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[npc-excolo.livejournal.com]

Time has little meaning here, though your body back home may disagree.

Dream.

A forest.

A forest of the oldest sort, thick with brambles, trees snarled with centuries of life. It stretches for miles, many of them very dark, because the trees grow so close that it is hard to see. From a high vantage point, on one of the hills of the forest, one may glimpse a tower at the heart of the forest, a great graceful column of grey stone. Here and there there are clearings, bright with sunlight, and streams running with clear water. But mostly there is dark.

In the distance, the howl of a wolf.

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Comments

[fairy-fiona.livejournal.com]

It's wrong wrong wrong just like the tower and everyone's shouting and fighting and cutting and the bad man's other hand is gone now and I wish the prince hadn't hurt anyone! I can feel the iron everywhere and it hurts. And they shouldn't be doing this at Miao's house!

"This is wrong!" I shout. "Stop it! You stop right now!" I point at the bad man, and I make him stop

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Well, hell, hand cracked like a shell, and look what comes down with the pieces. Hostess calls for lack of bloodshed, and guest or not he breaks hard with that, thin sharp knife and princes and wolf taking after him as he's after the fair woman. Three sharp edges and a pair of teeth, that's not aught I'm throwing myself into--

"This is wrong! Stop it!" and glance up to see the faerie. "You stop right now!" and the words shiver in the air and he does. Catches him up on one elbow trying to pull himself up and away from the tangle when she speaks. One of them's catching at him, and his coat's falling apart along its stitching, and he's frozen in the grass by the pool, staying still as stone.

Call that the matter of why I'm cautious 'round faeries.

Stand up as the pieces of his coat gust away (http://community.livejournal.com/estdeus_innobis/405311.html?thread=10309951#t10315327), and look 'round. No-one's seeming particular after taking anyone else. "He tear into any of you?" This I can help if so, and if not we've a key now, taken from cracked stone.

[valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com]

The fairy turns him to stone.

"Well," I say after a moment. "I suppose that solves one problem." I look at the fae child cautiously, then offer the outlaw my hand so he can get up. The blonde girl rushes to his side and asks him if he's alright, and Glas is asking if we're hurt.

"Not me," I say. "If we're all well," I say, "I suggest we continue our quest (http://community.livejournal.com/estdeus_innobis/405996.html). I'm sorry for interrupting you like this, madam," I say, bowing to the woman who lives by the pond.

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

"I am the remaker, I am the thief of faces," Westin says, and his teeth are bared, glowing the sick green of dying flesh, and he lunges, lunges like a wild thing for Hope, the kind and beautiful Hope -

It is her husband who protects her, as he should, but it is the princely man who severs his hand, and the wolf who lunges to bite, and it is the winged child who rises up and screams, "This is wrong! Stop it! You stop right now!" and Westin....stops. The green becomes grey, there is the crackling sound of marble, and there he stands at the edge of my golden fish's pond, frozen forever.

"He tear into any of you?" Glas asks. And the princely man shrugs, helping Hope's husband to rise.

"Not me. If we're all well. I suggest we continue our quest. I'm sorry for interrupting you like this, madam." He is bowing to me, but I hardly notice. The green moss is scuffed where the fight happened, Westin's hand is twitching on the grass, and there is blood in my fish's pond. There is blood staining his clear water ruby, and the swirls in agitation at its center. And my legs are shaking, and I fall to my knees, and I begin to weep.

[hopeorfaith.livejournal.com]

This was all 'orrible an' I wish I could wake up. Try pinchin' myself an' it don't work, an' then I rush over to Edmund's side. Seems 'e's ok. Is this my - what'd the doc call it, my subconscious? - way o'my brain sayin' I pick Edmund over Westin? Cos I knew that already, didn't need to turn the poor bloke to stone. An' then Miao's cryin', an' I go over an' put my arm around 'er.

"Oh Miao," I say, "this is all so 'orrid. Don't cry. It'll be alright."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

She is unhappy; well she might be, I suppose. But there's precious little in the way of growth or discovery that comes without breaking or blood, and a tower to get to.

"You ought come," I say, since the pool is filling so with blood. Consider her friend thoughtful, and the prince with her, and then continue on (http://community.livejournal.com/estdeus_innobis/405996.html?#t10312428). Trust they can carry her, if she chooses.