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a note from lord deior

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Welcome, dear guest,

I regret to inform you that at this point in time, the world as you know it will never be. Through an unfortunate series of events, the universe has suffered an ontological cataclysm. It has been unmade such that it never truly existed at all.

It is my intention to right this great wrong. In the intervening lapse in time, I urge patience. You need only wait, and your homes will be made new. I invite you to take refuge within Holloway’s Keep. My household staff is at your service and I trust you will work with them through your shared trials. In exchange for my hospitality, I ask one favour; you must always keep a record of your time here.

Your humble host,

Deior, Lord of Holloway's Keep.

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[Her head lowers until the bony ridges under her jaw scrape the flooring. As her glinting drake's eyes settle on Duran, the images -- and everything else -- surge through his mind lest he choose to block them.

Lush green land, open skies, hunts for a mother and her brood to share. Broodsisters and brothers falling, returning to Earth. A mother joining them in gray winter and two sisters alone, warring, protecting, suffering and splitting. The sky taken, kin restored, new life. Struggling and loving in cold metal civilization.

A need to protect and preserve... failure. Failure? Failure.]

[He remains still, silently allowing the images and feelings to pass from the dragon to himself and when she's done, Duran nods.]

Understood.

[It's an oddly familiar story that Moonie has shared with him. Perhaps, with this, she'll easier understand the need for cooperation.]

And that is why we must not fail. Consider your home, your history, momentarily out of reach.

[It isn't the wrong answer, considering there likely is no RIGHT response to give that would soothe her frenzy, but neither does it make her want to calm down.

The images and emotions disappear, replaced by sweeping outrage and incredulousness at what she could possibly help to accomplish that doesn't involve killing.

A hiss surges up her throat and between her saliva-slick fangs. Heat gathers.]

[He shakes his head, expression darkening.]

I have no say in who is here. Better not to dwell on who or what would have been the more ideal candidate. I do not care.

[The shadows surge from his being, wisping from the edges of his form like black flames burning close. It's a silent warning that he's ready to react if she chooses to attack or cause further destruction.]

Destroying this place will solve nothing, only further doom the slim chance of rebuilding what has been lost. I ask you, Moonie Ortrun Brandt, to stand down.

[The copper dragon gives a deeply affronted cough. Scorn colors the next wave of thought.

The oxygen in her lungs is hot and ready, but she hasn't yet settled on what to do next. Duran is succeeding in stalling her, at least.]

[He gives a slight bow, head lowering a fraction.]

Moonie, then. Appologies for the mistake.

[Standing tall, Duran watches her carefully.]

What would you have me do then, Moonie? I cannot send you home, yet, nor can I bring your sister to this place.

[He takes care to make and maintain eye contact.]

I also cannot allow you to run rampant through this Keep or harm any within it's reach.

[She rears onto her hind legs, wings unfolding to fan out in all their majesty. It's a fine display in its own right.

If only... if only she knew what to do, where to go. Moonie lets her bulk fall heavily. Her wings draw in on themselves but do not rest low against her scaled breast.]

[Duran frowns.]

Very well.

[The shadows burst from all sides, sweeping over the room and plunging the pair of them into total darkness. Should Moonie breathe fire, it won't give any more than a short burst of light.]

I ask again, Moonie. Please calm yourself.

[He might have successfully talked her down then if the shadows had not come.

Ingrained defiance and millennia of experience with challenges to her strength dictate she must react. Sensory deprivation on top of the open baiting (whether or not he sees it as such) force her move.

Her head whips to the side, unleashing fire in a short-ranged arc of brief orange light. Moonie's batlike wings cling to her sides, her skull lowers, and she charges.]

[The shadows peel back where she moves, clearing a path between her and him. Duran does not move, nor make any attempt to return the strike. There is nothing hostile in his nature.

Blue eyes lock on hers as she charges.]

I have offended you. I appologize.

[Should she continue her charge, Moonie will find that she runs straight through him, as though she'd run through smoke.]

[She's almost too close to turn away, but she veers the split second before contact. Her tail smashes through him involuntarily, and it's fortunate the spikes and ridges won't affect him.

Moonie slows to an ambling canter and finally halts, the last vestiges of fire twining and receding past her fangs. Her snout points warily at the dark man. Reluctance tinges her next message.

More frustration, more loathing-- this time aimed at her own limitations. ]

[A new presence enters the room, magic rolling off of it in waves. The shadows peel back, allowing just enough space for Rem to walk.

He stops a short distance from Moonie.]

It is no illusion. But if our mere word is not enough, what would you have us do to prove ourselves?

[Duran nods to Rem as he appears, shadows rolling back away from the trio and vanishing back to where they came.

It's a question he'd asked earlier, lost to the woman in her rage. Perhaps Rem would have better luck. Duran remains silent and watching.]

[She'd heard it before and she hears it now but Moonie still has no satisfactory reply.

The newcomer draws almost all of her attention away from the shadow man. Funny that she mentions sorcery and here marches a user of the arts. The dragon's head sways left and right as she debates on how to proceed.

]

[Rem spreads his hands, an admittance of uncertainty.]

We are but people, just as you. I am no god. I cannot prove what has happened to your world. What has happened to every world. I can only ask you to think. To realize that this is no dream, if you know of dreams at all.

Tell me. You have destroyed this room, powerful as you are. Did it feel like an illusion?

[Rem always was better at explaining this kind of thing. Still, he watches, waiting for the moment he should act, if it comes. Duran will not hesitate to defend Rem if it comes to blows, but he trusts they can talk the woman down before that.]

This Keep exists as a safe-haven.

[There is nothing hostile in his words.]

If not acceptance, we ask that you at least consider the possibility that what we say is true.

[It's faintly unnerving to hear a dragon chuckle, gravelly and bitter.

She heaves a great sigh. Her mind is so cluttered, full of impotent fury and indecision. She has no idea where to go from here.

Yes. Your sister is not lost.

[His words are as truthful as they come.]

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Welcome

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Moonie whips her hair back and forth.

ALL NIGHT LONG 8'D

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gah sorry for lateness dudes

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