Same as It Ever Was (Part 13)

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+26: (20)+26: 46

The sound of a sword clattering to the ground is like sweet music to the ears of a rogue. There is a flicker of shadow beneath the table, then a dramatic woosh of a table cloth, and then a hand snatches out, grabs the sword and takes it away again unto the depths beneath the table.

What follows is a chaotic series of exclamations from those around the table. One woman screams in alarm. A man jolts his chair backwards so far that he tips himself over and lands, caterwauling onto the floor in all his finery. Yet another woman gasps, then flushes as she seems to hold her dress down, murmuring a quick: "Oh my."

A few others at the opposite end of the table seem alarmed, uncertain why their counterparts are having such reactions. A few start peeking under the table, or backing away from it slowly. One of whom trips over his own feat, discovering that his shoelaces are tied together. When did that happen?

GAME: Aryia rolls punch: aliased to weapon0+2: (13)+29+2: 44
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (10)+6+2+1: 19
GAME: Aryia rolls 1d6+1: (1)+1: 2
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (16)+10: 26

Yiara is staring at Aryia as she speaks, peering up at her from the ground. Her silver eyes are in complete and utter disbelief. Then her fists shake in fury, her mouth clenching tightly at the teeth as she rises back up. "I will _never_ accept charity from one of my lessers--"

GAME: Telamon rolls craft/alchemy: (9)+21: 30

While the others distract and cause mischief, Aryia is solely focused on offering a hand down to her alter self. A self she would most certainly have hated becoming, but it is still a teeny, tiny part of her that she had to accept. Nurture over nature truly on display. Doubly so emboldened as Harkashan keeps astride with her.

Then Yiara briskly rises with ire.

The outstretched hand briskly grasps Yiara's jaw. "Then accept it from your equals," she signs quickly before there's a horrid cracking sound of a fist impacting against a face, right on the temple. Aryia releases the mul. <Handspeech/Tongues>

GAME: Telamon rolls perform/oratory: (13)+24: 37

While Aryia is administering a reality check not seen since Daeus backhanded Maugrim out of the heavens, Telamon casually walks over to the table. Smoothly, the half-elf scoops up a glass of wine, inspecting it. "Hm. A fey vintage. I am pretty sure I think I saw the recipe for something like this in my tome on libations." He sniffs at it, and his eyebrows rise. Giving Alud'rigan a sly smile, Telamon recites:

"The wine of Love is music, And the feast of Love is song. And when Love sits down to the banquet, Love sits long.

Sits long and ariseth drunken, But not with the feast and the wine, He reeleth with his own heart, That great rich Vine."

And with that, he takes a sip from the glass, before raising it to Telanmo and Nala. "Your health, my lord and lady."

The Goblin's expression shows a growing concern, and she watches the thrown hands and gang signs with interest. She is momentarily distracted as people begin to make noises of surprise, and tsks at the man who simply sprawls himself onto the floor.

The exchange between the two Mul'neissa has Simony's attention again, and she visibly flinches at the crack of fist-to-jaw action.

"Goodness me, she's no glass jaw. That had to hurt.", she mutters quietly.

She takes in Telamon's poetry, and claps politely, making her way to his side. "How is it?", she wonders. "The wine?"

Zeke council's Nala again, his voice low. "You may not have wisshed this fight, but it isss being fought on your behalf. What you sssay now, do now, isss written for all time. Thisss one asssksss you, what would you like to do, what do you *want* to do? What are you *brave* enough to do?" He does not know the end of this story, but he knows that Nala must write it.

Harkashan simply... moves. He doesn't speak any further. He dispassionately watches as the far-too-overconfident Yiara is immediately humbled. Humbled, in the physical sense, but seems to not be wise enough to see her immediate defeat at a more skilled opponent.

He's quite certain that Aryia's fists would at least somewhat alleviate that problem and do some... correcting of world-vision.

Telanmo grins at Telamon, and he even pats the arm that Nala's holding onto him with, which elicits a rather goofy, but very happy, grin from Nala. But the girl blinks as Zeke addresses her again, as though she didn't think he might speak to her again. "Oh..."

She looks at Yiara for a moment. She says softly, "I wish you'd be the better person I know you can be... Because she's standing in front of you. The best version of you that could ever be. Not... What you are now. A villain who hurts people and oppresses the weak."

A soft and gentle light begins to shimmer around Yiara.

Aryia side glances to Telamon as he recites a gushy poem of love and fun. A bit much for her, but, he had a really, really good point. She turns back to Yiara, finding her shimmering. Hmm.

With little thought, she grabs the Taaran fencer by the elbow, yanking the staggering Mul'neissa over and dumping them in a chair that was recently vacated from the shadow shenanigans. Finding an unopened wine bottle, she clangs it on the table between them, throws herself into a chair, and reaches towards Yiara.

She flicks her on the forehead.

"Three. I win. Are you satisfied now? Quit being a prissy bitch and drink up, your double stitched hem is missing a spot," she signs and points before chopping the cork off with a rocketing >pop!< <Handspeech/Tongues>

The forehead flick is the stone that skips across the water and then sinks into the pond, creating a larger ripple for disappearing under the liquid surface. Tears run down from Yiara's eyes. Her body trembles as she seems to regain her faculties from her paralysis, and then...

The light overtakes her. It glows from within her, consuming her form. She's bright to the eyes, like she's on fire and her body is being consumed in an inferno of one. Most people in the audience flinch and avert their eyes.

Yiara sobs.

"All I ever wanted was to be the best." Sob. "I did so many things. I hurt so many people. I praised a goddess whose teachings I began to doubt--maybe never believed in to begin with--and then..."

Aryia sees it first. There's lines where her own scars are on her own body, but on Yiara. One by one, every wound Aryia had ever taken since being sold into slavery appears on her form. Some heal completely and fade. But oh, all the others scar. And by the time it's done, she's holding her arms tightly around herself, and she opens her mouth to speak.

Except... she raises a hand instead. And she signs.

"I'm sorry." Yiara, now mirror of Aryia, her hair the same length and style as Aryia's, isn't glowing anymore. She's just herself. "I'm sorry. I admit defeat. And... I'm sorry. For all the things I said were in Taara's name, but really were for me." <Handspeech/Tongues>

Alud'rigan rises from his seat, and he claps. It's a slow clap that gains speed, one that's echoed by Aragos, and then the whole feast hall is clapping.

"Well done," Alud'rigan intones, smiling warmly. "Well done, indeed."

GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (13)+33: 46

Harkashan slowly looks towards where Zeke and Nala are, and then looks back to Aryia and Yiara. His spell already dropping from concentration as the young woman is pushed into the chair and a drink being offered.

But the change. The change makes something churn within his chest and makes his stomach squeeze. It is, by some means, the best answer here. To just rewrite a character as suddenly being able to see the errors of their way. To suddenly have all of this insight as they become someone else.

But is this the story they are meant to tell? He wonders to himself, would the Feathered Dragon learn from this? He's not certain. And his intensified bond with the Deathsinging God has something within him squirm.

He tries to consider it from another perspective. An acceleration of a story that would normally perhaps take months, if not years. It is all just a story.

Still, he doesn't speak, and instead starts looking around for where the heck Rune has gone off to!

Telamon watches serenely, as Yiara changes. While real change has to come from within, it doesn't mean it can't be nudged along... or in Nala's case, edited into the script. A faint smile hovers on his face, and he nods to Alud'rigan, before turning to Simony and patting her head.

"It's good, but it's strong," he cautions. "Don't knock back a full glass unless you plan to be sleeping it off later." Indeed, Tel's own glass is barely touched. "Still, a good vintage to toast a cute couple." And he winks at Telanmo and Nala encouragingly.

Watching Aryia's double become... *her* gives Zeke hope. Hope that his double in this world can in fact be saved in a similar fashion. Perhaps they will never come face-to-face with his double, but if they do... He doesn't know if he can fight the other. But he can try to heal him. Zeke murmurs a prayer to the Dragonfather, and nods to Nala. "You have an ansscessstor to greet." He reminds her gently, nodding toward Alud'rigan.

Despite the fact that it should be easy to find Rune, given that the shadowy form had very clearly come from, and escaped to, the mysterious land of the undertable, the moment Harkashan looks there, it is nothing but support posts and a line of feet of the guests.

Then, he gets a tap on the shoulder, "Looking for someone?" Rune asks, raising her brows. With the fight ended, the rogue has abandoned the shadows, but is still holding that sword. Given that it had come from that other version of Aryia, she offers it out to Telamon first. "Mind taking a look before I return this? Given what we just saw... I wouldn't want to hand it over and have it turn her back or something."

Rune clearly doesn't know magic.

Simony looks up as she's patted on the head, smiling at Telamon. "You mean, don't knock back a full glass unless I want to sleep my way to the world's end, hmm? I would be naturally wary of fae drinks, simply because you've introduced me to them already."

The Goblin looks to Aryia then, raising up a little fist, to offer a fist bump from across the room to the Mul'Neissa. She looks back to Telamon. "Uhm. So I've been thinking... and from what I've just witnessed is concerning. We uhm... we need to consider something. Yiara is, for all intents and purposes, now Aryia. What happens if we find the exact scenario that gives us Cor'Lana, and you, Tel? What does that make this world?"

"Ours?"

Surprise doesn't seem to accurately describe the face Aryia makes at seeing Yiara explode in light. Ever further so when she changes into basically herself, through her own squinting eyes. She lowers her arm, once shielding her sensitive eyes. "You're uh, forgiven," she signs back awkwardly. It was weird that it was basically her own self. "The Goddess abandoned me and my family long ago. And after that, everything I did was for me. But now, it's for me than just me. It's for those around me."

She looks back, spotting Simony and offering a fist bump back through the air back at her. A deep nod of thanks is thrown towards the party. The applause grows loud, and she awkwardly shifts in her chair before turning back to Yiara and patting her on the shoulder. And pours her a glass. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Nala blushes as Telamon calls her and her beloved a cute couple. Telanmo, for his part, gently pats Nala's arm in an affectionate way that Telamon has done many times with Cor'lana as they've walked arm-in-arm together in the Market District. Simony's question has Nala wrinkling her nose, and she shakes her head. "Nope," she says, looking at Simony with a smile. "This is my world. Not yours. I just... Well, I hoped that Yiara would become more like Aryia, because I didn't like Yiara very much."

She looks apologetically at Yiara, who just signs, "None taken," as she accepts the glass from Aryia. And then Yiara takes a deeeeep sip of her wine.

"I didn't expect that... Well, it'd actually make her more like Aryia." Nala frowns a little. "I should be careful with what I hope for, I think."

Then with Zeke's prompting, she looks at Alud'rigan and nods. She starts walking, and Telanmo walks with her, and they walk to the center of the hall together, where there's an awful lot of food that servants are hastily trying to clean up, lest any of it get onto Nala's dress.

Nala clears her throat. "It is my distinct pleasure to be received here today," she says, "and I would like to offer my appreciation to Yiara for providing me with the respect I am due as the princess of this Court. If it is of no trouble, I and my companions would like to stay here for some time."

"Not a problem at all, munchkin," Aragos says with a smile that's awfully warm (and especially odd to see, for those who have met Aragos in their world). Then he eyes Alud'rigan, and there's something accusatory in that glance. "Right?"

"You have the right of it, my dear," Alud'rigan says with a chuckle. "We brought you here for your own protection. It isn't safe to be in the mortal realm for you right now, what with that dreadful First and Last Sun looking for you. But here? I, or Aragos, will gladly skewer him without a second thought, and all we would return to the Summer Queen are half of the ashes, so that if she were to try and raise him... She would only receive half a son."

Alud'rigan lets that sentiment rest in the air before he says, "Eat, drink, and be merry! This is an evening for celebration. Once you've all had your fill, you will be escorted to your rooms for the evening."

Harkashan jumps just a bit when Rune's touch to his shoulder finally finds home. He mumbles at her, and then playfully taps his tail to her rump in answer. "Yes. I was looking for my beloved." He answers her. "And now I've found her."

He smiles to her for a moment. But she can probably see the same wear, tear, and restlessness that has formed in the past few 'months' in this realm still there in his eyes.

They are practically traveling with a fickle godling after all. One who just changed someone on a most severe level.

"Let's make merry." He then remarks after she's done checking in with Telamon, and goes to find himself a seat.

Telamon shakes his head at Simony. "Overthinking it. They -have- a 'Telamon and Cor'lana' already." He gestures to Telanmo and Nala with a smile. "I'm just here to nudge things along, and then I'll be out of their hair. They don't need me looking over their shoulders."

When Rune pops up next to him, the sorcerer actually double-takes before nodding, setting the glass down before carefully taking the blade and studying it. "Hmm. Powerful. Enchantments to strike true, and to draw blood. A dangerous tool, but nothing more than that."

Tel ponders, before ambling over to where Aryia and Yiara are starting to work on that bottle. Politely, he lays the blade down on the table next to Yiara. "This is yours, miss." That done, he ambles over back to Simony. "Come on, Simony. I can probably help you avoid any pitfalls at a fey banquet."

Zeke's version of 'eat, drink, and be merry' is a very small celebration indeed. He drinks only water, and very little of that, and eats nothing at all. Wary of the fae tricks with food and not trusting his senses to pick up on the differences that might exist. He can go a single night a bit hungry and a bit thirsty. He keeps to himself, but is companionable to those that interact with him, requesting his rooms early in the evening and going to sleep early.

Simony looks to Nala, taking in her explanation with a thoughtful expression. "What will become of the others, I do wonder.", she says softly. "I mean... look at their scars." The Goblin gestures to Aryia and Yiara. "The scars are exactly matching, Yiara is even mute now, well, mostly so, like Aryia is."

She pushes up her pince-nez on her nose, and glances to Telamon a moment. "Am I? How on earth could she know Aryia so well as to be able to wish Yiara to become her?"

The Gobbo blows an irritated huff out her nose, before her stomach suggests taking Telamon up on his buffet guide. "Okay!"

Rune's expression softens a little at Harkashan's words, her teasing smile shifting to a more genuine one. "Well, I am harder to find than most. A truly rare gem hidden in the shadows." She puts a finger to her lips as if such a thing were a well hidden secret.

Then, taking in his expression, her head cants slightly to the side. There is a quick flick of the eyes, perhaps adding Simony's words to her own mate's worry lines on his scaled brow. "Nothing to be done for it, tonight. I'm sure we'll figure it out as we go, we always do. Smart lot of friends we have." She motions lightly to the others.

When Telamon returns the sword, Rune decides to instead stay close to the others, not overindulging too much. Oh, and she most certainly is avoiding eye-contact with the blushing woman who she'd brushed past under the table, who is certainly trying to catch her eye.

Aryia does seem to harbor a bit of Harkashan's unease about the situation. Someone was just changed, almost down to their core. It was a constant nagging worry, but she did her best to diverge that she was speaking with Yiara, and not just a copy of herself.

And it is when Telamon hands the fencer back her blade that she sighs slightly in relief. "The best you isn't me. I was a really good fencer, but I can't stand the thought of holding something like that anymore. Get better than I am at it," she signs encouragingly(?).

She glances to Simony, then down to her own arms before looking back at Simony. "And that's where I'm hoping divergence lies- on the inside. Anyways. Let's down a couple of this, yes?" she asks of anyone around her, holding up the same kind of wine Telamon inspected earlier.

She starts to down the bottle.

This would prove to be a massive mistake later in the night, despite her table turning into the rowdiest one with a sloshed to the nines Aryia. <Handspeech/Tongues>

The group of 'advisors', if that is what Telamon, Simony, Harkashan, Rune, Aryia, and Zeke are, all make merry and feast in their own ways. So does the fae court. Thankfully, the fae courtiers are mostly interested in each other and Nala and Telanmo and Yiara than they are in the adventurers. But Nala and Telanmo get plenty of time together. As Nala drinks a bit of wine, she even gets a bit of courage, and she rises up on her tiptoes and gives Telanmo a kiss on the cheek, which is followed by Telanmo giving Nala a little peck on the lips. This leave Nala grinning like a fool the entire night.

Eventually, the party dies, and the monarch and his 'stolen celestial' (who doesn't, in fact, seem to be protesting his theft at all in any capacity) of a consort retire to their own chambers after wishing Nala, Telanmo, and everyone who hasn't already retired to their chambers yet a good night.

...

Sleep comes. So does dreaming. You're in the pool of water again, up to your waist, the cloudless sky above and mirrored in the water below. You want to remember. There is something you have forgotten. There is something that you gave up. There is something that should belong to you.

"Please remember." It's his voice again, the young boy with summer blue eyes, obsidian skin, and short black hair. He's holding his hands tightly in prayer, tears falling from his eyes. "Please remember. I'm so tired. I'm _so_ tired. Please, Father, you have to remember..."

You lift your hand. It's not your hand. It's a much older person's hand, Time worn on the skin, and yet glossy and shiny like the skin of a newborn. You feel your mouth open to speak.

"You have your assignment. Go, Zenith." The voice is not yours.

The boy opens his mouth to scream, to wail, to plead and beg, but then he disappears, and the silence is deafening.

...

And then the group awakens. Every room is of considerable size and with their own bathing chambers, but they spill out into a common room. Nala is already up by the time everyone else is, and she's sitting at the long table in the room with Telanmo brushing her hair dutifully, having already groomed himself. "Hi, everyone!" Nala says with a wide smile.

And then Yiara spills out of her own room. She eyes Aryia before giving her mirror an up-nod. "What's up?" she asks. <Handspeech/Tongues>

GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/religion: (2)+13: 15
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/religion: (9)+13: 22

It is an unhappy Goblin that appears for breakfast. Her facial expression shows evidence of tears, and the sort of tiredness one gains from not having slept much of the night. She is sullen, and not talkative. Simony offers Nala a little nod before climbing up into a chair, and curling up into a little ball.

Telamon arrives, looking suitably dressed and groomed as is his preference. There's subtle differences between himself and Telanmo -- a slightly different hairstyle, clothing cut in a different fashion. Small things, but they're there. His expression is bemused, brow furrowed in thought.

But when his gaze falls on Simony, the half-sil nods politely to Telanmo and Nala, before moving over to sit down next to Simony. Putting his hand on the goblin's shoulder gently. "Rough night?" he asks softly.

Aryia drags herself out of her designated bedroom, hair disheveled, in a shirt four sizes too large and a lance of pain stamped to her face. An onyx and marble rivulet encrusted hand glows, clutching the side of her head. She gives a mere wave of hello back to Yiara, pulling out a glowing black mass from the side of her head and crushing it. A sigh of relief escapes her. "Weird ass dreams and the worst hangover I've ever had in my life. The hell did I drink...?" <Handspeech/Tongues>

Unlike most nights, Rune doesn't awaken in a cold sweat, her heart pounding out of her chest, from nightmares she can barely remember. Despite the worrying nature of their shared dreams, it is almost a sweet relief, as confusing as the images may be.

When Rune steps out, it is with a yawn and a big stretch of one arm over her head, her hair sticking up in all directions, looking as if she were strick by electricity. It's a sight most would be somewhat used to by now, as she never quite looks fully collected in the morning.

"Probably best not to ask." She replies to Aryia, but her attention shifts briefly to Simony, "Everything alright over there?"

Zeke is not looking much better than Simony this morning in fact. He sighs as he enters the room and his tail thrashes unhappily. He sits down in one of the few seats that is comfortable for his tail and his tail continues to flicker back and forth with displeasure as he rubs his temple with his claws. "Thisss one would give much to have even a moment with Cuemoni thisss morning."

It would have soothed him at least a little to have woken up beside his beloved, but no. There is little enough sleep. No tea. No food. No, it has not been the best of mornings.

"It would ssseem that the dream wasss ssshared amongsssst usss all then." He says astutely. If somewhat belatedly. He rubs his temple a little more firmly.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive+2: (2)+34+2: 38
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive+2: (18)+34+2: 54

Nala blinks a little as she looks at the group. Her pretty white hair is pulled back into a lovely silver clip that Telanmo seemed to just have with him, probably intended for his own accessorizing, and Telanmo looks quite proud of himself, although he shares the look of confusion on his face just a moment after as Nala says, "Weird dreams? I had a really..."

Then she blushes. "Err, nope, I had a very normal dream. Super normal. Really normal. Yup."

"I dreamed about the stars," Telanmo says. "A white raven in flight among the stars." He looks down at Nala, and his heart's in his eyes, like it is with young lovers who have fallen for each other.

Yiara signs, "Weird. Anyway--"

Then a knock comes at the door. Nala blinks again. "Can someone go get that?" she asks. Mostly because she starts looking up at Telanmo and they're just making lovestruck expressions at each other.

Dreams within the Dreaming of a dead realm. Giving vision from the perspective of what is clearly ######. The one whose name he's come to recognize all too well. To see through the eyes of a God isn't something he's particularly familiar with. Though it would appear that even this world's Thirku shares a mild bemusement at the idea of Harkashan seeing the world from another's viewpoint - along with a sense of greed at such a memory.

He knows very well, the state that poor little Zenith is truly in now. And as he rises alongside Rune, noting the 'relaxed' manner in which she'd awoken, he can tell that he had shared this dream with others this night.

Once fully dressed, with the aid of Rune - during which he was uncharacteristically quiet even in his usual rumbling sounds - Harkashan is out and about with the rest of them. Hearing Nala call out, he raises his brow for a moment, then glances down the hall.

The dream had served as a reminder of why they are here. And to him, it has only sharpened his insight into ######'s mind.

"Aryia... Yiara, can you recall the sensations you felt last night still?" He inquires with the two of them. "Do you feel they were... impactful? Etched into your hearts?" Ignoring the knocking on the door for now.

Aryia brushes her hair with her fingers, making a face of 'fair point' to Rune before glancing at Harkashan briefly and nodding to Zeke. "Seems so. Felt like I gave up something that I need back? Or... should belong to me?"

She pointedly ignores the star crossed lovers, attention nabbed from the knocking at the door. The mute sighs, ambling over towards the door. But she doesn't answer it. She physically can't ask who's there. <Handspeech/Tongues>

GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/religion: (13)+16: 29

The little hand that rises up shakes, and it grabs at Telamon's shirt, the flesh bulging a little as she invokes that mote of her God's strength. She looks to Rune, and back to Telamon.

"We need to change course. If Zenith changes into Pothy, then Zenith will be gone. For good. If we are trying to save this world, to make Navos feel compassion, we can't do it if we ... overwrite all the people who reside here."

Simony nods to Zeke then. "Yes. As we shared the dream which caused us to go on this quest, so we shared the dream last night. It makes sense. But... I just can't get his eyes out of my head. There's a deeper meaning... I hope it is not any of the scenarios that have run through my head the past few hours. But I dread that at least one of them is correct."

Her hand releases Telamon, and she shudders. "It was him. Navos. That's who we were dreaming as. I could hardly bear it, the yearning makes me ache. If Zenith goes, I fear all will be lost."

Telamon listens to Simony, his expression becoming concerned. "I don't... how do we do that, though? We can only bring what we know, have seen, lived, to the table. The observer affects the observed, regardless." He runs a hand through his hair. "I keep feeling like the saying father told me once: when you're fighting the alligators, it's hard to remember you're trying to get out of the swamp."

He gives Simony's hand a squeeze, reassuring, before he gets up to answer the door. Aryia's there, of course, but she has certain... limitations. He offers the monk a wry smile, as he asks politely through the door, "May I ask who is calling on us?"

Rune's mouth opens ever so slightly, as if she were about to say something in regards to Nala's dreams, but then a look of realization passes on her face and the rogue decides it is best not speak those thoughts aloud. "Right..." Instead, she lets out a small sigh, "Still, I'll take crytpic dreams over nightmares any day." With an incline of her head to Aryia, she seems to confirm that her own dreams went along the same lines.

Of course, her feelings on that matter may very well change once she sees the way that the dream has impacted Simony. "That can happen?" The idea of Zenith and Pothy merging just seems like a foreign concept to her. "I mean, I'm no expert on the Gods. I'm just flying blind along with everyone else. If you have insights on what else we can do, I'm all up for hearing it."

With Telamon moving towards the door, Rune follows a step or two behind, like a small, stabby body-guard. She leaves the questioning to him, but she does watch the door, curiously.

Zeke doesn't know what to say to Simony, or really to anyone at all. So he sits silently in his spot and keeps his thoughts for the moment to himself. Considering the tint of Simony's words, it might be for the best that his own remain unspoken for the moment. One need not add problem to problem after all, and he had not asked Nala to turn Aryia's double into her after all. That had been her choice. Some days one can not win for losing.

It's at that moment that there's a familiar sound of talons tapping on the floor. Zenith trods out of Nala's room, and he eyes Simony with those summer blue eyes of his. "Rather off-base theory you have there. I won't be turning into my brother any time soon," he says. "His attachment to all things gourmand disgusts and disturbs me. That being said..."

He eyes Nala for a moment and says, "If you're going to have Telanmo spend the night so you can snog him, can you at least not do it *right* in my ear?"

Nala turns beet-red as she says, "It was _not_ in your EAR! Er..." She clamps her face into her hands as she lets out a little sound not dissimilar to a teakettle singing. Telanmo chuckles a little and rubs her shoulder gently, before he gives Zenith a look that quietly reads, 'Do _not_'.

Yiara blinks at Harkashan's question. "Well, I can't speak anymore, and I'm less of an turd laughing and prancing around like I've got a jewel-encrusted asshole. And... I got a whole lot of regret. Does that count?" <Handspeech/Tongues>

A voice calls from the other side. "I am merely a servant sent by His Majesty the King and His Majesty the Consort. They would like to share a private breakfast repast with Princess Nala, her beloved, and her friends in half an hour from now. When you are ready, please step out of the room and ask for any one of us to lead you."

"We'll be there!" Nala calls out, and that leads to the sound of footsteps away from the door. She grins at the whole group. "A royal breakfast! Just like the stories. I can't wait!"

Harkashan makes for a low nod to Aryia, before glancing at Simony who seems to have their own worrisome theories. Though Harkashan isn't too worried about destroying the sanctity of what is basically a 'dream'. More what lessons are learned from it.

When Zenith luckily steps in to calm those emotions, he rumbles; "Excellent, you are here. Can you and Simony aid these two in sharing their memories of that moment, and Gift them to Navos?" He inquires with the birdboy.

"It is but one memory. But it's something. There is more to come. Unless you believe it were better to share all we can share in one go."

"We shall be ready within the half-hour, sir," Telamon replies through the door, before turning to look at the others -- and Zenith.

"It did seem a little far-fetched, but worth keeping an eye on. Still..." He rubs his chin. "There will always be differences. And similarities." He cannot keep a grin off his face as he looks to Nala and Telanmo. "Would it surprise you that my wife's familiar had the same complaint?"

His eyes twinkle with stars, merry, as he continues, "A private royal breakfast, Nala. So you won't have to worry about eating in front of a hundred people. Just with Grandfather, and..." He pauses. "You know, it just now hit me. That was Aragos. By the bottomless depths of the dream, this world is -weird-."

Rune can't help but wince in sympathy to Zenith's plight of having to share a room with two young people in love. Especially when one of those people happens to be someone akin to your own sibling. "If you ever need a break from the... festivities, you can always find a quiet place to sleep in someone else's room." She offers, though she already knows that his loyalty and his loss may mean that Zenith doesn't feel comfortable doing so.

And then, they are being invited to breakfast. "Great... I have to go get presentable." Rune runs a hand through her unkempt hair. "I suppose it was too much to ask to lounge around in sleep clothes all morning." Not a morning person, this one.

Then, with a beat of hesitation, she looks to Telamon, "Who is Aragos?"

Simony just smiles sadly at Zenith. "Is it, though? Don't you find it ... odd that Yiara has basically become Aryia? Nala wished for something... and Yiara has now experienced everything Aryia experienced. And got the same scars." The Goblin inhales and exhales.

"What if Nala were to wish you were more like Pothy? Not that she is going to, but, think about that."

She blinks at Harkashan, and nods slowly. "I will do what I can... I uhm... I don't have any clerical blessings that aid in that."

Her ears perk up at the invitation through the door, and she lets out a lengthy sigh. "A royal breakfast..."

The idea of converging everyone and accidently wiping them from existence makes Aryia give a large sigh. "I guess we'll just have to keep that in mind with whatever Nala does." Else everyone will be replaced with Telanmo. Then Nala will probably die, and we don't need that.

She shakes her head, glancing to Yiara's signing before rubbing her neck. "Careful if you laugh, you'll cough up blood," she warns her alter self. "Yeah, it's odd for me, but it's what it is.

Oh shit, breakfast! That'd help with this hell hangover! "Shit I got to get ready too, I stole someone's shirt and I have no idea who's it is." She jogs off towards her room. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Zeke for one doesn't look terribly excited at the prospect of a royal fae breakfast invitation. Still, he clamors to his feet ungracefully and nods. "Thisss one will get ready." Not that he actually has a lot to do, but it doesn't hurt to be extra prepared and it's times like this that he almost wishes that he knew enough magic to clean his own vestments... Thankfully there's an attached bath to his room and plenty of time.

-End