Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ofelia had been waiting to hear the King, or something, when above her it sounded like the sky was ripping apart. It wasn't the usual sounds that came with the weather, no rain to be seen for miles on such a day, and she moved her arms just in case to test for rain when something heavy fell into them instead. It was a person, one unlike any she'd ever seen, and for a moment the Tiefling just stared down at her before turning to look back up at the empty expanse of the sky. The moment passed and she turned her face back down to the occupant who was settling inside her arms.

"Well then." There wasn't much else to say and Ofelia shifted her grasp a bit so hands weren't in any place overly personal and she could and would easily put down her passenger should they flail and want to be let go. "Are you okay?" Her head was leaned down closer, enough that her warm breath was softly blowing against this newcomer's skin. Ofelia's body as a whole was very warm, it felt like being held inside a blanket fresh from the warming whatever-they-have-like-a-dryer, and once more she shifted her hands. The faint scent of brimstone seemed to be permeating from her body though it wasn't strong enough to cause too much distress.

As the realization of where she had fallen dawned on her, Moriko could feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment. Of course there were worse places that she could have ended up, but she'd certainly never fallen into another girl's arms before and she had to admit that it was a bit awkward.

Before she spoke, Momo studied the stranger that held her. She certainly wasn't like anyone that she had ever met before. At least not that she could recall, and the smell that came off of her wasn't exactly... pleasant. Although it wasn't intolerable either. Even if she looked different at least she didn't appear to mean momo or her companion any harm. At the thought of Sig she looked about for her to make sure that she had made the journey okay. Spotting her, she could see that she hadn't landed more than a few feet away and was already being helped up by a man.

Confident that her friend was in no immediate danger, Moriko brought her attention back to her current situation. "Yeah I'm fine." She told the girl, remembering that she had asked her a question. "I uh... that is, thank you for catching me. I don't imagine it would have felt very good to hit the solid ground. Although I think I'm okay to stand on my own now if you wouldn't mind." Moriko didn't particularly like to feel helpless and if the situation turned for the worst she wanted to be able to protect herself.

"Well then." Ofelia repeated what she'd said before and set down the occupant, having to bend a bit to make sure she could reach the ground. Being six feet tall made stuff hard, she was rather high up, and the Tiefling set her down and dusted the top of her head. "Be careful, go back to the others."

And then there were so many Morts that Ofelia was pretty sure someone had slipped something into that chicken she ate. She knew she shouldn't have eaten the bones =|

Another Mort planted itself back by Alexei, amused by its own existence judging by the grin. "Let Sovngard have another, friend," he said, looking skywards as if to address the heavens personally. "I'd much rather the end of this epic have a resoundly happy ending, wouldn't you? And hark!" The king pointed out the version of himself chatting with the musicians. "Songs will be sung about these days, and while most are of the fallen, I wouldn't mind something more unconventional. Say, alive and well and around to show the meaning of charm without magic?"

~ ~ ~

Three more stepped forward, and a king-copy greeted them with an enthused look. "Ah, a dragon! Well half-blooded, but a dragon nevertheless!" he cooed over Tori before flitting to Blake iwht equal wonder. "And you're - you're . . . Gods, the name escapes me, but excellent." And the third seemed to be able to part a crowd pretty easily thanks to those dogs; judging from the fact she could do more than one . . ."And a beastmaster to boot! The war might very well be harsh, but it has a way of bringing the most interesting characters out, no?"

The king surveyed them and rubbed his chin. "The mind indeed is as powerful a weapon as a sword can be; one great mind can conquer an entire army or lead it. While I'm pleased to see how eager the three of you are, I must ask: are you willing to die for your king?" He made a general sweeping motion to the shadowy tree tops that covered most of Om, his normally bright expression dimming. "I would not fault you if you would rather stay behind. If you leave my borders, I cannot guarantee you will come back alive . . ."

~ ~ ~

Gods damn it. The faerie's analogy rang true, and this particular Mort could only twist his mouth a bit in thought as Ofelia joined them; several more guards stood at the ready to spring into action, though most retained their focus on Alex. Two vastly stubborn women, one he knew would be useful on the field after her answer, another he knew was deeply rooted in magic but . . . Ah, gods damn it twice over.

"I see," he said, returning to a light and even affectionate smile once more as he adjusted the new white rose in his vest pocket. "I can hardly send one without the other, can I. Ahhh . . ." He had to restrain himself, to remind himself of his kingly duties and to think of his subjects, for now, as various tools. Not friends. Not lively beings in his kingdom he was sending to their possible deaths.

It was so very, very hard not to with that active imagination of his, however. It was so very hard not to just reach out and touch her -

"You both have made your points valid. Stand ready on the stage then," he told them simply with a nod, a twist in his gut felt at what was to come.

~ ~ ~

"A Chiroptera? Glorious~" the king purred, pleased as a peach to see such a fine specimen this day. He followed her gaze out to the rest, an odd feeling coming over him to see himself in many places at once. It was something he could probably never get used to, though if he did it would be a sad day indeed. "Well then, Lady Sin," it seemed improper to call an eladrin "miss", "I've seen your power, and though in another event I would have asked for more - druids must have the most fun with shapeshifting, honestly - there isn't much time this day. I ask that you stand with the others on the stage."

~ ~ ~

The copy Julian addressing opened his mouth to answer, but before the king knew it more were spilling out to be seen. More who were . . . not of the kingdom he realized. ]Silver had sent ambassadors it seemed. "Welcome, welcome!" he called to them, pleased to see several offer to help the newcomers adjust. "I'd say if you're here you're very much in the right place, yes indeed. From the Silver Kingdom, no? The Harvest Festival is in full swing if you'd like to enjoy the festivities."

He stepped up beside the harpy with a satisfied look. "As knightly as you seem," he noted, hands folded behind his back. "I've always been partial to knights myself; they appear in some of the greatest stories, you know. But have you ever taken care of so many at once?" He indicated those his clones were speaking to. "Could I trust you to lead them to battle, not knowing what lies ahead, and yet still be as alert and protective as my champions must be?"

And there was one more Mort, the true Mort for all purposes, that stood off to the side, the strange compass in hand. Words appeared like glyphs in small print before his face, etching out a strange message that needed some decoding for him to understand.

Interesting. Intriguing. How very curious.

The horned king pressed another hidden switch and the compass opened like a pocket watch, and from the hammerspace of inventory under his cloak he pulled out a small feathered quill. The tip of it began to tap out underneath the opened flap.

How did that work like that?

The better question was, why ask about a compass when the realm had things like voyeuristic moogles and flying elves and bunny women?

The king took on a furrowed look as he concentrated on getting his message across. Translating it across the technological boundary was a bit strange, but it appeared on the recipient's phone in all caps on accident.



Oh, the delicious technology they had . . . He was sure a few magical gems were worth the trade.

Though Mimsy hung on the King's every word, the light that sparked through her eyes when she listened directly to music wasn't there. She didn't mean any offense by this; just that she'd have been even more thrilled had he sung his sentences. And oh what a great day that would be.

"Oh, yes, of course!" She dropped the bottle she dangled over The Bard's head directly on his face, freeing her hands to clasp them over her chest, honored at the King's suggestion. "My focus is alchemy when I am not enveloped within the sweet cacophony of music." The last word was exhaled in a dreamy sigh, her eyelids falling shut as she savored just the thought of the cheerful sounds--until she remembered the circumstances, and the lids flashed open again, eyes wide.

"My apologies! As I was saying, my focus is, indeed, alchemy. I have quite a wide array of potions and salves and treatments on hand, and a great deal more in mind." She paused for the joke's effect. Still wasn't getting any funnier.

"I would be so very honored to serve you in whichever way you see fit, but even more so if I were to serve you by caring for your 'birds'." Smiling, she winked at their now-shared metaphor.

Alexander's outstretched arm found nothing but empty air. Ah, this king was a slippery one, to be sure. He didn't let it phase him, however, and he was much too busy eyeing up all of the guards that had now focused their attention on him, rolling his eyes at the tottering old wind bag that had decided now would be the best time to list all of his previous transgressions as he pulled a little bit against the hold of that one burly and incredibly sturdy guard had upon his arm.

He refused to think of this list as crimes, but more like his accomplishments!

As the list began his smile widened, a look more like pride rather then guilt written across his features. He mock buffed the nails of one hand on the front of his shirt, inspecting them and looking around, dropping a few winks to the crowd at large.

And then the king multiplied himself, and Alexander only had eyes for that delightful little compass for the moment. Was there anything that the King possessed that Alexander didn't yearn for? Well, there was the crown, he supposed, the weight of which was far too restraining for him to ever want to have.

As the King made a gesture to abruptly cut off the guards words, Alexander let out a mock sigh of disappointment. "He was just getting to the good stuff, my King." His grin widened, and widened again at the mention of his jail cell.

"I am honored by your invitation, oh horned one, but I keep telling you. Your jail cells require quite a change in ambiance and accommodation before I will consider staying there again. As long as they remain dank and miserable, I will continue to cut my visits short." His eyes sparkled merrily. It was hard to take this situation very seriously when he knew just how much he could get away with, and when the King himself regarded him with such amusement.

But he wasn't offering himself up as court jester. As much as the dhampire enjoyed playing the over dramatic fool, he could at least take things seriously when needed.

At the Kings final words, his smile slipped away, and he gave a small shrug and a nod.

And then abruptly snapped his head back to bash in the face of the guard that held him while simultaneously stomping on said guards foot.

Daggers summoned to hand, the thief pulled away, his movements fluid as he ducked, dodged and spun around every guard that tried to place their meaty hands upon him.

For those attempting to venture up onto the stage, they would be met with absolute chaos, as the dhampire that should have made a run for it, kept his place for the moment, not willing yet to give up his moment in the spotlight.

"HEY BARD, A LITTLE MUSICAL ACCOMPANIMENT, IF YOU DON'T MIND!" He shouted, before bringing his blades together and releasing their enchantment.

Woe be to anybody who attempted to keep track of his movements for the next little while. At best they could make out a blur of pale skin and dark hair as he sommersaulted, leaped, flipped, dodged, and cartwheeled his way around stage.

He could do this all night, King. All. Night.