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A New Beggining

It had been a long night. It had been a long day.

The Gears and Soldiers had came upon the Highlane District, in flames, rain had begun to fall. The fight raged for a whole night, and for most of the following day. When it was over... its heroes had been upheld.

The Parishioner was dead.
Ecstasy with him.
The Eidolon destroyed, almost nothing left.
Jordiar's corpse stood above the Industrial District, a mark of victory.
The Thorns of Carmine decimated by the assassins and forces of the Boil.
Shadow Rose dead.
Kodak destroyed.
The Sheriff imprisioned.

Victory had been great, but now, the flames died out, and ashes filled the air... the ashes of most of the Boil. The Gears and others had escorted its heroes - its Exalted - drained and tired, to the Manse of the Marina family, a god-blooded family of immense wealth who owned a small Manse in Highlane and many factories in the Industrial District( as well as at least one Brothel, as an open secret), and were all murdered by the Parishioner to claim their Manse. Earth-Aspected, it lend a sense of relaxation and stability to them.... on the night after the victory.

The day after, the night of the great victory two nights past, the Exalted wake up... to the call of a god, the call of Iron Tears, in the large living room of the Manse.

It was a new day, time to plan for the future. To take the pieces and see what to make them into, now.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: Burn and break and smash, was it all that dwelt on the surface knew to do?

Opal chided herself for her own foul mood. This was supposed to be a day of days, and one should not look to the inevitable rebuilding projects that would need to be undertaken to recoup from such a bittersweet victory. The dead would need to be gathered, lest their angry spirits rise up from their bodies to reep a vengence upon the living that dishonored them. Her mind spun with all the myrad things a city after such a battle would need to do to recover... but she forced its stillness.

She rose from her bed, and donned her robes with careless efficiency, and with a mere sweeping brush of her alabaster locks, caused the riot of her hair to fall back into its eternal, artful waterfal down her back. Even if Iron Tears had not specifically called her, she would go. After all, it would be uncooth not to. She produced herself from her chambers, and murmered softly, "The duration is always longer than the war."

Child of Wyld Days: The Child is already within the living room, apparently working some odd raksha miracle. While the slash on her neck still looks a tad raw considering that it's mostly-healed, that's only the least odd thing about the Child right now. Sitting on the ground, cross-legged and apparently concentrating, her form is... unraveling. Partially, anyway. Strips of flesh, like fluttering tissue, pull away and reattach, the Snow Monkey quite busy reestablishing her shaped form. It should be noted that a few of the wayward strands fall away, only to piff away into nothing a moment later, crushed by the unfeeling, structured reality of Creation.

While this re-assumption occurs, a light wind dances and swirls around her, drawn inward... almost as if the body rebuilding itself were swallowing the very element of Air itself. There is a pause... and her frame suddenly snaps back into its proper shape. Brass eyes open, brass body-markings ripple and shine, and the Child... stretches, almost like a cat.

"Ah! There we are... I was starting to feel a little stiff..."

Alexander: The Prince of Whiteshield walked into the living room, resplendent as always. The legendary blade rested over his shoulder, and it seemed to illuminate the room with sunlight. He smiled and nodded to those already gathered. "Good Morning, Iron Tears, Child of Wyld Days.... and you are Exceedingly Sublime Opal, are you not? I have heard much about you..."

Fiona: Fiona walks into the room after Alex, almost quietly. She smiles at the Child of Wyld Days and falls on one of the cushions, happier than most there had ever seen her. Alex was safe, they had won.... things were looking up. "Good Morning, everyone! Where is everyone else? And Moon, is he alright? I was drained and beat when I came last night, couldn't even check..."

Kanti: Kanti rises from her meditative position on the floor of the room she had been given, the bed unused and seeming strangely empty to her, without Fiona as it was. She dresses quickly in her robe of screams, brushing out her hair, and then descending down the stairs and into the large lounge.

She blinks at the sight of the fair folk girl on the carpet, eying her warrily.

Then her eyes fall on the golden prince, and she eyes him with nervousness too. He was far too pretty...though he did not feel .. wrong.

What are these people?
Why are there fae here?
Who is the strange boy?

She drops into a curtsey without asking such questions outloud.

"Good morning, Lord Iron Tears, Fiona, Opal." she says clearly into the room. "Good morning, guests of Lord Iron Tears."

Seventh Moon: At Fionas question, a hand lifted from behind the back of a near by sofa, half its fingers clasped tightly in a splint. With as much cheer as a straggled rasp could muster, the familiar voice of a certain Lunar croaked out. "m good, darlin"

Moon let his hand drop back to his chest, strength exhausted for the moment. Hed gotten there first, by virtue of having been there to begin with. They sort of had to have the meeting brought to him, since walking was a bit of trouble. Still, that gave him staking rights to turf. Moon had claimed the whole of plush red sofa for himself, stretching long legs off the edge on one side and propping his head up on the other, a clean white blanket thrown over him to keep the wound covered. Sofa gave a great view of the ceiling. Hed become something of a coinsure of those lately. Laying on his back was the only way to stop the gapping hole in his chest from hurting.

Moon never remembered who dragged his ass from the garden or when hed been brought here. He might have thanked him if he had known. The past few days for him had been darkness and strange dreams. Strange dreams, but his dreams. A cheerfully feral grin stretched across the Lunars face whenever he noted that to himself.

His kept his ears opened to what was being said, but saying much was difficult. Painful even. You knew you were in for shit when talking felt like someone was trying to gut you from the inside out. Still, hed wanted to be here. Hed been out of touch for a while now. After waking up to a flurry of white-robed Eir ladies fiddling with the gash in his chest, it was the first time hed seen anyone since the night at the estate. First time hed seen some of them in even longer...

Child of Wyld Days: She glances up at the faces at they enter, a lazy smile in place... and then she idly thinks back to her... extra-cirricular activities before she was called to the iron god. Ah, that girl... she was quite workable once the fear went away. I imagine she'll not be too much trouble now... Returning to her lazy observing, Snow Monkey blindly takes her weapon, using a nail to clean the little flecks of grime still trapped in the flexible staff. The two heads turn to each other... and begin to hiss and screech and bicker, almost like siblings.

"Tears, my good and capable god... tell me. How are you feeling?"

Iron Tears: Iron Tears says his greetings to each of them in turn, not like the Faceless God anymore. Now he looked like handsome older man late into his forties. Iron gray hair and eyes, with a neatly maintained beard and well groomed locks, he is broad shouldered and well muscled. Yet, he is not regal. Quite the opposite. He is dressed in the clothes of a simple day laborer and his face and his skin is covered with a light coating of coal dust as would be anyone who spent time working in the mines. A light pick-axe at his belt finishes the attire. "Hurt, Child of Wyld Days."

"And drained. The Boil has bled and burnt. And it is harder to mantain my form with prayer alone, now that my brother has destroyed my home."

Fiona: "Good Morning, Kanti!" Fiona says, jumping out of the couch, and picking Kanti's hand, bringing her to the prince. "Kanti, this is Alexander Holysword, crown prince of Whiteshield! I had told you of the Holyswords, remember? Those I stood behind to protect?"

"Don't be afraid. He is nice!"

Vorpal: "This is quite a city", says the Pale Angel, her words the first announcement of her quiet arrival into the hall. Her velvet cloak whispering on the floor, she moves forward soundlessly, her hair spilling onto her shoulders, a contrast of white against black as always. "It will survive."

Seventh Moon: Preach it brother.

Moon lost himself in the ceiling as Iron Tears spoke, trying to picture what was left of his city outside these walls. The way the god spoke, made it sound like there was just a bunch of black and broken buildings across the landscape, like teeth in a beggars gums. Wasn't a pretty image.

But a second voice and another word pulled him back out of the bleakness. A voice that was vaugely familiar speaking a word that meant a lot. Survive.

"We do that..." he rasped in answer to Vorpal. "Survive. Beats fuckin' dyin'."

Hidden behind his sofa-wall, Seventh Moon smiled a comforted grin.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: Opal eyed the young prince who greeted her with such graceless ease and politeness. She merely nodded her head toward him in the briefest of respects, for the Exalted were always to be respected. She glanced to the pale woman, before casting her oval eyed gaze toward Fiona.

"You are most adept at making friends, Fiona, so I shall trust your most astute judgement in such a matter." She effects a slight bow to the nod, glancing once more to the pale woman before looking toward Iron Tears. "Such works can be mended. Flesh and spirit are not so well sown as earth and metal, so it pleases me you are whole.

Looked to Moon, and smiled indulgently to him, "I see you've appropriated the most splended accomidations, but should you not have a glass of some vulgar beverage in hand to toast the day?"

Her gaze found Kanti's, and she gave her a look. A hidden look and a secret smile, a smile of sharing and connection.

And she studiously ignored Days, even going so far and to usher Fiona away from the Ape Fae.

Iron Tears: "My thanks, Pale Angel."

The men flanking Iron Tears - both captains of the Tigers of the Relentless Gears - nod to Vorpal's arrival. They recognized a military woman when they saw one. And Vorpal was well-known there now, if less than the other illustrious Abyssal. Iron Tears himself sighed and his eyes wandered, as if he could watch the whole city from far above as he did. "Much will have to be changed now, however. But we have shown them. We are made of Fire and Iron. We do not bend. And we break and burn all those who intend for us to."

Child of Wyld Days: She rises after a moment, weapon cleaned and wrapped around her waist. She cannot help but smirk at Opal's actions, shaking her head in mild amusement. "You can't dictate where she should and should not go... but I'll leave that for you two to discuss." That said, she approaches the Iron God, expression even and relaxed. "And... heh. I can only imagine. It is only a matter of cleaning out the remaining filth and rebuilding, yes? I can see you have quite the help around you, so that shan't be too difficult."

Kanti: Kanti looks around with concern at Moon's sofa, not sure if she dared look at the other side. She would have to try and do something for him, after the meeting.

Then Fiona took her hand and led her over to the sunlit boy of strange beauty. She smiled at him, not showing her inner trepidation. She drops into another curtsey infront of the prince.

"Good morning, Prince Alexander Holysword. Fiona spoke well of you."

She says as she rises gracefully.

She catches the strange look Opal gave her, returns it as is expected of her. She had not expected that from the jadeborn woman, but it was brightening. Then she saw the tall, pale woman, and she trembled as she stood.

another one...
what will she be like?
does she know the Dark Angel?
she seems so ... warlike

She dares not speak in greeting to her, yet.

Seventh Moon: Coughing a faint laugh at Opal, Moon managed to lift his hand above the sofa long enough to extend her the grace of a rude hand gesture. He hoped she'd appreciate the effort that went into conveying the sentiment.

Selina de Windia: Selina had slept alone, that night. After everything that had happened recently, she needed to. Needed to be away from everyone else. Ever since the Parishioner.

Ever since Black Avian.

She'd risen from her bed naked, nothing covering the multitude of scars on her body except for the sheets, her wings, and her long fall of pale blonde hair. And stood in front of the mirror, beholding those white scars criscrossing her body. There were one or two new ones, since Windia. Wounds didn't always heal so completely that the scars vanished. For some, there was never a trace left over. Not so for others like her. Selina ignored the raw, red one at her belly, cut in marks of old realm, a circle containing baleful writing.

This is not your victory.

It wasn't. Not her city. Not her people. Not her place. She had killed a deathknight, but he happened to come here and she would have hunted him down anyway. Selina was alien to the Boil.

It is Moon's victory.

I hope he is able to enjoy it.

But there are newcomers.

The image in the mirror narrows turquoise eyes back at her, as she finishes appraising her form. The thought echos in her head like shards of voice from long ago.

A predator. A fae. Another traitor in the making? A poacher in my ranks?

The Prince. The Pale Angel.

She didn't want to meet either of them, oddly. Vorpal less than Alexander. After Black Avian, it seemed...something had...died? Gone dormant? Been hurt? She didn't know. The desire was buried under something. The woman shrugs, dons her leotard, the boots and gloves that go with it. And her coat -- her elemental servitor had gotten it for her. He was waiting outside the door. The weapons as well -- she was a killer, and that was how she had contributed to the battle. Gowns would be for Windia. For dances. For when she claimed her own again.

As I will. She thought, moving out of where she'd slept, followed by her elemental. Walking quietly into the central room in which, apparently, everyone else was gathering. Keeping back, and saying nothing yet, but looking at them all.

And trying, at least, to not show how passe she felt about it all.

Alexander: "It is great meeting you, Kanti. I had heard much of you. Of the spear saint that had sent the dead away." He smiles, trying to restrain.. a little bit of the shock.

They did not say how you were so scarred however.
So consecrated to the Underworld...

He takes her hand, and kisses it, before going to Moon, placing a hand on the couch, as if it was his shoulder. "And I heard you went ahead and ate a ghostly dragon whole. That is all indigestion, Seventh Moon?" He says, light hearted.

Say it is.

Help me not think you are like this because I had the stupid idea of sending you and the Dark Angel alone into Whiteshield...

That it is not because we came too late.

Iron Tears: "He did more than that, young prince. He made the Boil rise."

"Fire and Iron rose due to his will. You owe this to him. We all do."

"He remembered us of our pride. He gave it back to the Boil. To Whiteshield, Alexander."

He smiles as Selina comes in... and there is something else there. Barely restrained. He inhales deeply before regarding her with words. "And now, our black-winged savior comes! The lady who helped sway me, the one who destroyed our darkest opressor. Good Morning, Dark Angel."

Vorpal: For all her military fame, it seems as if the Pale Angel isn't feeling like playing the part tonight. There is an unexpected sort of casualness in her manner, in the way she gives Iron Tears a little nod, and another to the captains. She does not say much to the other people in the hall - she does not know many of them in any case - merely allowing her eyes to wander over each one in a gesture of acknowledgement. She'd get to know them better later.

She falls back behind the others, ending up accidentally - or perhaps not - standing close to the Dark Angel, who had entered the room soundlessly.

"Oi", is her greetings to her black-winged counterpart.

Child of Wyld Days: Even while waiting for a reply, her ears twitch. Skin tightens for a second She instantly relaxes, but her Sword is more than happy to tell her than a fellow monster is near. Odd, thought.This is not the feel of raksha. This is different... another god? A dead thing? While still keeping her focus on the Iron God, she looks towards that direction, and for a moment, she locks eyes with the breathing shard of death staying away from the group proper. She smiles, gently, perhaps a smile of understanding. No introductions are neccessary.

That... that must be the Dark Angel I have heard of. Hehheh... my, she is more than what I have imagined. But is that merely an outer display, or is my Sword true in its feeling?

That done, she turns away... and makes her way to Fiona, Opal and Kanti---Fiona, mostly. Her smile widens, grows more honest. "Hail and well met, Sungirl! How fare you?"

Kanti: ...he does not like my scars.
...he is scared of them.

Kanti smiles warmly back at him as he kisses her hand. It had been so long since someone had greeted her so, and it brought back pleasant memories.

"Good morning, my lady." Kanti says to the dark winged woman, another elegant and perfect curtsey for her, then she turns to the approaching Fae girl, and fights the urge to step away from her, making herself smile.

Seventh Moon: Her foot steps. He knew them. Coming towards him, going away. Which ever, where ever. He knew them, much as he knew his own anymore. The smile faded on his face somewhat. Not in sadness, but it hurt like it. He wanted to see her, but he wasn't about to admit that. No call to pull her over or gesture to beckon her near. She'd come if she wanted, when she wanted.

And if his previous experiences with doing stupid things around women was any indication, he needed time to brace his face to be slapped.

He smiled instead as the prince asked him about the dragon, a big shit-eating-grin. The kind you gave to garrison fucks when you assured them it hadn't been you to peg a flag stone off their head. "Somethin' like it kid..." If indigestion could eat a fuckin' hole through your chest.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: With Fiona in hand, it left only Kanti. She steered Fiona close to Kanti, feeling it would do well to keep them in eachothers presence. She smiled softly at Kanti and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, with a gentle squeeze added in for effect. You are staring, she thought at the woman.

She looked over toward Selina as she walked in, and inclined her head to the Windian. "Madame," she squinted a little as she considered something.

When Days approaches, her eyes narrowed dangerously, and one could almost see furr standing on end. She begins to watch Days like some overprotective mother hawk.

Fiona: Taken closer to Kanti by Opal, Fiona entwines her arms in Kanti's as soon as she finishes the courtesy, and smiles to Days.

"Beat."

"It was a hell of a day. But I guess I ended up alright, we all did. Everyone who went to fight the Parishioner looked so bad off..." She says, her hand entwining with Kanti's and squeezing.

Child of Wyld Days: Her eyes widen a hair, probably unnoticed, as the sudden wash of conflicting emotions around her finally tease her palate. Hate, fear, worry, mocked kindness... genuine love. The latter was a rare treat, something she would have loved to savor on the tongue of her Cup-maw... but this was ally and Exalt. That would not, could not do. She would have to contain herself.

"So long as the end has been reached in a satisfactory manner, Fiona of the Sun. Although... who might this one be?" She beholds the scars, taking in thieir shape and configuration. Not the work of the caring or the sane... and a robe made from... no. No emotions. Something residual. Bah, lackluster craftsmanship.

Alexander: "Is that so? Then... I guess we were right of sending you and the Dark Angel here." He smiles down at Moon, walking around the couch, and towards his Pale paramour. As he passed, his hand went down and touched Moon's shoulder. The thanks and trust were implicit on it. As was rememberance, at least for the prince.

He had sent Moon to war once. He had trusted him. They had fought together. And he had never let the Zenith down. He kept walking, closer to Vorpal as he turned to Iron Tears, "So, we are all here?"

Fiona: "This is Kanti! She is a Crimson Dragoness!" She stops, bringing a finger to her lips, "Oh, wait, that was obvious, wasn't it? She is very nice, Days. Saintly, even! Kanti, that is the Child of Wyld Days! She fought with Iron Tears against his evil brother... she was the one who warned Iria and the others of the trap on Highlane, who had the cavalry come! Don't be fooled, she is nothing like Rain!"

Kanti: Kanti took Fiona's hand gratefully, glad of the anchor in the room with faaar too many abyssals and fae contained within, the one fair folk lady so very close ... and looking her over.

Fear.
Curiousity.
Reluctance.

I wish Fiona would glow. The sunlight would be sooo nice.

"Greetings, Child of Wyld Days." her voice filled with warmth, despite her inner worry. She smiles at the fairly, and squeezes Fiona's hand a little.

Seventh Moon: Moon's head craned back to look up at the prince as he passed. It was... a moment. He didn't have a lot of those, but this was one. Watching the silvery figure glide past him. Glide beyond him, in every way that could be thought. Something had changed. He barely remembered his first meeting with the prince, but... something had changed. He didn't seem so small anymore. So delicate as Moon remembered him

Like someone who mattered themselves as they did to others. Like someone who wasnt just a symbol.

Before Alex could pull his hand away, Moons finger suddenly clamped down over them. His grip was tight. The look in the Lunars eyes was intense, blazing, and even as he lay there half dead, the air still had strength to stir in silver around him. "We got the city back, didnt we? Dont fuckin forget that man. We got the city back."

Letting Alexs hand slip away, the Lunar looked from the beautiful little prince, back towards the ceiling again and sunk into his sofa with a sigh.

Selina de Windia: Swaying him. That seemed years ago, but it wasn't. After destroying that damned assassin of the dead, after sucking his memories into herself, it all seemed far too long ago. Still, she couldn't sour their mood too much. Selina nods in response to Iron Tears, and says a muffled 'Morning' to everyone in the room.

She meets the fae's eyes, not knowing exactly what to think of her. No two were alike. Rain could be as different from this one as the sun and moon. No, this one would be an enigma for now, but it was one that bore watching. Just in case.

Selina turns a flat gaze to Vorpal. "You missed most of the fun."

And I regret ever calling you here.

As Alex left Moon's side, coming for the Pale Angel's, Selina did the same, in the reverse. Had the boy bonded with the other deathknight that well over the time they'd been seperated?

She did wonder. Having returned Kanti's greeting, she let the little dragoness do her own thing for the time being.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She placed her other hand on Fiona's shoulder, though it was to keep her from bubbling over... as well as to secure herself that she was still alright with such a dangerous creature a few footsteps away. She continued to eye Days dangerously. If looks could kill, Days would have to do more than resew herself.

"All Fair Folk are the same in some ways, Fiona," she said, coldly. She kept her eyes steady on Days.

I could just do it. Right here. Slash a thread and pull, unleash a torrent. Unravel the lie of her existance. She looked to Selina then, and remembered. She looked back at Days, and resolved herself to merely watching her.

Vorpal: Shame, she responds to Selina with a mental shrug. She doesn't bother spending time wondering what has pissed the woman off this time.

Child of Wyld Days: She bows, deeply, with more than a fair amount of grace. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance!" She rights herself, folding her arms across her chest and looking square into the dragonling's eyes, blinking once or twice. "I am a fellow warrior, and it was... a grand, grand battle! Oh, I have not been in such a conflict in all my days! I must tell you all about it..." She pauses. "I must go home and share my tales as well.

Home... home. I will have to go back soon. My stores of dreams are low. She touches the curious lattice of near-clear gossamer strands on her right arm, feeling the warmth of the greenish, organic ciyst trapped within... and feeling her realm, her freehold in the back of her mind. "... but for now, I am here to stay."

Alexander: "We did." He says... hopefully. It warmed him. There was another thanking in those words.

But a personal one.
What Moon said... he had been a part of it, right?
They had won.

Thank you, Moon.

Kanti: Kanti could not meet the Raksha's gaze for long, looking down and away, across to the sofa where Moon was laying.

"I always like to hear stories." she says, not just a meaningless pleasantry, but not entirely sure she wants to spend more time with the fae either.

Iron Tears: "Yes, we are all here, Prince."

Iron Tears waves, and other servants appear. Not the Gears, but the girls of the House of Heavenly Pleasures now. They rush to make the refreshments and food to the assembled gods.

"And Fiona speaks true of the Child of Wyld Days. She warned Iria of the trap to the Dark Angel in Highlane, and allowed all of our forces to come on time. She warned me of my brother's coming, allowing us to prepare. You have done the impossible and single-handedly destroyed beings that far surpass me," He looks at Selina and Moon, "But the Child is partly responsible for your survival. I would like you to accept her into your fold."

"But, now that we are assembled, I would like us to plan for the future. Despite our victory... we have hard days ahead."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She leaned low, and whispered softly in Kanti's ear. "Come, let us see to Moon. I am concerned for him." With that, she gave Days a cool nod, and directed Fiona and Kanti to the plush couch Moon had been dumped upon. Once there, she half sat on an arm, and began to listen to Iron Tears, though his comment riled her.

Child of Wyld Days: "Mmmmm." The concern washed over her Cup, and she could not help but smile... while inwardly sighing. She is a smart one. She does not trust me from the start... and yet there's something else. Mayhaps those scars run deeper than flesh... "Perhaps one day I can tell you of myself. For now, business." She turns... and tries her hardest to not look like it made her intensely happy to hear Tears' words.

She wanted so, so badly to whoop it up, though. A smile and a nod would suffice.

Selina de Windia: This was more to the tune of what she wanted to talk about. Not pleasantries, but plans.

"I will." Selina says in a firm voice with a touch of the Void dwelling on the edges, sitting down next to Moon, the elemental going to stand at the other side as she lounges into the cushions. "So long as she doesn't snack on anyone, and things do not turn out as the...last time did. They are mine to ward, and I will not tolerate anyone harming them."

Seventh Moon: No shit, man...

Hard days, but at least they had days at all.

Moon waved off one of the serving girls who offered him a glass of something dark, expensive, and alcoholic looking. Eir ladies badgered him something awful about not drinking or eating anything they didnt check first.

Weight on the cushions near him made Moon lift his head... and smile at the Winlandia. She didn't seem happy, he could tell. Looked about as comfortable as she had their first night in the Boil, when he dragged her out with the gang to stir shit up a little. Be damned if he was going to let that stop him though.

He moved his leg and gently nudged Selina, stretching a hand up towards her.

Iron Tears: Iron Tears made a gesture. The man to his right, decked in the finest Iron Technology, a great gauntlet of iron in one hand, one of the air cannons on his back, begun his relatory. "Most of the city has been torched. The Red Lantern, Indusrial and Highlane District are in ruins. Most of us, Tigers of the Relentless Gears are lost, or too hurt to continue to fight. The Garrisson troops have been hit even harder due to Minos' personal vendetta. Together, we are each a bodyguard, hardly an army. The Garrisson may recruit from civilians, but we are looking at sub-par soldiers here. And the ranks of the Tigers are for an elite few."

Another gesture of Iron Tears' hand, and the other spoke. He wore a black cape, and his badge of office was darker. He was less obvious, but militaristic all the same. "Father of Crows there rose the Underworld... but we do not have an Underworld anymore. Most of the gangs were scattered. The organizations of smuggling, drugs and slaves are simply broken, utterly, nothing in their place as of yet. The Assassin's guild committed itself to fight the Thorns, and suffered heavy losses, only a collection of its best still living. The criminals always rise again, but there is no structure there we can use."

Iron Tears made another gesture, and turned to the Exalted. "As you can see...."

Child of Wyld Days: Days could only laugh. "Even in victory, the city is on one knee. Another attack, and matters would be over and done. Is that what you're getting at?" Her expression... quickly sombers, though. The pattern of oath within grips at her Heart, and she visibly flinches as it reminds her of her words.

Serve. Fight. Until it ends. And this is not the end, faerie.

"I am still here, Iron God. However... I do not know how much additional help I could provide. The one option I know of comes with considerable... complications."

... him.

Selina de Windia: Selina gave Moon a little smile, but didn't cuddle up with him, not yet. It would probably look bad. She took his hand, lightly, but stayed where she was for the time being.

I ought to show you my cities soon.

Sometime, perhaps when the war was over. Once she had dealt with the first of her cities.

"However, we lost no Chosen. The Bishop's forces...did. And not just the Parishioner."

Iron Tears: The militaristic one of the gears assented. "Marika, the Ashen Butterfly. And his bodyguard, Ecstasy. And his demons. And his monsters. Black Avian and his agents. Yes, he has lost much."

Seventh Moon: It was enough for him. Moon smiled back at her. His fingers closed over hers and held on firmly.

"We ain't dead yet." Is his answer to the two Gears. It was simple, obvious answer to Moon. Brawl was over and they were the side still standing. Just needed time enough now to lick some wounds. "Just gotta make sure we dont look as fucked over as we are."

Vorpal: And one god and one dragon, but they don't count, Vorpal adds in her mind, but doesn't say anything, merely smiles lightly. She is content with standing quietly where she is, close to Alexander.

Iron Tears: "Far from it. Instead, there are forces on the Boil that are often overlooked, for example, the Office of Unusual Ocurrences.."

And then, the one at Iron Tears' right commits a heresy.
He interrupts his own God. "The spookies?"

The reply to it is a stern look that, in some faiths, would surely condemn one to the Underworld. "The 'spookies', yes. They are more capable than even you know. And the Eir Society as well. We will be relying heavily on powerful and resourceful individuals for our defense and safety now. It would be good if you Exalted had an strategy in mind. And talked with the Office of Unusual Occurrences, they have quiite an experience with the supernatural... and passed by the revolution largely unscathed."

Selina de Windia: "But they are not line soldiers, are they?" Selina asks, mulling over the possibilities. If Valencia was going to start her assault, she had better do it soon.

Although...there was the possibility that they could march, and draw some of the Bishop's forces away from the front.

Child of Wyld Days: She sits on the back of the couch Moon is using, arms behind her head and eyes closed. "For now, all I can offer is what you already have. Maybe In time I can provide more, but I cannot promise that."

Even in victory, the battle was not over. So much the better for her. More stories and tales awaited!

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She considered it all, though kept her council. She found herself idly curling a lock of Kanti's hair around a finger affectionately, but ceased this the moment she found herself doing it. The city was obviously not delievered from its current troubles, so she would have to hang with these ones a while yet.

Oddly, she did not mind so much.

Seventh Moon: "Spookies ain't Garrison, if thats whatcha mean darlin'..." Moon answers her, eyes towards the Iron God and his servants. Seemed like a strange thought to him, to rely on the Spookies. They were the joke of the Boil, one of them at any rate. Nothing but a bunch of left overs and wash outs and weirdos. Like the paragon example of the whole damn city stuffed into one building.

Theyd tried to recruit Moon once.

Iron Tears: "No. But they will help finding weak spots and fighting subtler supernatural pressure. With us as a force now, I imagine that is the next thing they will try. But no, it is not an army - We have the Exalted, the walls, and such powers to stand - but not to fight back. Armies, you will need to find elsewhere."

He smiles, "On lighter notes, tomorrow, at late afternoon, we shall have a ceremony of celebration for our victory. You all shall receive the honors you deserve as our heroes. And afterwards, you are all invited by my sister to a party in Kadel Kurodona's manor."

Selina de Windia: Selina's left eye twitches a bit at the mention of the Smiling Maiden. A party with a celestial madam somewhere near the top of it? They were going to leer over her.

Or even worse, not leer over me and leer over someone else.

Odd how that worked, but Selina was used to it by now.

"I suppose the people need ceremony after such, um, difficult times."

Child of Wyld Days: Snow Monkey's ears perk up at that. Party? Honors? Heroes? Yes, please! Her eyes snap open, and she rights herself. "Honor and a party, you say. Now that... that is a reward I can live with!" She flashes Iron Tears a... somewhat naughty smirk. "You're a fine, fine god in my book, Iron Tears. Let that be known."

Vorpal: The Pale Angel sighs. "If your situation is that dire", she speaks up for the first time, "We'd better start working to make it better right away."

She turns, her cloak sweeping across the floor, and leaves Alex's side."I'll go and see your commanders", she says, heading off towards the doorway, "Maybe I can give them some advice about how to organize your remaining troops."

Without looking back at them, she raises one hand in a lazy wave. "Tell me once you've decided something."

Alexander: "Milady? Lilith..." Alexander turns around, and almost reaches a hand at her... but she is already going. Too fast, and he cursed inwardly for taking too long to react. Maybe it would be better for her, she was so silent. As was the Dark Angel, come to think of it.... he retreats his hand then, least people realise it.

"Good luck, there. We will see about decisions."

Seventh Moon: In his manor or hosted by him...?

Moon's eyes light up for a moment. He knew the rumors about what went on at Kadel's parties. Everyone in the Boil did. Sometimes, Kadel would send servants into town to pluck a few pretty people to attend. Add to the atmosphere or something. Wasn't a punk on the street who didn't start strutting tall and pray to the Smiling Lover they'd get nabbed.

Then, pain lanced through Moons chest and the gleam in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by an ironic smirk. Would fuckin figure his one chance to live the high life for a night was going to be screwed over cause he'd help save the city...

Kanti: Kanti let the jade woman play with her hair, mildly disappointed when she stopped, but making no sound of protest.

a party...?
It's been so long...
So very long since one down here...

Kanti looked about the room as she does.

mistress does not like the idea of the party.
and the people's reactions to it are strange...
and the whiteshield prince feels for the abyssal?

Kanti is silent, as she tries to understand the party, grateful the abyssal had left, that mistress was leaving her alone, that the fey woman was ignoring her for now.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "I think I should enjoy spending the night at meditation, and drawing up plans to most effieciently rebuild the city's infrastructure. Unless you require my attendence to be manditory." Opal didn't like the sound of the gala... the recklace hedionism, the debauchery... the fact that Days seemed to like it so very much made it an instant turn off in her mind.

"Also, I must see to the capping of a Demanse I have noticed forming. I do not wish to think of the reprocussions an uncontrolled font of Essence would have on the spiritual landscape, much less the mutations it would cause over time."

Selina de Windia: Yes, go talk to the bitch-commander. You're a pair, you and Iria! Selina thinks almost gleefully, snapped out of her melancoly mood a bit more. She would like to be a fly on the wall for that one.

Either they would fight, or the two wretched women would realize the sticks up their arses were of the same make, build, and production number. And then they'd get along splendedly.

Then I will have to thrash them both when they open their mouths to me.

But maybe that would be even more fun than watching them fight. Oh yes.

She did, however, catch the note of Alex's protest.

Oh...hm.

Seventh Moon: Moon's attention shifts from Iron Tears and his cronies to the departing Abyssal. Vorpal. They'd met before. He remembered taking a swing at her, though he couldnt recall just why he had. Selina had bathed with her once, too, and it hadnt lead to much worth talking about. There was something in her baring. Her posture. Her voice. Like a blade of ice cutting through the room. Stiff, formal, professionalism. Everyone he knew like that took themselves too seriously. And took no one else seriously enough.

"Cold bitch..." he observed dryly.

Child of Wyld Days: ... that made her look at Opal as if she herself had been offended by the comment the Jadeborn has made. Rising to her feet, she fixes her gaze on the woman and snorts. "Now, now! This is a matter of enjoying victory! And sitting alone, by yourself, in some dusty room focusing on the speck of dust on a flea on a fly is nice when you are a martial artist trying to stay celibate. But this... this is to honor us. If I were the gods here, I would be mildly offended.... mandatory. Hmph. The need to let one's hair down and relax is mandatory."

She pauses, waiting to sink the last little barb in. "Unless you're afraid to possibly come to the conclusion that you could find something that a mad, mad faerie like myself enjoys also enjoyable. If so... then you're a coward." She grins, waiting for trouble. Answer that, bitch.

Iron Tears: "I will be seeing you, Pale Angel. Good luck with the Captain in planning our defense."

He simply smiled at the Child of Chaos. She was interesting. He was anathema to them, but she was interesting.

"Feel free to, Opal, even though many will miss our most beautific heroine. Are you referring to the Snow Owl, however?"

Selina de Windia: "Very cold." Selina replies. "And very much a bitch." Her pupils slit, just a bit. Had Alex gotten closer than she thought?

Oh, little prince. That was mine.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She looks oh so very calmly at Child of Wyld Days. She looks oh so very calmly at her. She calmly removed her hand from its place on Kanti and the other from its place on Fiona, and with a serene air, rose to her feet.

"Simply because I think of others and not my own base lusts and desires does not make me a coward. And thinking that whatever twisted dogma you ahere to is the only one true and ecstatic state of being is the most base of arrogence."

Just let it go... a single gesture and word. A breath with thought and careful direction, a subtle motion of the fingers. She had her pride, after all.

Alexander: The prince turns around, feeling Selina's burning gaze on him. It made him make a smile, trying to understand just what was up, as he heard them talk of Vorpal... "Not really. She saved me, remember? She is nice when she wants to be."

He looked at Opal and Days. Days was a heroine, nice before... but really, she should respect Opal's wishes. "Can you two try not to fight? If Opal wishes to stay at home, let her. Her devotion is commendable, Days... we all should be working."

"... well, to a degree." He adds, "It would be insulting to our patrons to deny their honors, of course."

Seventh Moon: "Somethin' the matter with the ki- with the prince?" Moon asked Selina suddenly, watching her watch him. He'd seen that look in her eyes before. Wasn't one of the ones he cared for.

Child of Wyld Days: "Ah, nonono. You are thinking of only yourself. There can be selfishness in 'pure' things. It is called 'self-righteousness'. And frankly, it makes you a cold little woman. Come now! Don't be afraid to live!" Alex's words catch her, though, and she sighs, exasperated. "I am attempting to break this stone woman out of her shell... but if you insist, Holysword.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She's goading me. She merely eyed Days with a placid calm. "You are entilted to your opinion, madame. I will adjourn myself to my study of fleas, and research a way to keep a damaged Manse from reducing a large part of this city to ruble. I would have you know I dislike explosions. Utterly."

She lifted her hand a bit, and eyed her calmly. "But mark me, Raksha. Twice I have allowed you to insult me, for sake of my promise and the Lord Iron Tears. Seek to provoke me again, and I shall not be so..."

"...forgiving."

Child of Wyld Days: Something is on the tip of her tongue; something vile, something Sword-influenced. And the Child wants badly, so badly to say it. But instead... her jaw clamps down. The dangerous glint in her eyes fades, and her normal mirth returns, the demands her Sword make for blood fading. "... we are allies, in the end. If it makes you happy, I will strive to... keep your happy. But I demand equal respect." She pauses. "... and I suggest you do not threaten me ever again." For a moment, the Sword shines through, and she is a thing of absolute terror; death behind reason---and then she is the Child again, turning away from Opal and sitting down in apparent calm.

There, on the floor and facing away from Opal, she spits out a bit of blood from her bitten tongue. ... in time, Child. All things in time.

Kanti: Kanti shivered as the fey woman became the Sword before her, gripping Fiona's hand, again forcing herself not to step back.

She did not like the Sword.

Selina de Windia: "I'm just..." Selina purrs, almost malevolently. "Examining him. That's all, Moon."

"What a lovely one you caught, Fialine. Tell me, is everything you told him a lie as well, like it was with me?"

It had happened before, she remembered. And she had dealt with it in the way it deserved. And both had died the screaming death.

"I am a hollow woman, Fialine? I can make you more hollow than I -- your betrayal can fill the void left over when I am done. Shall he watch as I do it, or would you like to witness his punishment instead?"

The Lover would not like that. A part of her would not like, even more than it disliked what she had done that time. No one else would like that.

So she reigned it in, for now. Reigned in the...there was no real word for it, was there? Lust, fury, contempt, hatred? None of them described it adaquately.

Instead she turned her attention to the fair folk, the wild one and the stable one. Her voice was like steel whispering out of velvet and silk -- soft, razor-sharp malevolence. "Do not make me regret my decision so soon. Fire and Ice you may be, but you will comport yourselves in my presence."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She looked to Selina, and bowed a little. "A thousand apologies, my lady. I shall endevour to do so in the future," she said, in a perfectly smooth voice. She resumed her half seat upon the couch, still close to Fiona and Kanti. The Dark Angel did have a commanding presence about her, even with the languid poise she seemed to be displaying.

She began to ignore Days again. She had found a crack, and used it to worm her way inside. Let your contempt for her existance be smooth, a perfect sphere of adamant. She is not real. What is unreal cannot effect the real.

Child of Wyld Days: She rolls her shoulders.... then yawns, taking a moment to crack her knucles and stretch, mouth wide and little fangs bared. As soon as she calms down, she resumes not looking at Opal, trying to clear her mind. There is a moment of inaction... and then she snaps her hand out at the ground, a strip of dream coaslecing in her palm and coming together to form...

I saw Festival perform this miracle once... let's see if I can get it down properly...

Iron Tears: The Iron God got up then, and waved for them all, "Well, I believe I shall be going now. I have matters to attend to."

"Seventh Moon, I have a good surprise for you later. One you deserve. I hope you will be healed enough for it. Well then, ladies, gentlemen, if you will excuse me..."

And with that, he parts. They were amusing, but he would always be able to feel their struggles here. He had to be elsewhere, physically.

Child of Wyld Days: ... a single ring. Its make and shape are simply unreal, obviously influenced by the raksha's mental state; the ring's form is that of sharp edges and spikes uplifting a single, impressively large gem of indeterminate type. The metal itself seems to be platinum, but the very appearance of the ring is... odd. It is both real and unreal, a glamour of precious metal and gem so complete as to make its reality undeniably.

... and yet it is still a glamoured thing.

Child of Wyld Days: "... eh."

Alexander: The prince watches... in awe.

"Wow, you just.... created it?"

Seventh Moon: "Mmm... great man." Moon answered, trying to work some sort of energy into the bland response to the departing god. It was hard to feel excited about anything at just the moment. The look in her eyes. The tone of her voice... whatever was on her mind, it was chewing hard and had big enough teeth to hurt. No elation for the victory, just something else.

Moon squeezed Selina's hand a little more. To let her know he was there. To hold on tighter if hed have to hold her back again. "Lookin' forward to it..."

Selina de Windia: She purses her lips, and buries that odd jealousy deeper, till it no longer affects her. And seals it, as much as she is able.

You should not do that to them.

Those days are past. Over.

You are not alone now.

She hoped she wasn't, anyway. Moon didn't seem like to abandon her. She takes a deep breath, and returns Moon's squeeze, shrugging lightly. "Just a passing fancy, is all."

Seventh Moon: Moon nodded slightly, not quite smiling at the change in the air but relaxing his grasp on her hand a little. At least though, the hackles of his Hound went down. Whatever she’d step close to for a moment, she’d stepped away from it again for now. Was a topic to hold back on for after brighter times and in a little less company.

Moon considered a moment, tilting his head back over the arm of the sofa to glimpse an image of Alex standing on the ceiling. Watching the fae girl like a kid fascinated with a street-weavers stories. He gauged the prince a moment, looking past the new-born nerve of steel in Alex and the air of innocence that still clung to him… then shrugged slightly.

Well, was enough in the scent of the prince and the glow in his skin to tell he’d already been bounced around at least once recently. Still, if Selina wanted to, wouldn’t take too much to get the prince on a bed. Probably needed a few more throws under the sheet after what he’d been through. And if she was going to roll around with anyone without him while he was laid up, might as well be the kid. After all, he wanted to be in on it if she ever got the frosty bitch into a bathtub again.

"Yeah," he nodded in approval and gave her a smirk both suggestive and encouraging. "I kinda like him too."

Child of Wyld Days: Days smiles to the Holysword prince, taking the ring from where it lay. "The joys of raksha miracles, yes." She rises, taking his hand before dropping the ring into it. "It is... how can I explain it. You know of our illusions, our tricks. This... is like that, but it is reinforced with reality. The stuff of dreams. Therefore... while it a thing of glamour, it is always and forever real. I imagine you could sell it for a pretty penny... I hear some Dynasts love glamoured jewelry." She closes his hand around the ring. "Keep it. I have no use for such things."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: Opal merely glances at it. It was a construct similar to Days, more stable of course. She read the pattern like a book. The ring was just a ring. The only indication of her scrutiny was the merest motion of her head, even as she began to idly curl Kanti's hair around her finger once more.

Alexander: The prince takes the ring, and holds Days' hands. "Thank you."

That was an instant of wonder he would not forget.

"I will hold it, Child of Wyld Days. As a gift. From a friend."

Another one. Of many.
They did not get along, yet.

But they were his friends, his army. He wasn't alone. It was not just the darkness, strange as all this was.
He would make them get along, yes.
He would make them right.
Soon

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