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The sentient oil had been watching Mak. Apparently, he smelled kind of familiar. The oil wasn't sure if that was good or bad: it was sentient, not bright.
Ghet had sloughed off more than the oil. She'd also shed a fair bit of emotion. The oil was, well, cranky. The guy over there, he "smelled" like he might be fun to aggravate, but the oil wasn't sure.
It was also absorbing all kinds of odd things off the floor. And there was a highly lubricated wake behind it.
That slip up there on the last of the stairs was a doozy and Galain had let out a wild yelp, grabbed wildly for Tay, continued to windmill his arms spectacularly and finally he just let the force of gravity take over as both he and An'Thaya careened into the taproom and slid under a table.
"OH gods... that is not the sort of entrance I ever want to repeat again," Galain after a moment of stunned silence on both their parts.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! You're on my hair!" Tay yelped, after spitting out several boa feathers, "Geroff!" Reaching over she tickled her husband's armpit and sighed in relief as he jolted up and off her long red locks. "Gods! What the heck was on the stairs?" Grumbling she crawled out from under the table then reached under to give Galain a hand.
Callan's dance with Fionna was interrupted by the sounds of armor and foul language coming down the stairs, or more accurately, falling down the stairs.
"Who is that?" Callan watched the feather clad elf pull himself off the floor, the Pull driving him nuts. So here was the female Red and one of the Golds.
"He's an Alcarin...isn't he?"
Fionna couldn't help but laugh. "No, Mira is not exactly docile but then I never claimed that many members of my friends and family are. In that respect she fits in perfectly" she said to Callan. Then her gaze sobered. "She is wanted because of who she is, not what she is. The question of status is rarely one that is taken into account here."
Her head turned at the clattering noise and she nodded at Callan's question. "Yes, that is Galain Alcarin and his wife, An’Thaya."
The boa probably had tucked itself into his trousers before they'd left the room upstairs and even now Galain was staring at it and wondering if he should just nonchalantly drape it around his neck. It was better to be doing this than respond to the massive itch his belly scales were giving off, but finally he couldn't stand it and ended up staring at Callan.
"There's our trouble," he told Tay quietly.
An'Thaya followed her husbands gaze, studying Callan intently. Agaru let loose a growl, a nice audible in the entire room type growl that left the Amazon quite taken aback, but her emerald eyes were flashing. "A black?" she murmured to Galain, "I don't think Agaru likes him much." Her inner dragon was Crimson, and they were well known for nasty dispositions and hot flames. Her fingers were scratching absently at her exposed belly scales and she backed up a step, standing slightly behind the much taller Elen.
Mak had watched his parents' arrival into the taproom with an aghast expression that was compounded by the irritation that he was still feeling thanks to the oil.
"Gods, won't they ever grow up?" He growled before knuckling at his forehead.
Callan smirked as the Elen Prince adjusted his feathers and arched an eyebrow at Fionna. "Station isn't much considered here? I can see that. Is he the sire of the one called Glory?"
"Hiding behind an elf, Red?" Callan's ice blue eyes drifted languidly up An'Thaya's form as she slipped behind her Alcarin husband, wondering if the woman was as fiery as the dragon inside. "Are you Glory's dam?"
"I AM an elf, who said I was hiding? Perhaps I just enjoy the view from back here?" Tay growled, then grabbed Galain's behind for a moment. Emerald eyes narrowed in response to the Black's next question, "Gloraelin? Yes, he's mine." She stepped out from behind Galain and glowered, trying to suppress Agaru, but not having too much luck. I'm not a red, the dragon snarled, taking advantage of An'Thaya's momentary distraction as she tried to figure out how this creature could know her son.
"I may have been looking at you, but I was addressing the one within you." Callan stretched lazily, and smiled, "I daresay, he's missing the better view by letting you stand there like that." Callan shrugged, then addressed the Crimson, "Red, Scarlet, Crimson, it's all the same to me, the color of blood and fire. What is your name, female?" Picking up on the moment of unbalance between the crimson dragon and the female elf, Callan added a little weight to his side of the scales.
"I met Glory once. Nairalirë is a fine young gold.... and is a fast learner." Callan added a bit of emphasis on that last part, letting both the elves and dragons know he'd been that close to their son.
Tay blushed nearly as crimson as the dragon within her, which only made her angry. Her fingers tapped at the hilts of her daggers as she tried to gag the crimson, but the female had always had a mind of her own.
Yours first male. She didn't care how close he had been to Nairalirë, he wasn't Agaru's hatchling, and the twins had been born before the dragon had come into being.
The Amazon cast a helpless look at Galain. How DID he shut up Lain? And what had Glory been doing so close to a black?
"Araxmarr Zavern Sar' Da in the Black tongue, Deathdream in common, most call me Callan. Now....yours." Callan did not speak the last as a request...it was something of a command. Smiling and wondering just how far the Crimson would be pushed, Callan pulled a knife from his boot and began casually cleaning his nails, his eyes shifting to Galain, sizing him up with the same searing look he'd given the red-head standing behind her husband.
"Glory is a sweet kid, really, but he seemed to have a problem with SunSong the first time I met him. It was on a sailing vessel...Y'Roden D'Riel's ship. Apparently, his sire hadn't taken a lot of time to teach him what a dragon needed to know. Would his sire be you, elf?"
Callan knew full well Galain was Glory's father, as probably the sire of the recently agitated, now quiet one in the room. The resemblance was uncanny. "He's a magnificent hunter, Gold. And his nature...he brings the Silver out in me...."
Deathdream? Agaru rumbled for a moment with the equivalent of a dragon smirk, and fell suddenly silent. The Crimson responded to commands about as well as An'Thaya did.
She didn't.
Ok... Tay was going to have a bit of a talk with her brother when he came downstairs. IF he ever did. Y’Roden hadn't set sail on the Lisse Nwalme in a good century or so. Why hadn't he ever mentioned any of this? "Silver?" Tay blurted out suddenly, eyeing the fellow curiously. How had a black and a silver? Well nevermind.. she didn't want to know.
You know... Galain was nursing his back end a bit, more than a little startled by the poke he'd received from his wife. And now he was staring hard at Callan, a low sibilant hiss escaping him. Nevertheless he felt some amount of pride in Glory.
"I'm his sire," the elf bit out, conscious that Mak was alert and listening, right behind them.
Callan went back to paring his nails, a soft laugh escaping his lips. He was pleased he'd gotten a rise out of the Gold/elf that quickly. The Crimson's temper he'd expected, Gold's were trickier. It sometimes took a great deal to aggravate one. The way this one was acting told him a lot about Glory's sire.
"So tell me Crimson, are you as stunning as the creature you reside in?"
"You have a fine son then, Alcarin." His eyes shifted from the one elf to the other, and he remembered who Glory's uncle was. The female would be D'Riel's sister, her eyes confirmed it. There were no other eyes like that...anywhere. "I believe there are two of them? Twins?"
Callan's pushing on the two in front of him suddenly ceased, his expression going benign. He'd tested their limits and knew how far he could go with them now, or...at least he thought. It was a beginning anyway.
Apparently Glory had been pretty open with this... Callan person. Tay quietly wondered what else her son had told the Black. "We have many fine children," An'Thaya muttered, not quite sure to make of his attitude. She cast a look over her shoulder at Mak, wondering what he was thinking of all this.
All Callan received from Agaru was a derisive snort. She was either disinterested, or playing hard to get. Tay was hoping for the first one.
The oil slick round Mak's feet was growing, and happy with it. Not only had it managed to irritate him, but the room was just chock full of people pissing each other off. It was now twice the size it had been when it came down the stairs, and giving off a quite palpable air of suppressed rage.
It was really hoping there was going to be punching. This room had an air of punching about it.
"Many fine children?" Callan's eyebrows rose a bit, "A healthy love life then. Tell me, sister of D'Riel...You are his sister, yes? You seemed surprised that I would be of mixed blood. Do you not know my daughter?" Callan's head tilted as he looked at An'Thaya, then Galain, his wings rustling slightly, the joints creaking in the dead silence of the room.
"Well, then, Red, I'll just call you that 'till I get a name..." Callan chuckled inwardly. Crimsons could be so much fun when riled...
Dante' had become rather silent, he glowered at Callan, not liking the fact that his master was testing everyone in the room. Friends could be made so much easier by other means, but Dante' wasn't entirely sure that making friends was what Callan had in mind....
To show is distaste for Callan's poor manners, Dante' hissed softly at Callan and leapt to Fionna's shoulder, being careful to not use his talons, then nibbled gently at her ear, ignoring Callan entirely.
"Pah...traitor..." Callan snorted at Dante', then put his knife back in its sheath at his boot.
"Would either of you care to sit? I believe there are chairs a-plenty around this table and the company is rather easy on the eye." Callan waved a hand at the vacant chairs and the two ladies with him, then picked up his ale and took a drink, watching the two elves and the one behind them over the rim of his tankard.
Galain had nodded, somewhat mollified by Callan’s assessment of Glory. He was more than aware of Callan’s continued needling of both Tay and Agaru though and slipped a hand into Tay’s.
“Sure, we’ll sit,” the elf replied, Dante’s hisses catching his attention for a moment. He nodded to Fionna and Laura and flipped his boa a bit, just a casual flick as if to soothe his own ruffled temper. He pulled a chair out for Tay, sat down, drew the ridiculous feather contraption off himself at last, and never once stopped eyeing Callan back.
An'Thaya gave Galain's hand a squeeze, cast a look at Shadow, who had been silent thus far, then slid gracefully into the chair her husband pulled out for her. She eyed the wareagle with interest before turning her gaze on Callan again. "Yes, I'm Y'Roden's sister, and yes, I know Mira. I was just unaware of her... parentage."
Agaruloki, the dragon inside suddenly snapped, leaving An'Thaya blinking in surprise for a moment.
Fionna brushed gentle fingers over the feathers of the bird now perched on her shoulder. Her blue gaze had watched the exchange thoughtfully, aware on some level that she was missing part of the conversation. She noted the fact that Callan had met her step-father and Glory before, filing it away for future reference.
"Yes, please join us" the half-elf said quietly. "Laura and I were just expressing our opinion to Callan here that if he wished to know anything about Mira and her current life that he would be better off asking her than anyone else. Gossip can be so inaccurate sometimes after all."
"Such an intelligent opinion too," Galain said, giving Fionna smile. He left his boot and just barely avoided the oil. He gave Callan a tight smile before he looked over toward his daughter and son, curious as to what they were talking about.
Fionna studied Galain and An'Thaya thoughtfully for a moment and then her gaze dropped to the floor, her attention caught by a sense of movement. Some sort of black oily goo was creeping along the floor beneath the table. As she watched it crawled over Callan's boot and began to spread up his ankle. Her fingers paused against Dante's feathers for a moment. "Um.. what is that?" she asked, indicating the sludge.
"How am I supposed to know?" Callan growled out, a faint spark of Rage lighting his eyes as he looked under the table at his now oil covered ankle and calf. "I expected one of you to know." Callan was finding himself spiraling rapidly in a full-blown Rage, and as best he could tell, for no apparent reason. This created a good amount of confusion in the dragon, something that added fuel to the fire.
The balance was beginning to shift in the favor of everyone else in the room...Callan was now the one off balance.
Fionna's eyes narrowed as she looked at Callan. He hadn't exactly been in a good mood before but this rage was sudden and unexpected. What could be the reason for it? She wondered. The goo?
"I've never seen the goo before" she said in a quiet, even tone. "But there have been an awful lot of odd happenings here over the last day or so. We've had goddesses and demonesses wreaking havoc, not to mention a minor drow invasion and a couple of dragons trying to set light to the place. With that amount of magic lurking around it could have been caused by just about anything." She looked at An'Thaya and Galain, "I don't suppose you know anything about any oil, do you?" she asked them.
"Well... it does look a little familiar..." Galain said and leaned under the table, plucking a strand of red hair out of the stuff. He flashed Tay a guilty look.
"I think it's the oil I used... and this is Ghet's hair... kinda fascinating..." He held up the hair thinking of what must have happened to cause this, oblivious to the rage Callan was feeling at the moment.
Tay stared at the strand of hair between Galain's fingers for a moment, then met his gaze. "Uhm, you'd better tell her so she can do something about it." The Amazon's gaze flickered to Callan, "Now...." She was thinking an enraged Black was going to be hell on the insurance.
Ooh, yummy! This one was tasty, and such a rich source. The oil took a positive glee in feeding Callan's own rage back to him, growing until it oozed up his legs and was still brushing against the others. Its colour grew darker and darker, the strands of red in it becoming paler and weaker. It was strong enough now that an odd thrumming could be heard, almost like a purr.
Galain nodded wordlessly, stood up abruptly and gave everyone a quick nod before he dashed up the stairs.
"Ghet! Gheeeet! Ghetsuhm!" He hollered as he ran, skidding wildly up the stairs which was quite a feat actually.
Tay had pulled her feet up onto her chair and she was pointedly growling... at the floor. Both Amazon and Dragon were in a mood now. One wrong move and Callan was going to meet the business end of a dagger.
Fionna snapped at An’Thaya, "will you stop that growling. It isn't helping any." Her blue eyes glowed with irritation.
It was unusual for the half-elf to lose her temper but she was her mother's daughter and she had never looked more like her. In the back of her mind the little voice of rationality was screaming that this was not a normal sort of mood.
It was possible Ghet had never been this embarrassed in her life. Though only because she didn't really do embarrassed. But to have your powers get away on you in such an obvious, public way...
"Good grief, that thing's enormous! How'd it get that big?" She crouched down for a closer look. Instinctively, the oil drew away from her. She grimaced. Everyone here was very cross, and she didn't blame them. "Hey little guy," she said in a gentle voice, releasing a little gift of peace at it. "Come out here where I can see you properly."
The oil hissed, and spat at her. She backed away and stood up, wiping her face. "Okay, have we tried, say, dousing it with dishwashing liquid? Diluting it? Nice legs there, by the way," she told Callan. "If we can break it up, the emotion should just disperse naturally." Also, if that worked she wouldn't have to stuff herself over fighting it.
"You are this thing's...creator?" Callan stood and looked at the second redhead, his palms flat on the table, his own eyes fully a-glow. His emotions were running completely out of kilter, the silver in him was trying to calm him and the black in him was begging him to call out the crimson and teach her some respect.
"Watch who you're growling at...red." Callan's dragon voice snarled. He'd remained under control until now...the black was starting to win out...
Dante' struggled to maintain balance on the blonde's shoulder, and finally gave up. It couldn't be done without digging into her clothes, and his talons would slice through her flesh. With a nervous squawk, the war-bird hopped from her shoulder to the table, his head swiveling from one person to the other.
Fionna placed a hand on the back of her chair, her knuckles whitening as the still slightly sane part of her personality tried to stop her hitting someone around the head with it. What in the world was wrong with her? She never lost her temper like this.
"What the hell is that thing, Ghet?" she demanded.
Tay always tread a fine line where her temper was concerned, and Agaru was just plain nasty no matter how you looked at it. It was impossible to tell who was responsible for the resulting chaos, but the Amazon launched herself right over the table and onto Callan's chest, knocking the surprised Black onto his back and digging her fingers into his hair. With a happily mad gleam in her eyes she slammed his head into the floor... repeatedly.
Respect? Sure.... She just had a funny way of showing it... apparently. On the bright side, the daggers had remained sheathed. She would have been terribly upset later... blood is really tough to get off the floor.
An’Thaya hit Callan and the pair went crashing to the floor, knocking chairs and tables flying. Knocked off her feet, Fionna lay winded for a moment and then bounced up again. Her blue eyes gleamed with an unusual anger as the final thread holding her temper in check snapped. "I asked you to stop doing that" she growled, picked up a chair and smacked the amazon over the back of the head with it.
Ok, Tay happened to be a rather tiny little thing despite it all, so a chair to the back of the head more or less did her in. In fact, she was bloody lucky it didn't kill her. The Amazon's eyes rolled back in her head and she simply dropped.
Well, even unconscious there was a danger of killing Callan, by asphyxiation if nothing else. Nice landing!
With a snarl of rage, Callan pulled himself off the floor, one arm wrapped around the amazon's waist, a limp doll in his embrace, his wings spreading wide. The irritating oil was now slung all over every one in the room and he was caught somewhere between his dragon form and his Elven form as he stood, glowering at the enraged Fionna.
"GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF...WOMAN!" Callan thundered, his scale covered arms shifting rapidly back and forth form skin to scales, his pupils becoming mere reptilian slits, then appearing normal once again. The Silver was still trying to claw its way to the surface, calming Callan enough to not set fire to the whole building. "What in the name of all hells is that stuff?"
"Do you live yet, crimson? I'm not finished with you..."
The blonde half-elf had been regarded An'Thaya with something like horror on her face but Callan's bellow made her head snap up, her blue eyes blazing. "You're a fine one to talk" Fionna retorted sharply, "you don't look that much in control yourself." Gods... what was wrong with her?
Galain was more than prepared to give Ghetsuhm strength and to do whatever she needed him to do. He was more than a little anxious now.
And then Tay had snapped and now Galain stared in horror at the limp form of his wife being held by Callan. He shot Fionna a wild-eyed look and then eyed Callan again. Behind him he felt Mak stand up.
"Hand me An'Thaya. Right now." Galain said quietly. "And then let Ghetsuhm and me deal with the thing on the floor. It's going to be fine," he said. His voice sounded like it was very far away.
I'm fine, Agaru muttered in irritation. But she was trapped. With the Amazon unconscious there was nothing she could do, the room was far to small for a forty-five foot dragon to fit in, and Tay was quite dressed. Which made shifting a little difficult for two very distinct reasons.
An'Thaya was NOT going to be a happy girl when she woke up. But at the moment she looked terribly fragile, held as she was in the massive and alternately shifting Black's arms.
Callan glared at Fionna, "You think I'm not under control now, half-elf? Keep pushing me and you'll understand what I am like without such control."
He allowed himself a sigh of relief as Agaru spoke, then snarled at the golds who had stood before him, "You want her, come and get her gold." White heat danced off Callan's free hand, the DragonFire coming to life as he looked from An'Thaya to Galain.
"Well... its wood and bleach is rather strong. I bet all you need is a very strong detergent and a serious mop," Mak said thoughtfully.
And then he was on his feet the moment Tay attacked Callan and Fionna banged her over the head with a chair.
"Gods!" He gasped, his eyes gone wide.
Fionna shot an almost pleading glance at Mak and Shadow who seemed to be the only ones somehow separated from what was rapidly becoming insanity. She couldn't seem to stop herself from turning around and snapping back at Callan though. "You call that control? You don't look all that calm and collected to me."
Galain threw Ghetsuhm a helpless look of frustration before he returned his gaze to Callan.
"Of course I want her. She's my wife. put that stuff away," he said, pointing at the DragonFire," he replied shortly. He signaled to Mak who moved forward behind him though he had no clue what to do.
Maybe they'd rush him, do a tackle, wrestle Tay away and...
Yeah. Right.
"Just hand her over. It's fine. Ghet and I are here to take care of things and your idiocy is just making things worse," Galain spoke again. He really just wanted to jump the Black and beat him to a bloody dragon pulp, then eat him for dinner.
Fortunately Silverthorn was behind Ro on the stairs, on the not so bright side; Bran and Mira were in front of him. And... the stairs were still slippery. Having missed the oil incident completely the half-elf wasn't ready for it, and his feet went out from under him the second he hit the oil slick. With a yelp of surprise he barreled into the couple in front of him, the trio making a most ungraceful entrance into the taproom.
Apparently it was Ro's turn to be on top this time. He took a second to grin down at Mira, somehow still amused despite the tension in the room, then looked up to assess the situation.
Was that Callan? *blink* Why... did he have An'Thaya. Better question, why was An'Thaya unconscious?
Silverthorn muttered, having managed to descend the stairs somewhat more carefully. Given the way Ro was grinning at Mira she assumed he was all right although she couldn't say the same for her brother who was at the bottom of the heap.
Leaving the terrible trio for now she moved cautiously into the room, jade green eyes quickly assessing the situation. "Suilad" she said quietly. "Please excuse the rather dramatic entrance." She walked closer to the source of the trouble, her expression neutral. "Fionna what were you intending to do with the chair?"
Fionna glared at Silverthorn, her annoyance made even greater by the cool unconcern on the other woman's face. "What is it to you? In fact what the hell is anything ever to do with you? " Her fingers tightened on the item of furniture.
Years of anger boiled over suddenly "Whenever my life goes to blazes I can guarantee you'll be there, can't I? In fact its normally you're fault. It's always you're fault." The chair suddenly flew through the air towards Silverthorn's head.
Bran lay winded on the floor of the taproom. "Note to self, next time watch out for oil on stairs and insane brothers-in-law" he muttered. After a moment he said, "if it's not too much trouble could you both stop sitting on me? I would appreciate it."
Galain flew toward the chair that was flying toward Silverthorn and took the force of the thing full in the face. He grappled with it, then tossed it to the ground, wondering why he'd done that before he stalked toward Callan and stopped just short of him.
"Knock it off. Hand over my wife, put away the fire and be a good draggie."
More peace would be good about this point.
It was terribly dark, and her head felt like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into it. The Amazon whimpered a small sound that was barely audible. Someone, or something, was holding onto her, the grip strong, yet not painful ... but somehow not familiar. "Galain?" the word was a whisper, and her head throbbed with even that little an effort.
Why was she always getting hit on the head?
Ah look, Agaru rumbled, Sleeping beauty awakens.
With a hard shove to Ro, Mira growled out, "Gerroff! Ya big..." Mira untangled her self and dragged her feet under her, and managed to help Bran up at the same time. With a silent look to both him and Ro, Mira turned her back on them and slipped up beside Galain. Gods! It was a bad day when she found Galain to be a welcome sight.
"Put her down, now Callan." Mira growled out, her voice raspy and her eyes burning with green flame as she eyed her sire, "Is An'Thaya okay? Did he hurt you?" She asked Argaru, then shifted her eyes to her father. Unlike Galain, Mira wouldn't hesitate in taking him down, she only hoped she would live through it if she had to.
Galain was supremely glad Mira had slipped up beside him. He'd been eyeing that DragonFire and was just then thinking of striking out against Callan when Mira made her demand as well.
Despite it all he gave her a broad grin.
"You tell him. He's really being a petulant little brat."
Now there's a word one doesn't use every day.
Callan lowered An'Thaya gently to the ground, his eyes flickering in the direction of the stairs and lingered on D'Riel for a moment, then traveled to the fair-haired elf standing next to him. For an instant his eyes locked onto the jade eyes of the elf, then fell on his daughter.
"So which one of these is it? D'Riel, or that one? You smell of that one," Callan tossed his head at Bran, "Yet your soul has been mixed with that one." Callan looked at D'Riel, "Are you bonded to him?"
Mira stepped forward one more step, growling low. "I'm not even going to answer that. My life is nothing of your concern, you made certain of that years ago." Mira's voice took on a cold tone as she stepped even closer, her booted foot getting near a puddle of sludge. "Get away from her. I don't know what you've done, but so help me..." Mira's own fingertips shimmered in a wave of heat as she looked from An'Thaya to Callan.
"Me? I did nothing to her. It was that one, the one that calls herself your friend, the one who threw the chair at the one who is apparently her mother."
Mira didn't let her surprise show, Fionna was always so calm, and she doubted there was much truth to Callan's statement, of course, Fionna had thrown the chair, Mira had seen that and had heard her words to Silverthorn. Perhaps Callan wasn't the liar she took him to be....
Callan shot the elf at the stairs a smile, then looked at Mira, his gaze leveling on hers. "So, elf, the woman is easy to like, but the dragon she is...that's a little tough to take isn't it." Callan's head tilted as he watched his daughter, then took a step back from An'Thaya. "Tell me, has her Rage been turned on you yet?"
Oh good, he was invisible now. Galain took advantage of Callan's taunting remarks to Bran and Mira to edge in, kneel down and scoop Tay up to himself. Then he moved swiftly away and handed her over to Mak who easily held the Amazon's petite form.
"Take care of her," he told his son and daughter before he slipped back to Ghet's side.
It was hard to concentrate one what was being said, voices were hazy, distant. The Amazon was aware of Galain though, her tattoo burning when the Elen lifted her into his arms. She murmured something unintelligible, then found herself cradled in her youngest son’s arms.
Now there was a switch of parental roles.
Agaru just rumbled in amusement, watching the scene play out with mild interest.
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