmurs softly, "Then, 'less you change y'r mind, sweetheart... le's not stop. I like blurrin' wi'you -- makes me feel wunnerful! Makes me feel like I c'd do anythin' y'wanted -- makes me feel strong 'n powerful, 'n wanta share it all wi'you!" His lips gently brush hers again as he whispers a bit huskily, "Whut's wrong wi'that, beautiful? Whut's wrong wi'my wantin' t'give ya m'strength, 'n wantin' t'share what you wanna share wi'me?"

Singing for Slate seems to have unlocked the blocks that were keeping Bella from saying what's been in her head. "I... I don't... know." She blinks and laughs, wonder seeping in to replace the frantic need to just get the words out, "Oh, fuck... I don't know what's wrong with it. I... the ropes? It's something I understand. I get that. There are limits and confines there. It... I think it would give me something to push against so I'm not pushing against you." She laughs again, using her handholds in Slate's hair, voice taking on a hint of fierceness, "Don't ever let me be stupid enough to push you away because I'm being scared of being in love. Promise me."

Shateishael grins a little shakily at Bella, drawing a slightly ragged breath to sing very softly back to her,

"You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it..."
He takes another shaky breath, his arms warm and close about her, and almost whispers,
"You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service
You've already won me over in spite of me
So don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it..."

Shateishael's voice trails off softly, and he rests his head against her, eyes closed and drawing deep breaths. He can feel the emotion welling up inside him as well as he whispers, "I promise, my heart's song."

Bella makes more immediate use of the fistfuls of hair to pull Slate into a kiss, lips pressing against his like she wants to join into one body. The intensity of emotion has her feeling dizzy, as if light were going to come bursting out of her chest, her skin. [Oh fuck, is this how Soma feels when his skin glows? How can he stand it?] Her thoughts are whirling but joyous. Shateishael smiles in quiet joy against Bella's fierce kiss, eyes still closed. Tears are dampening his eyelashes, but it's completely unnoticed compared to the wonderful heat of his lover pressed so hungrily close. His large hands rove slowly over her lovely curves, and were he able he'd gladly meld with his beloved into one ecstatic united body. For now, though, he does the next best thing, returning her kisses with single-minded intensity.

Bella eventually breaks the kiss to ask in a breathless, amused voice, "We're still in public, aren't we?"

Shateishael makes a slightly confused rumble as Bella pulls away, blinking a touch dazedly at her before he takes a deep breath and shifts a bit, "Um... yeah...?"

Bella strokes her hands, shaky though they are, over Slate's shoulders. She's still smiling, "Then I need to resist the urge to rip this off of you."

Shateishael glances a bit wistfully over at Soma and Rosie, sighing softly, "Dayum. Really don' wanna cut into th' li'l Rosebud's fun time wi'Soma... but 'm really thinkin' th'tent'd be nice right now..." He blinks back at Bella, his gaze bright with happiness, and grins a bit shyly, "Um... guess so...?" His gaze gets a hint of mischief in it as one hand slides slowly under the loose top Bella's wearing, although he tries hard to look innocently at her.

Bella takes a deep breath. Then another, eyes half-closing as Slate's hand moves beneath the loose cloth of her blouse, "Mmmm... you're right. I think Rosie deserves as much time with Soma as he can get." She grins and kisses Slate's temple, mumbling, "But I'm not getting out of your lap."

Shateishael laughs softly, hugging Bella tightly for a moment as he whispers in quiet joy to her, "Goddess, but you're wonderful!"

Passion is augmented by trailing touches, intoxicating scent and taste, and softly whispered endearments, as the two angels struggle to rein in their joyous desire for each other so that Rosie may spend a bit more time with Soma. At some point, when it's too much for them to resist any more, they somewhat breathlessly apologize to Soma and take their leave, the lovely little Mercurian in tow... and once the threesome has returned to their tent, they do their best to melt together in ecstasy.

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

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