Regroup,Recruit,Reinfiltrate

[rassafraggin]

Mercier frowns at the recounting of the tale, "I'd like to hear more. I was hoping this thing would bring in some opportunities... but... thats quite grim story you're telling." The 'trader' considers something, "Sadly, that was a one way trip. Its the long way back to Amber, so I think staying in Rebma is the right thing to do. Maybe there's something I can do help these working people.... though... why not arrest the manager?" You've got powerful players here, more powerful then some Carnival barker."

Liya smiles at that. "YOu would be correct, but the manager - is not just some carnival barker," she says softly. "Nobody sees her, they only hear her, and she's somehow bigger than her caravan would lead one to suspect, if I heard Prince Brand correctly when he was here. There is - someone or something of unknown power here, and the Kelpie itself is big, powerful and easily able to tear apart a good number of rebmans should it get loose all on its own. In any event, Prince Brand was upset by something when he was here last, and he seems to be needing some time away from those who upset him, perhaps better for them. Maggie will bring Princess Miriam back, once she's back to herself again." EArly evening, and time between shows. most of the actors are out where big half human, half squid or whale or what have yous carrying covered trays of ... barbeque are serving up dinner. Dirk is there, chowing down. "So, we need to leave here when the crowds start flowing again, slipping out to collect ourselves, make a plan and come back. soon."

Merrisol makes his way on foot down the outside lane dedicated to clowns, stunts, and thea-tare acts. Nearing the giant snail shell that is the clown troupe's base of operation, he meanders past the dining performers and walks right in, in time to catch the latter half of Liyandra's exposition to Mercier. He looks at the man curiously but stays quiet to listen to Liya, and nods here and there, frowning. Presently, as she finishes up with a projected course of action, he mulls that over as though hearing it for the first time. "Hullo Liyandra. Mr. Templeton.. I didn't expect to meet you here, but it sounds like you are here to help."

Mercier shakes his head, "Well, that all seems a little beyond my wheelhouse, then. Not sure what help I'm going to be, but, maybe someone needs a votive figureine." Mercier says, patting his satchel, "Right, we'll go." He looks to Merrisol as he enters. Ah, Captain, a pleasure." He says, carefully tipping his hat, "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I don't see quite how, just at the moment."

Merri eyes the hat briefly, but it is truly the least weird thing here for half a mile, so he only concentrates on Mercier's statements. "Oh. Well.." he starts, bemused. "I'd guess candles aren't in high demand under the sea. You'd fit right in with the Raincoats and Umbrellas sales huts," he says, smiling, then thinks more seriously. "There is still the original matter of missing persons.. a rather cold trail dating back fifty years, the last time the Menagerie came to town. It's what brought us sniffing around in the first place. Has anyone described the mystery to you, Templeton?"

"Just what was relayed to me briefly, by the lady." Mercier notes, motioning to the departing Liya. He smiles, "No, candles are not. Frankly, I'm not really prepared for a market like this. Didn't even have time to change into a lighter fabric suit. I do have one, you know." He says, pressing the hat down on his head again, "Do, please go on."

Merrisol looks agreeable, although in the pauses between remarks, he does restlessly look around, expecting to see someone who never seems to arrive on cue. "Sylla, Dafina, and Lady Fioled of House Dilwen. Young ladies, all three friends apparently. Fioled was carrying on romantically with a carnival worker.. but there's nothing more to say with regards to witness accounts. After the Menagerie had shoved off down the road, young Lady Dilwen was discovered missing first, which resulted in a chasing down of the convoy, wherein nothing untoward was discovered. They had to let it go. Sometime after, the other two Rebman girls were reported missing as well. I gather the concern largely remained with the noble girl." Typical! his frown conveys. "Fifty years later, I doubt we'll find them, but someone here must hark back to those times, and might be able to shed some light on the disappearances. Perhaps some sort of closure is all the families can hope for."





Merri's request was to meet outside the city, where the ERC touches the enchanted boundaries. Why? Why not.. can't a guy be Not Boringly Predictable for a change? The passage of the massive water mass is seen in the bits of debris and air bubble clusters that swarm rapidly by, each bit unevenly lit by the late day 'sky' above and the greenish glow from the Temple's structure on the undersea mountain. A dozen feet from the turbulent edge, Merrisol waits with one foot braced against an outcrop, to avoid being gradually pulled into the major current.

Out of the city seems to suit Ryika just fine, and she swims out from the the direction of the city, not apparently in an all fired rush, just out for a lazy swim in the relative middle of nowhere. She curves around the temple, doing little zig zags to better be able to spot Merrisol where he's just sort of hanging about, waiting against the current. She swims over in his direction, diving down to approach from an odd angle to come and meet him. "Hey there. Making me remember every bit of my Rebman geography, I see."

Despite the demonstrably powerful forces at work here, with nature to the left and divinity to the right, Merrisol looks rather peaceful, just thinking his thoughts while he waits. He is slow to turn as her voice enters the eddies in the space between them and expands, disembodied, for him to catch. When magic isn't monkeying with physics of sound travel through water, this is what happens, and presumably worse for full flatlanders, whose attempts would amount to 'blub glub gacckkkk--' down here. He looks up and along his shoulder at her before projecting the words more forcefully to compensate for the area's turbulence. "Forgive me for not showing you this area sooner," he smiles. "It's rather lovely. I come here to ponder moodily. At night, you can look up and see the bottom of ships leaving Amber's bay.."

If one asked Ryika how exactly to compenstate for the water in conversation, she'd not be able to answer, but skills and habits run deep and she manages to avoid blub glub gacckkkk.. generally. She offers him a little smile, almost gentle really as she settles near by. "I've collected a few places that I'm fond of to stand, usually under the stars, and ponder moodily. Weirdly, almost frustratingly, none of them are in Rebma." She looks up at his mention of night time viewing, to consider the surface so very far above them, and the stars further above that. "It /is/ rather lovely. I'm glad I found it now, if not earlier. What are you pondering moodily at the moment?"

"Failure," says Merrisol blithely. He looks Ryika over, and offhandedly makes note of her instincts towards anchoring against the residual pull of the current so close by. Being tiny, she might have more to be concerned about than him. "I have yet to show you around the secret Depot," he remarks, although whether he really thinks that is a great example of failure, or is being a bit random in his moody ponderosity, is not that clear. Also... did he say.. Deep-O? "Have you been able to take in the Menagerie yet, Ryika?"

"Failure is a deeply morose and ponderous thing to muse on." Ryika comments thoughtfully as she absently tucks herself in against the current. "The secret depot?" She asks, curiously and then nods. "I have, a couple times now actually. We stopped by the Kelpie show too, I saw you and Maggie there, but didn't have opportunity to chat."

Merrisol reflects on that response, gaze lidding over while he attempts to recall the shows he's attended. "They've all blended together," he frowns. "I hadn't been focused on the spectators.. I was mostly.. listening. In any case, you know that tale well, then, so I don't have to tell it. And in spite of it being a thrilling bit of theatrical fluff.. as far as the origins of the Last Kelpie, the tale happens to be true."

"I was listening to Corwin telling me how it was a familiar tale to him in one ear, while trying to listen to the Ringmaster with the other ear." Ryika twists a rueful look, resettling against the current as they talk. "Which is an aspect of relationships I hadn't previously figured out, but hey.. learn something new every night."

Under lighter circumstances? Merrisol can't -know- that! But here, he just nods, brows faintly hoisted. "We haven't found anything of wayward girls, who would be full-grown women by now, really. Investigating their fates has fallen aside for the current goings-on in the whole Menagerie.. that as far as I can tell, has nothing to do with the shenanigans of fifty years ago. A force has taken over the Carnival sometime over the past ten years.. someone the workers call The Manager has taken residence unseen and has been calling the shots."

"The Manager gave off serious levels of creepy." Ryika folds her arms as she leans into the current and nods as they get to the crux of things. "Evil force? Mind controled? Mind controlling? Or just plain old simple emotional and physical abuse?" She mmms thoughtfully. "Only ten years of him being there? What happened ten years ago?"

"The Manager is a 'her'. And the year marker isn't significant except that ten years ago a fellow going by the name of Ai was somehow compelled to join the circus and has been enthralled ever since. He's thin and sort of rickety, blue scaley skin, and googly fish eyes.." Merrisol glances down as a sea star comes winding along to caress his ankle. He watches it in a moment of wordless communion, then the thing humps off in a dedicated line towards a pale hunk of carrion lodged in the rocks farther along. Merri looks up again and resumes, "Ai claims to be human. He doesn't remember anything else of himself before finding himself in the carnival. And when he says when he had tried to leave the grounds, his head 'exploded' and he came to back within the carnival. So far.. that's compulsion and-or mind control, yes. And memory wiping.. and transformation." Merri's regard drops again, but he's only studying bare, rocking ground now.

"Mmmm." Ryika starts there, and then is quiet a few moments longer before she goes with a second little 'hunh' and watches Merrisol thoughtfully. "Now I know why I need to bother you slightly more regularly than I do. Oh. I can help with that." She digs into a pocket goodness knows where, and extracts out a thin trump case with trumps properly sealed to cope with life underwater. She extracts one and offers it to Merrisol. "Don't worry if I freak out when you call, I find it the creepiest sensation in the world, but I've been promised that I'll get used to it." She gives a little shake of her head, returning back to the notion at hand after a little tangent. "Compulsion and/or mind control and memory wiping would also account for thinking he's human when he's not, it doenst necessarily mean he's been transformed. I mean it doesnt mean he /hasn't/ been.. but still. Head exploded.. that sounds.. like we can't just drag him out. Messy."

He looks up, head lopsided, to catch her glance, and raises his brows in a continuation of the perplexed theme. Help him..? Yes, she certainly will - not like he's telling her all this for dictation. Then.. Oh! He blinks, and rights himself to properly accept the trump card, looking relatively pleased compared to the somber attitude up until now. While she continues on the main topic, he almost examines the artwork long enough for contact to be.. unwisely.. established, but shakes himself out of it just in time. Whew. "Uh - pardon me," he says with a sheepish smirk. He locates his own improbably secured trump tin to put the card away for safe keeping. "Thank you.. I'm.. very glad to have this," he says, serious again, but warmly serious. "I don't have one of myself to give in return. Not yet.. strangely," he muses, sidetracked, "with all the trumps floating around out there, none of them were specifically request by myself." He thinks about that a little bit, since this favourite thinky spot is made for that sort of ponder. "You know.. you're right, we did go with the logical assumption that transformation magic was involved, but it could very well be entirely due to a powerful group hallucination.." Hmm. 5 points to the Paranoid One. "We do mean to get him out of there.. and not just him. Ai was found out by Nicola somehow, and we managed to intervene before he could be dragged off to The Manager.. for who knows what dark purpose.. but he's still forced to stay there, hiding. Not only that, but Nicola managed to sling a spell at Miriam during the rescue effort." Merrisol sighs, as the cryptic failure quip comes to be expounded a bit.

"There are three trumps of me floating about currently.. you have one of them." Ryika notes, the picture upon it one of her lounging on a lovely chaise lounge incongruously upon an unfamiliar beach. She furrows her brow thoughtfully as he speaks. "Removing him before the compulsions are broken will probably just result in more 'exploding' head sensations, which doesn't sound good, and ideally has no irreperable damage." She frowns anew. "Nicola is working with the Manager? .. yes, it does sound like it if she's slinging spells at Miriam. Is Miriam alright?"

"Just one spell as far as I know.. we weren't sure until the following morning. Just to be sure she had not been given a head-explodey flavour of enchantment similar in function to Ai's, we sheltered with the theatrical troupe that performs The Last Kelpie legend by night," Merrisol pauses just a second, then discloses with a shrug, "and clowns by day." Significant.. how? Moving right along! "They are also trapped with the Menagerie and wanting out. But Miriam's predicament had become the new order of the day.. She.. has become a fish.. a.. squeezy, plushy, little, toy fish," reveals Merri, eyebrows wincing together with exasperation and embarrassment.

"So some are aware that they're trapped by the Manger, is Ai?" Ryika asks, as she mulls it all over in her head, buffeted a little by the current, content enough to bob against her light tethering to the outcropping as she lets all the information sink in. "You guys have done a crap ton of investigating, I'm really impressed. Thank you for sharing it with me, I dont make it down here as often as I should, I suppose.. and rarely at the same time as you guys." She pauses just a moment at the revelation about Miriam's current state and she chokes down a chuckle. "It's not funny, but I can't help it.. a toy fish!?"

Merrisol closes his mouth, lips compressing in a thin frown in reaction to the almost-chuckle. "Yes," he answers after restoring equilibrium. "It has a sort of sense to it, as we know Nicola is a fashioner of toys and trinkets, as well as a critter handler." He eyes Ryika closely for a sign of giggles. "I cannot begin to illustrate the awful unfunniness of a Princess of Tir and Last Best Hope of her beleaguered realm being reduced to a... pathetically adorable and colourful child's stuffie. She doesn't know how to be a fish, much less a toy one with limited flexibility, it's been all wobbling and flapping and squeaking.." No.. NO. Not funny. It's not difficult for Merrisol to keep it together, as he is clearly guilty of luring another under-experienced lass to her doom.

Ryika is damned, its true, but she can't help but laugh, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Merrisol.. you cannot be immune utterly and totally to the incredibly absurdity of the notion that yes, a Princess of Tir and Last Best Hope, yadda yadda being a toy stuffie /fish/. It.. it is horrifying and hysterical all at once, and of /course/ now we have to figure out how to get her /back/ out of that form. Does she still retain her thoughts? Can she be trumped to communicate?"

"If I laughed," says Merrisol with a grave headtilt as he watches her display of mirth. "I could never forgive myself, even if she.. eventually.. does. I know when something is inherently ridiculous, Ryika.." Debatable! "..and I don't blame you for laughing. Just.. get it all out of your system before we go over, Dame Diplomat," he advises with a faint upturn to one corner of his mouth. "Just in case she hasn't been unsorceled. She can speak, somehow, and a quarter of the time, it is expletives." Not an aspect to the demure woman that he is used to! "Of course just as soon as we figured out what had happened, we determined that Maggie should call on her father to analyze and break the spell. However, as I, uh... we.. aren't on good terms, Brand and I.. eventually it led to him refusing to treat the Princess and departing Rebma," Merri admits with as little tonal colouring to the statement, though it is obvious this has only cemented his ill opinion of Brand. "..When I left a few hours ago, Maggie was attempting to get hold of him again, to plead with him on Miriam's behalf.. With my not being anywhere near them, there is a possibility the Prince has since changed his mind."

"I laugh, as often as not, in lieu of freaking out." Ryika notes with a flash of a smile. "And I am utterly capable of keeping a lid upon my emotions when there is need of it." She pauses just a moment and quirks a brow. "Is Brand not terribly keen on someone dating his daughter? He didn't seem the protectively paternal type when I was speaking with him, but I had momentarily forgotten that he is Maggie's father."

Merrisol makes an 'enhh' face. "Sometimes he is paternal and sometimes he isn't, according to Maggie. I suppose it comes and goes along with lucidity in general. And it may be based on protectiveness, or it may be he just doesn't find -me- in particular to be a worthy match for Maggie. We do not tend to speak directly towards one another," Merrisol further admits, "but in the course of our participating in discussions of international security he has come away with the idea that I believe him to be a criminally negligent if not callous, unstable, and calculating fellow. Naturally... that has.. annoyed him. I'm fairly sure that plays a big part in his dislike." Oh, you think, Merri? "Anyway. I should check with Maggie that it's all clear to return. I think you are almost on the same page as the rest of us, although there is a bit of mystical jargon to this situation with the Manager that I think she can explain more accurately than I. Both Brand and Sullivan were able to sense a few things while they were here. And apparently, they can fix everything given the opportunity, undo all the Manager's work. There is collateral damage to consider, as well as requiring the consent of the Regent to enact such a solution in his realm." Merrisol regards her a moment. "Martin is indisposed.. I'm not certain what with. And so.. I understand you may grant that consent on his behalf, Ryika."

"Lucidity was in short supply when he and I were chatting. It was interesting, but I can't say as it was terribly /functional/." Ryika muses thoughtfully and then offers Merrisol a rueful little smile. "Mmm.. you do know that you've rather described /all/ of the Princes in that statement, right? To various degrees in each marker, and depending on specifics, but all of them tend to apply. Not that it helps any when one is talking fathers of one's partners.. but /I/ think you and Maggie are an excellent pair." She ahs and nods. "I.. haven't gained a whole lot of relevant /skills/ in terms of my mysticisms, but I do know a great many more of the words. Hanging with you guys always tends to remind me of just how absolutely non-functional my skills are Mmm. I don't htink I know Sullivan. I met another with Brand.. although it could have been, I don't think he introduced himself, come to think of it." She pauses at the end and blinks at Merri. "Wait, say /what/?"

Merrisol has the trump tin back in hand, if it had ever left it, but he pauses in drawing out a sealed card to gaze at Ryika with a bit of trepidation. "As Ambassador to Amber, I would gather. You have the power to represent the Regent in matters of the Amberites meddling about in Rebma.. isn't that correct?"

"Generally that is reserved for proceedings in Amber, rather than proceedings in Rebma to do with Amberites. That being said, Martin tends to prefer to forge his own path through the diplomatic and political landscape." Ryika quirks a rueful little smile at the notion, no laughter there, merely a touch of stress at the inevitable paperwork that tends to be her lot in life. "I would have expected him to have put such responsibility into you, personally, not me. Generally such arrangements are made explictly, rather than implicitly, but then we return to the whole 'forging one's own path'."

Merrisol mulls over her statements by drawing his lower lip in to gnaw, and gives her an oblique look of puzzlement. He's not about to debate the purpose of the Embassy with the Embassy lead, however, and especially when he instead has to point out, "Yes, well, coming on the heels of my report about what has happened to Princess Miriam, let's suppose Martin is taking a break from granting me any additional responsibilities. And from direct dealings with Brand, I would wager." He fwips the card up securely betwixt his fingers so the mini-currents don't snatch it away. "So.. after Maggie has explained the whys and hows of this intervention, you may wish to get clarification from Prince Brand himself, or Sullivan if he is available to translate." Merrisol watches her for a couple of silent beats, then says, "Let me just stress.. there will need to be conditions stipulated on the removal of the compulsion.. or binding.. magic. The safety of the capital and its citizens must be guaranteed. If loosed so close to the city, the Kelpie, if not all the critters, may rampage indiscriminately. I will be enlisting Meijanri and Liyandra to help in reducing the chances of this. Others, such as Shao and Templeton, will see to the well-being of the carnival workers, whatever occurs when the perhaps multiple layers of enchantment are lifted."

"Well, what has happened to Princess Miriam could have happened under anyone's watch, that's hardly reason to absolve you of responsibilities.. but your point about Brand is an excellent one, yes. That would be a challenge on both sides, to have meaningful negotiations due to extenuating circumstances." Ryika nods in agreement with him and then mmms and nods. "Oh most certainly. This needs to be done cautiously, not only for those affected, but for the city and the surrounding environment. Rampaging Kelpie, bad plan, mind shattered workers, also could be very disoriented and unpredictable." She pauses a moment and then notes. "Is the containment of this .. the Kelpie in particular I'm thinking, somewhere that Corwin's skills might be welcome? He is not with me deliberately, knowing that he is not especially welcome, but would assist if I asked him. That being said, if it would make everyone else uncomfortable to the point of not working well as a group, then I will leave him to his own affairs."

Merrisol looks blank a moment, as though for a time he had forgotten Ryika had a paramour from the criminally negligent if not callous, unstable, and calculating royal set. "Uh.. that would depend, I suppose," he frowns, curious. "What skills are we speaking of?"

"Primarily Corwin is a swordsman." Ryika considers a moment and then nods. "That is, I should think, his most relevant skills here. And of course, the whole strong and tough and all the rest of it that comes with being a Prince. He's not going to have any skills relevant to enchantment breaking, I'm the mystic in our pairing, and well.. I'm a terrible terrible mage."

"Oh." Merrisol looks surprised. "Our aim is to dissuade the animals from violence.. without harming them in turn. Failing that.. I suppose some super swordplay would be in order. But.." He shakes his head decisively. "We do not intend to fail." Oh them nature-lovin' peaceniks! They'll be the ruin of civilization!

"Oh of course." Ryika agrees with a nod of her head. "Coralling and not harming any of the creatures or people is plan A. Plan B, however.. well its just good sense to /have/ a plan B, no matter how little you might wish to use it, and when you do not use it, that's a good and excellent thing. Still, that being said, if he's going to make everyone stunningly uncomfortable, it's not worth it, I don't think."

Merrisol nods along with the statements, for they are sensibly made. "Stunningly..? I don't know. If he's to be allowed access everywhere in Rebma.." save for those few no-no areas, "..there should be no problem with him being at the carnival.. even during a time when people and things are swarming in a panic. If he really would be fine taking time out of his business to spend time relegated to a Plan B position, that is." Merrisol lowers his head in thought, Maggie's card absently held face upward while he traces the details with a fingertip. "I am going to negotiate with Oshan. There must be something it desires more than exacting vengeance on the Menagerie and Rebma for its capture and imprisonment." Which is all well and good, buuuut.. the Kelpie was all shrieks, roars, and whinnies? Does it even speak the King's Thari? Merrisol lifts his fingers away and studies the trump, and is soon speaking quietly over the astral wire.

"I will ask him, and we shall see. He's been to the Carnival already.. twice. He's not barred from Rebma, but he will be working with us, presumably.. or allies of yours, and I know he makes you uncomfortable at the very least." Ryika points out thoughtfully. "Wait.. who is Oshan?" She's quiet again as Merrisol concentrates on the trump.

Merrisol hears Ryika's question and turns his head a few degrees without losing visual contact with the card. "Last Kelpie of It'rla.." he projects faintly. The name had sallied from the Ringmaster himself at least once during each of the shows. Listening, Merrisol's expression strips away to naked relief. Sounds like Brand did come through after all. The rest of the brief talk is about a strategic regroup to the Palace for the team, while Ai will be safely hidden away at the theater troupers' housing.

---___----____-----_____------_____-----____----___---

Time? Maggie does not know what time it is. It could be morning or evening or somewhere in between. She is sort of floating, teathered by a silken cord to a curve of coral on the wall outside of the guest room Miriam has been ensconsed in. While Maggie's eyes are closed, she might not be asleep. Her expression is not the relaxed unaware nothingness that one might expect with sleep.

It is very easy to be very quiet when approaching in Rebma. There are no footsteps to echo, no splashes of waves at the surface to announce a person. There is a shift in the currents and eddies of the water to mark someone's approach, and Ryika comes up upon where Maggie is at least tokenly relaxed in her vigil. She doesn't immediately inturrupt, settling in to wait next to where Maggie is relaxed.

Maggie is not immediately aware that she has been joined. Minor changes in currents and eddies are noted but sort of catalogued in the 'a passing guard - leave alone to do his or her job' category. When the eddies pause and die away before someone passes, Maggie cracks open an eye to peer around. Spotting Ryika, the other eye opens and her smile is quick and warm, "Hey, you. Welcome to Rebma. How are you?"





Merri's request was to meet outside the city, where the ERC touches the enchanted boundaries. The passage of the massive water mass is seen in the bits of debris and air bubble clusters that swarm rapidly by, each bit shimmering in the greenish glow coming from the Temple's structures on the undersea mountain. High high overhead, a strip of the 'sky' dances with spirits as the keels of ships passing through the prescribed zone create moon-infused ripples - sliding, expanding, fading.

At first it might seem that Merrisol's summons has gone unheeded. Then the tiniest bit of movement, some light glinting off scale at the edge of a stark shadow cast by the jaw of that huge predatory skeleton. Meijanri's long form can be seen huddled in the darkness, almost pressed into the sand as she peers about cautiously. Merrisol asking to meet is nothing too unusual. Meet here, well, a little sketchier. But with everything that's been going on with the Deep Menagerie, Meijanri isn't taking any chances, else they might have to conduct their meeting through the bars of a cage.

The turbulent edge bleeds off minor eddies, which stir up loose silt and the sunken jetsam from ships, which are slowly drawn and gathered into the principle mass. It's one way to keep this lonely vista tidied up. Still, a pale hunk of carrion lays under the weight of feeding sea stars and crabs, that area roiling with scavengers.. none of them Merri-sized. He may have given up waiting? Captured by the Menagerie when they couldn't get their hands on a snakey-lady? Then... from the direction of the carnival itself, to Meijanri's rear flank, Merrisol does appear. He drops in from some opposing current and visually sweeps the deep, lonely stretch from above. Seeing nothing but the rippling carpet of the bottom-feeders, he drifts aimlessly for several moments, then tumbles in a complicated about-face to depart on another southbound current.

Ah, but she has seen him. Where her stealth has grown rusty from lack of use, the water itself magnifies her awareness so that not even a fish could escape her notice. Never you might an awkwardly tumbling Merrisol. From the shadows comes a bright glinting as she removes one of her firebottles from its pouch, the flickering of flame quite uncommon on the sea bed. There's a strange vibration in the water as she shows it, something just on the edge of perception, though it is echoed a moment later by distant whalesong.

As the illumination grazes across the edge of his periphery, Merri executes an additional leisurely turn through three-dimensions, even while the current takes him further southwards. It appears he's spotted the licking flames since he abruptly upends and dives straight downwards, dropping out of the current again and falling earthwards. Describing the most gradual of curves, he skims the craggy basin by pulling himself over outcrops, and makes his way closer to the site of that odd flickering. Presently perched on a jutting shelf of black sediment, he cranes forward, head tilted and frowning up at the scaly glimmers now evident in that deeply cast shadow. "Meijanri..?" he ventures, voice distorting just as soon as the name leaves his lips. "What are you doing?"

She makes sure the bottle is tucked away safely and securely before looking back up with an awkward pause. Her voice is a whisper, "Didn't you want to meet with me? Come on, hide... You're making me feel silly." She kicks up some sediment as she shifts her tail to make room for him, as if the spot she's just uncovered is the only one Merrisol could possibly occupy, rather than the meters of empty sand to all sides.

"Oh.. yes, of course," he mutters. "We're.. hiding." It's evidently not enough that they are meeting in a low-traffic zone, surrounded by forces natural and divine, where the constant motion makes it impossible for soundwaves to retain their shape for long. Anything sneaky he can do, she can do sneakier! Merrisol tips off the shelf and into a shallow ditch, and climbs swiftly through that to exit into the monstrous stretch of shadow, dim lights striping along his form until he is engulfed in the deepest part. "Thanks for coming down," he starts up again, feeling his way until his eyes adjust a little more. "I do remember we were supposed to be going beyond the Depot and into the catacombs.. and I still want to. I really need you to help me with something else first, Mei-" His hand brushes over the last of her dorsal fins, and he stops, digging his knees into the slope. "The Deep Menagerie.. Do you know what it's about?" It's been around for a long while, although its circuit through Rebma and neighbouring shadows is roundabout enough to mean it stops in Rebma only every 50 years or so.

Meijanri settles back into the silt and watches him make his way over, one hand wringing the other. Her tail stirs slightly as his hand brushes against her fin, though the darkness makes it impossible to determine much more. The Undine moves closer to him in the shadows. For whispering. Which she does, right by his ear. "The other night I scouted it out so I could free the animals, but... there's something wrong about them. I don't think they're real, but... maybe... the Kelpie..." Her hands clench into fists and she shakes her head, "The whole thing is... it's wrong! It's cruel. I sent Martin a letter about it but he never responded. Do you think he condones it?"

Merrisol tries to develop gooseflesh as Meijanri looooms close to whisper. His shoulders relax as he lets out a breath, and frowns as he attempts to direct his reply to where he assumes her own ear frill is. "Martin is caught up in something else.. I don't think he's in Rebma, or Amber for that matter. A group of us.. myself, Maggie, Liyandra, and others, we've been looking into the whole thing as well. All the critters, and many of the workers too.. they are enthralled and compelled to stay with the Carnival.. and as you say, they are not as they seem to be. You're right about the Kelpie, Oshan of It'rla is real. I've sent a report to Martin, and he has given Ryika the power to represent him in this matter."

Meijanri does have baffling anatomy, to be sure, though Merrisol's attempts to whisper do not fall upon deaf... frills. She nods once, staring out into the waters beyond just in case a spy or assassin from the Deep Menagerie should show up to murder Merrisol and make her part of the show. "Maybe we should use code words...," she murmurs to herself. Glancing sidelong to Merrisol, she nods once, confidently, "Then our first step is to free Oshan. Then she can help us decide where to go from there. If Ryika wants to help she's welcome. If she doesn't, we have to do this anyway." Then a moment of awkward hesitation as she turns to face him fully, her hands reaching for his shoulders, "...You're going to help me, right?"

His gaze upturns, searching for the edges of her silhouette, while he staunchly allows himself to be grasped in earnest. "Yes, I want the same thing, Mei.." he says, softening his voice to a reasonable, reassuring cadence. "However.. something is already in the works and aimed at the Manager who is suspected to be behind the magic and deceptions.. to stop this thing at its source. Your concern, and mine, and Liyandra's may begin with the animals, but this has to be coordinated on both sides or it won't come off. Please.. do not go rogue on this. The awareness of the Manager is such that she will feel the tampering in one quarter, and go on alert before we are ready.. Mei? Can we all work together on this?"

Meijanri glances away, her dark hair floating in the meager light, then looks back. He can barely make out her eyes, but her voice is pleading, "What if it were I locked up like that?" Her hands shift on his shoulders, grasping more tightly before falling away. Again, one hand wrings the other. "...How much longer would it be? Merrisol, if we wait on this, and our...," she pauses to think of a word. One better than what immediately jumps to mind. "Our -hesitance- costs that Kelpie her freedom, or her life..."

He reaches out, finds her wringing hands to take and unwring. What he can see of her eyes, he fixates on, staring firmly, stating decisively, "We won't fail, Meijanri. And.. have you attended one of the nightly showings of the Kelpie? Have you -seen- Oshan? When the binding spells fall, do you think it.. she.. will be happy? I'm telling you, Meijanri, the first thing on her mind is vengeance. She can and will kill her captors, and many of them are not really her enemies. The people of Rebma are not her enemies. Now, I have no doubt that we will succeed, but for the safety of Rebma, we must convince Oshan to take her freedom and depart."

Meijanri looks down at their joined hands. Her shoulders heave in a silent, underwater sigh, and she lifts her head again, "...I... see your point, Merrisol." Her tone is grudging, "But she deserves vengeance for what's been done to her. If she doesn't take it, she will always carry this humiliation with her. She'll always doubt herself. Besides... sharks have no choice but to eat smaller fish. They'll starve if they don't. Does that mean you wouldn't protect yourself from one?"

Merri blinks a couple of times, pondering that twizzler of a conundrum. "Wait.. am I supposed to be the Kelpie in this analogy.. or is the Kelpie the shark?"

Meijanri sighs again, shoulders falling, "What I mean is that when someone does something terrible - like imprison a Kelpie - then if it isn't their fault that means they're not a terrible person. It doesn't change what they've done. Maybe it'd be best if you explained it all to Oshan and let her decide whether or not to forgive her captors?"

Merrisol nods. "I do intend to explain things."

---___----____-----_____------______-----_____----____---___

Liya is floating near Mercier, the two chatting. She glances towards the chairs, and then inclines her head. "Certainly, let's have a seat, and maybe a drink. Would you like something?" She glances around and then she chuckles. "Honestly, in Sukho, often we wear little more than here, so it is not entirely strange for me. But I do admit that I have learned that wearing a lot of clothing is important in winter."

Meijanri moves a hand out to her side as she swims in Liyandra's direction, murmuring a dejected, "Hey," almost as a sigh. Ordinarily she'd be amused by Mercier's difficulty coping, a little quid pro quo when a landwalker comes to her world, for how she must feel on dry land. Squid pro quo, if you will. Today is no ordinary day. Her long body draws up into a loose coil near Liyandra and she folds her arms over her chest, looking moodily at the two.

"...," she does not say, for that is not a word. Instead it is a distinct and palpable lack of speech. One that begs explanation.

Oh so very many people in the palace, and yet another swimming over from not so far towards where folks are gathering up. Ryika might be only half Rebman, but it's more than enough for the petite woman to be utterly comfortable in the water as she swims up quietly.

Oh god the sea-naga was coming over. Mercier gives a nod to the Undine, "Minister-Captain." He says politely. That creation for annoucements. He looks back at the woman, taking a split second to put a confused look on his own face, then turning his head towards Liyandra after the appropriate period of ackward silence, "I'm... not quite sure what to say here."

Liya shakes her head, and tracks down someone who can bring drinks. Which gets that dealt with. "Brandy, please." Then she looks at Mei, frowning briefly. "How're you doing, Mei?" Ryika's arrival gets a smile, and a wave, and then Liya smiles at Mercier. "So then, what else would you like to know?" she asks. "I guess I'm not sure if you're all caught up or if you're just totally confused, apart from the strangeness of being under water."

Meijanri half-glances at Mercier, flicking her long, forked tongue in the water. "...," she again does not say. But when Liya asks, she nearly interrupts her to explain, "How is it we're all just sitting here chatting when that mad... 'Manager' is holding that poor kelpie captive?" Such a direct, even aggressive question is unlike her, but then, she is quite unlike herself today. As she catches Ryika's approach she rises in the water, her voice climbing as well, "Dame Ryika, you are the Regent's representative, are you not? What says the Regency about this... travesty?"

"Evening." Ryika greets quietly as she settles near the trio and then nods to Meijanri's query. "I am, yes." She confirms as she looks between the three of them, offering Liya a smile at her wave and a polite nod to the uncomfortable Mercier. She returns her attention to Meijanri. "I can appreciate your frustration, Minister-Captain, but with quite this many different aspects to the mission, we're unlikely to get a second shot at it. To have everything prepared and in place, both for the Kelpie and for the workers' sake, there's moments when patience is required and a bit longer in the preparation increases the chances of success dramatically."

Mercier looks to Liyandra, "I think I have the basics of the problem down. 3 women dissapear fifty years ago, in conjunction with this circus coming into, and leaving town, respectively. Through the mad laws of this universe, people are still /alive/ to care when it came back, and upon investigation, it appears your party was able to come to the conclusion that some very sinister control and transformations are going on, and the manager him or herself is somewhat igcognito. Isn't hard to imagine what happened to the girls, if they're still alive. Though I'm in something of agreement with the Captain here. You have plenty of power, you know who the juggins is that's causing all the trouble. As much as I loathe the vaugeries of fuedal justice, it seems you have the opportunity to use it your benefit here. I'm just a trader, but even I'm familier with conmen and pressgangs. Not pleasent people. Taking one out of the criminal pool would be a service."

Meijanri folds her arms over her chest, frowning, "Can you, then? Has anyone bothered to tell Oshan that she must have patience? That she only need suffer humiliation for a 'bit longer,' for the sake of her captors?" Nearly seething, she adds, "Do you see how easily it could be me or one of my sisters in that cage? If plans must be made then let's make them and put them to action rather than... sitting around watching the landwalker try to tame his chair." One hand motions to poor Mercier. Deep down inside she knows he's doing his best. In fact, she glances to him with a subtle lift of her chin, because he appears to be on her side.

Liya looks at Mei, and then she says, "And it could be me or anyone else here trapped in that menagerie. It's not just Oshan who is imprisoned, Mei. We want to rescue them all." Emphasis on the ALL there. "But - you weren't there when Prince Brand was going on about the manager, or you wouldn't be thinking it's all that easy. Mr. Templeton, what you are suggesting is also my own thought, but it runs the risk of how many Rebmans dying if we don't do it exactly right. And Mei - sorry, but they do count too. Oshan is not the only victim."

"Not for the sake of her captors. For the sake of other victims, Meijanri." Ryika's voice and tone is patient, eternally so. "Yes, I do see how it could be one of your sisters. I see how it could be /me/, but rushing in before things are ready is neither practical, nor reasonable, nor sensible. I /want/ this to succeed. Fully." She looks between Meij and Mercier both at their desire to go raging in Right Now. "And so I beg of you, all of you, a touch of patience, even in the face of knowing that time is of the essence. Rushing in and failing for lack of prepartaion is likely to be quite a lot more detrimental than waiting a little while longer, as much as no one wishes to let this go on even a second longer than it needs to." She nods to the three of them. "So if you will all excuse me, I will go see what I can find out about the timeline of this whole thing."

Meijanri seems neither surprised nor humbled, and her opinion on the matter is written all over her face. The anger that flashes in her eyes seems unsettlingly at home, like a favored garment she hadn't worn in ages and only now has been found to still fit perfectly. There was a time, after all, before Meijanri Kell's exodus to the surface world, and a time when any Rebmans to die in the liberation of a kelpie would not count as a tragic price paid, but merely an added benefit. But those times have passed and now she serves as a Minister - pardon, Minister-Captain - for the Regency. Such a position comes with certain responsibilities, including those that may feel as millstones in trying times. Yet in trying times, cooler heads do prevail and that is not lost on the Undine, even if it's of little comfort. With no more than a grumble, Meijanri Kell skulks off.

Mercier gives Ryika a watery bow of his head as she departs, shrugging, "Well, I'm not very much qualified to help here, other then add a sharp mind to a pile full of scapels anyhow. I'm sure it'll be other boots tromping in with strong line and a knowledge of the hogtie. But, I suppose no trade is made without a bit of research." Mercier still holds onto the chair to keep from floating off in a direction, giving a polite nod as the Minister-Captain departs as well, "I need a cigerette." he says, mostly to himself.

Merrisol puts in an appearance at the Palace finally, walk-drifting into the Guest Wing and considering the doorway to the Princess' personal suite of rooms, as he goes past. With some hours left before Rebman daybreak, he ought to retire to a chamber himself, but instead he wanders into the parlour and looks up and around to the shelved tables ringing the sloped walls. Seeing Mercier doing his limpet impression at one of the chairs, he inclines his head in greeting. "How are you situated, Templeton? Do you have need of an overnight room?"

Ackwardly sitting, and trying to keep from floating about by hooking his leg around a chair leg, Mercier takes a sip of something om the table in front of him, before lookign to Merrisol, "I'm situated ackwardly." The trader says. He's dressed.... a little better for the area, wearing trousers of a lighter material, and color, then he normally wears, a shirt, a waistecoat, and a tie. He's tucked his coat and hat off... somewhere, as form loses to function there. Mercier hrms a moment, "I seem to be, in fact. I was planning on aliting out to find a tavarn, but.... I'm not quite sure how they work about here."

Merrisol takes a moment to attempt parsing the statement. "Rebma has taverns, yes - and the glasses are usually fitted with one-way spouts.. oh." He frowns with realization, "You meant.. a room for renting. It's straightforward: You pay and you stay." He steps up and sits on the backrest of an empty booth. "You will find the hammocks fairly tricky at first."

"Never can tell with strange places such as this." Mercier notes, "I'd seen a few, but, good to see they'll accept the standard currency then. It would be a bit of a triumph to get into the palace in the morning, but it seems the proper thing to do." Mercier notes, hrming, "I should slip away at somepoint, maybe have a.... swim? to consider the facts."

Paying with unmarked pearls is also valid, if ostentatious," Merri goes on, to be a thorough educator. "But not unminted gold. In Rebma, gold is decorative, not precious." He casts his gaze upwards again. "I wish you luck in your deductive work. Unfortunate so many of the facts are based on hearsay and unreliable sources."





Why, exactly, Ryika isn't at Corwin's townhouse in Rebma, is an excellent question. A question that is lost to the ages, as they are not there, but instead at the Ygrayne holdings. Within said holdings, a sitting room that holds a Ryika, and a Corwin distracted by a trump call, and a few wax tablets holding notes that Ryika might be reading while having a bit of lunch. Message went out into the waters of Rebma that she was hoping to meet with Merrisol, here, or at a location of his choosing. The timing of said message and meeting, nebulous hazy in terms of the when from conversations in Palace hallways.

Merrisol arrives with the kind of blank-eyed stoicism that results from a combination of moderate sleep-deprivation and a number of hard knocks of late. And so.. come on over to the Ygrayne garden home where they kind of loathe him for his work putting away dear old Evadyr, and coming out Morfilod besides..? Sure, whatever. Maybe being a friend of their newly elevated prodigal daughter has calmed attitudes somewhat. Showed into the sitting room, he zeroes in on her and headtilts inquiringly when he next sees Corwin is also present. "Ah.. hullo. Ryika..? Is this a good time to talk?"

The nice thing about Ygrayne, is that they hate everyone! Ryika looks up and nods, standing and gesturing. "It is for me, if it is for you. Goodness, Merrisol, you look as if I should hide you in a side room for a couple hours and let you nap." She gestures towards the drinks. "Can I offer you anything? Rebman coffee just.. well.. isn't."

The response doesn't quite satisfy the subtext of his question, by the way he studies the situation from where he is at the parlour entrance. He nods and starts forward presently, sweeping his gaze wide to take in a bit of the opulence. "I'll be fine, after this is all over," Merri peruses the drinks collection, but doesn't touch any, and turns to Ryika again. "What do you need?"

Distracted by the trump call no further, Corwin breaks the contact with a slight shake of his head, only to then let his gaze flicker about the room and when he notes the presence of Merrisol, there's a polite little incline of his head and a curl of his lips to a smile, "Well. Hello there." He's falling quiet after that, gaze shifting back over towards Ryika as he begins to look between the two.

"So.. after I got done soothing, or attempting to soothe Meijanri to the point where she didn't race off Right Then to break the Kelpie free, by assuring her that there was a Plan, and Plans take time and patience, and dear gods don't do anything stupid, or you'll jepordize it all." Ryika comments to Merrisol with a rueful little smile. "And equally realizing that the little Not It stunt that you and Martin have gone for, means that I get to sooth the ruffled scales all over the place.. well I realized that I have no clue whatsoever what the plan, or the timing /is/. Which leaves me with the presumption that your stunning organizational skills /have/ a plan, because you usually do, but I realized that I should ask, afore I made an ass out of me and uption, and other dumb verbal platitudes."

Merrisol's gaze travels back to Corwin when the other man refocuses on the here and now, and dips his regard a little off-keel. "Highness." Back to Ryika then, he listens gravely the entire way through, with bits of irritation collecting and building up in his expression, only to be shaken off as he considers the few key points upon which to touch. "It.. sounds like there has been a miss-ass-me-umption here already, Ryika," he starts, slowly. "You have the power to authorize Prince Brand's proposed solution, after hearing it explained, mage to mage, and setting the parameters for the security of the city and those we are aiming to release from the Manager's unnatural control. It's a weighty responsibility, but it is also part of your diplomatic duties.. it is not, as you say, a stunt. Martin trusts you, and I trust you, to serve the interests of the people, and if you feel Brand's solution is too risky for whatever reason, we will make other plans."

There's just the faintest little cluck of Corwin's tongue as Merrisol begins to speak and it's followed by a curve of Corwin's lips to a smirk, though he doesn't offer anything as of yet. Instead, his gaze shifts over towards Ryika and then back to Merrisol and when the other man is finished, he's simply looking back to Ryika, "Look at that. Choices and duty." Leaning forward, he's claiming his weighted Rebman glass, to take a sip of whatever is contained within before settling back into his seat.

"Oh shush, you." Ryika quips back to Corwin, her tone affectionate and she settles her attention back to Merrisol and nods, her expression flickering to something more apologetic. "That, that's my irreverent sense of humour serving me in no good stead with your sensibilities, Merrisol. My apologies for it. I recognize and accept such responsibility, no matter how much I might make light of it in private, I assure you that private and public are quite different beasts in my demeanor, as.. well as I consider it.. as you actually rarely if ever get to see. So I suppose I shouldn't fault you for not realizing that I can pull it together as needed when you only endure the private side of my quips. Which does bring me to somethign I'd clearly not quite grasped entirely, I need to meet with Brand in a sooner rather than later sort of scenario."

Merrisol gets halfway towards giving Corwin a Look, but his eyes don't quite make it all the way over to him, before they stop and wander on back to Ryika. Because man, is it ever true that Merri often cannot detect sarcasm, teasing, hyperbole, et cetera, so he willingly nods to her explanation on the whole, and doesn't bother to re-address the fiddly bits. "Yes.. or get the rundown from Maggie, who I believe understands the mechanics of it better than the rest of us on the team. But, yes.. Brand, if at all possible." He turns away from the wet wet bar and goes to find a seat near Ryika's. "As for it being all on you to manage the overall operation and 'personnel'.. let's be clear on that count as well. Having the veto power over Brand's involvement does not put you In Charge, but instead we will all certainly have a part in coordinating our teams. I know Meijanri has her own agenda and I have also been working on defusing her single-minded focus on the Kelpie. Hell, I was in the middle of recruiting her to our cause when that complication came to light," he admits with a shrug. "Let me worry about her.. she'll be with Liyandra and I, as I believe we have the closest affinity towards the critters, as well as the Kelpie. It will be our aim to resecure the bunch once the compulsions are lifted, for a more organized release to their native waters. The Kelpie itself must be made to agree not to wreak her special blend of havoc and destruction on the city, or on the carnival itself. I have exchanged words with her previously, so I will make that my own goal."

"Where's the fun in that," is what Corwin quips back to Ryika before letting his attention wander between the two once again, that smirk dancing back to his lips, "For the record, things work /so/ much better when there's a single person .. In Charge as you so elegantly put it. Keeps coordinating, tracking and taskings far more streamlined, instead of every person trying to make things go their way." That's obviously directed to Merrisol and with a flit over towards Ryika, he's offering a quick, "We can drop Brand a trump and see if he's free in a bit, Ry. Shouldn't be to difficult to get his attention for a bit."

"I am hoping like hell that someone /else/ is doing some sort of management of people and vague coordination of manpower.. my expectation and assumption was that it was you, Merrisol, because you're good at it. I do tend to agree that having one person who has the big picture in mind and at least is managing the different branches of such an affair is often the most feasible, but it sounds as if you have that well in hand, Merrisol, and I've no desire to ursurp such a thing from your capable skills." Ryika gives a little shrug. "I just like to have some sort of grasp on what's going on when I'm expounding platitudes to try and encourage Meijanri and Mercier not to race off Right Now. My only task is to talk to Brand or Maggie, and ensure we're not breaking things." She glances over to Corwin and nods at the mention of trumping Brand. "I'll see about asking Maggie first."

Merrisol does look at Corwin this time, listening to his advice with an attentiveness coloured by bemusement. He might not grok the gentle ironies, but apparently he does manage to notice when someone makes statements so absurdly loaded. He nods a little as Ryika continues, his smile fading to a sigh. "I am keeping track of what needs doing, and how it will be done. That does about sum up the management end." Good At It? Ryika, you charming diplomat you. Looking pleased that things are once again moving in a forward direction, Merri makes to rise again. "As for timing.. we would want a cleared grounds to minimize the threat of harm to bystanders, so we will want to look at the six to eight hour interval between the midnight closing time and its re-opening the following morning."

"If you're struggling with the management end, I'd be /all/ too happy to lend a hand." That smirk dances back to Corwin's lips and he's flashing a quick wink in the direction of Merrisol before claiming another sip from his glass. His gaze drifts back over towards Ry, to give a bob of his head and a quick, "Maggie first, it is, then." And when his gaze begins to trak back to Merrisol, there's just an ever so slight cant of his head, "A rather obvious window of opportunity to make a move. Might be that they are even expecting such a thing to happen during that window."

"Right, next time.. Merri first /then/ Corwin." Ryika mutters softly with a quirk of a half smile and then nods to Merrisol. "Thanks for coming out here, I'm glad on a personal level that you've got things well in hand on the who and when and how." She opens her hands in a vaguely surrender gesture. "It is what it is on timing. Obvious? Yes. But for the sake of collateral damage, necessary. Having general Carnival attendees about would just ratchet this up into a messy nightmare of innocent bystanders."

There is a tint of puzzlement to his brows that will be hard to erase, as a few stray remarks and dancing smirks continue to ping around in Merrisol's mind, appropos of nothing and therefore some apparently private thing going on between Ryika and Corwin. To Corwin's sly criticism, Merrisol needs only flicker a glance to Ryika and offer an more emphatic nod. What she said, Princey. He nods politely to both in farewell. "Maggie is most likely still with... with Princess Miriam," he falters a moment, the sudden onset of discomfort helping him exit thereafter all the more quickly.





The fairgrounds encompass an elliptical area to the west of Rebma's military garrison, and generally south of the city. Anyone traveling to or from the city will see the swirling flags atop the gigantic snail shells - periwinkles, conches, ceriths, cantharus.. and tucked deep within a restricted staff-only zone, a singular whelk, its curved stalks above all else the only bits seen by roaming visitors.

Two weeks in and the Deep Menagerie is still raking in the numbers, although now, by night, admission ticket sales have grown. Word has spread to the deepest reclusive parts of the city, and up into mainland Amber, of the wondrous spectacle held every other night, the dazzling theatrical tale of The Last Kelpie. Approaching the fair, the group can feel the patternless hum in the very waters around them, the rippling of the crowd gasping, laughing, shrieking, from within the stadium pit where the show is going on right this moment. Coloured lights shoot upwards randomly as a mirror turns and flickers. And then.. the terrifying, whinnying roar of some fell beast rocks the air, and the screams from the packed stadium run from delight to horror. Those who have already witnessed a show know this is the point where the Kelpie has been unveiled to the paying spectators, and the Ringmaster Tallymander is about to subjugate the Mighty Oshan to do his bidding.

Miriam has managed to slip free of her guards for the evening. There might be sharp words at her about that later. And despite that it went SO well last time, she follows Merrisol back to the carnival. She has, however, bound up her silver hair in dark blue netting and instead of her usual silver clothing wears matching blue trunks. There is a long knife, sheathed and strapped to her calf.

Liya has her knives, lovingly made by Meijanri, and given to her by Maggie. They're at her waist, held there by a belt that is slightly incongruous with the blue bikini. Her hair has been braided and tucked up that way, but it too is tight against her head, out of the way, and allowing her freedom to swim as needed. She is with Kerf and Miriam, and does pause to say, very very softly, "The elephant Koi and the Kelpie are real. The rest are unnatural. I'm not sure if they are just transformed or if there's more but - the koi and kelpie are."

Meijanri swims along with Miriam, Liyandra and Merrisol, still uncharacteristically focused and grumpy. Clad in her immodest black scale bikini, she's chosen to wore one other garment tonight: the vambrace that acts as a scabbard for Leviathan's Song, her shatterglass knife. It looks for all the world like she wants to use it. Quietly she offers, "I think the kelpie is beyond our reach at the moment. The elephant koi isn't as bright but it is very big and very strong. We could use it to our advantage... but if you ask me, it's already suffered enough. I think we should let it go."

By the bright glow of the blow-fish lanterns along the lanes, it is nightfall, and the children and child-like have been run out of the carnival and sent off to bed. By night, the Deep Menagerie brings out its more illicit sights, of which the Kelpie stage show is the highlight. Amongst the usual fare of fortune teller tent and midway, there is the haunted mirror maze.. the red lobster races.. and of course, the Adult Attractions Arena, an enclosure made of black fishnet containing activities and sights not suited for the demure or chaste. The laneways are accordingly drained of pedestrians, as no random wanderer can resist the excitement of the feature stage at this thrumming, bellowing point in the tale's conclusion.

Merrisol himself is weaponless, and not because he had learned beforehand that Merri's Angels were already packing enough cutters to tear apart the whole Menagerie. He's got his rucksack slung across his back, however, and his costume is tailored from soft dark velvet kelp from the lightless deeps. When light passes over them, the surface ripples back details taken from the surrounding environment, like a poor man's cuttlefish. "There is about twenty minutes from this point before Oshan is sent back to her lair," he notes, then considers Liyandra's report, then Meijanri's prognosis of the Koi's Kondition. "Not yet, Meijanri.. it's not just a matter of springing open a cage door.. these creatures are all magically enslaved. If we try to forcefully remove them before the others remove the appropriate spell, the Manager and Nicola at least will be after us." He looks at Mei, swimming close and boldly reaching to lay his hand on her shoulder.. because this is serious touch time. "Please, Meijanri. I know the despair you feel to see them like this.. but this has to be done right, or the suffering will continue." He glances towards Miriam and Liya after a moment. "Liya.. work on the Battle toads? Mei, the Koi? And Miriam and I will take the Dobhar-chu." Because he is not letting the Princess out of arm's reach this time around.

Miriam has been on the quiet side, just watching what's around them and listening to the others. "I wonder'f th'Kelpie dreams..." she muses. "And if I'd be able t'understand it there. Or any of the others. And I wonder'f th'manager or Nicola prowl their dreams? It might be a safer way t'communicate." She looks curious, then. "Dobhar-chu?" she asks Merri.

Liya frowns a bit, and then she nods. "I can, sure, but they are not straight up animals. I don't know how well I'll be able to communicate with them, without talking out loud." She's a bit apologetic even, as she speaks, willing to help, but not sure how well that will work.

Meijanri scoffs at the word 'lair.' "I'm not going to spoil your plan. You know that," she retorts dispassionately. "I just meant later, when we do free them." She allows him to touch her but does not respond to it, her shoulder tense. "Assuming such a time ever comes, when we may act without being super extra triple-sure we're ready." The sarcasm does not suit her, but her frustration is palpable and a sharp tongue is preferable to insubordination. With a flick of her tail, she speeds on ahead to go find the elephant koi. Not that the beast is easy to miss.

Merrisol lifts his hand away before getting taken on a Magic Undine Ride, and he watches after her swift departure with a pensive tilt to his head. Shaking out of it, he says to Liyandra, "They aren't really giant muscular frogs, apparently, but they must be -something- originally. As long as that something is or was animal, wouldn't you be able to influence them? I'm afraid the only two with whom I've interacted directly were the only ones who have turned out to be exactly what they seem to be," he admits, his turn to be apologetic to Liyandra.

Miriam listens again to the others. She seems fine with staying close to Merrisol for all this.

Liya grins at that. "True. I can go see if I can chat with them, even if they're not animal. It's just whether or not they will keep our secrets, right?" Then there's a half shrug, and she says, "But I can definitely give it a shot." She smiles, reaches a hand to touch Kerf's shoulder. "Thanks, Kerf," she says, and then she heads out on her own.

Meijanri keeps low to the ground as she approaches, making careful and calculated movements between pieces of cover. Her head on a constant swivel, she scouts about for anything resembling food stores. Animals need to be fed, after all, and if there's one thing koi like to do, it's eat.

The Elephant Koi Ride is a crazily spiraling rollercoaster construction that is mostly cloaked on the outside except for sneak peeks through glass windows, through which one might glimpse the monstrous carp as it jets by with its passengers strapped in and screaming bubbles. By night the ride is shut down and the Koi occupies a tented structure about the size of a transport trailer. Its food pellets, made of compressed plankton, krill, and your basic seabed sludge, are stored in a great sack that used to be a whale's stomach, hollowed and leathered. Each pellet is roughly the size and heft of a bowling ball.

Merrisol nods to Liyandra simply, no doubt in his expression that they can win the trust of all creatures great and small. Once alone with Miriam, he starts moving along with her down the shadowy lane, sweeping his gaze around to take note of any unwanted attention directed their way. At one point, he says quietly, "Forgive me, Princess," and reaches around to hold her opposite shoulder, before launching forward into a fast swooping dive that spins them ahead until they are lost from view in the deeper shadows of a huge cerith shell. The sign above the barred entrance reads: THE SHY DOBHAR-CHU.

Miriam looks puzzled when Merri asks forgiveness, not understanding until they swoop and dive. There's a bit of a surprised squeal, but it's actually followed by a bit of a giggle. Apparently, the spinning's fun. It stops though, when they're where they're going and she looks into the huge shell. "Huh."

The Battle Toads showing occurs in the wide gaping mouth of an over-turned cantharus shell. By day, the hulking slippery brutes launch from their corners to tangle and tumble, crashing and tumbling about much to the cringing delight of the crowd. By night, the garishly decorated cavern is quiet and empty, and the weary combatants are off in the shadows.

Liya arrives at the battle toads' shell, glancing around. She is quiet and careful and swims with ease, ducking into the entrance to find... nothing. Well, that's totally not helpful! She looks around, sees nothing, and frowns. Okay, there's really likely only one place they could be, right? So she slips in slowly, letting her eyes adjust as she goes snooping where probably she shouldn't.

Meijanri selects two particularly delicious-looking bowling balls, one in each hand, and slowly approaches the trapped beast. Her voice is low and soft and soothing, "Hey you. I bet you're really tired after all that swimming. Here, why don't you have something to eat?" She carefully extends the first ball toward the creature's gaping fishymouth, her tail arched in an S for a quick getaway, should the koi decide to go for a decidedly fresher meal.

Merrisol could have dispensed with apologies and gone with 'SHUSH', but for some reason, he hadn't accounted for the Fun Factor. He releases Miriam once they have both settled into a crouch by the viewing 'window' of the critter housing. Intricate runes of some lost civilization (or perhaps they are utter nonsense!) are scrawled all over the concave walls within, glimmering faintly. There are plaster rock outcroppings all along the shell floor, to help the Shy Dobhar-chu remain partially hidden from viewers, because duh.. it's SHY. "About the dreams connection," says Merrisol, having given Miriam's question a long ponder en route. "If these are poor souls like Ai, I would suppose that they do dream. As for Oshan.. I.. am not sure how safe it would be for you to go there.. you'd be alone with her, and.." The stirring of a sinuous tail from behind one of the pseudo-rocks interrupts his musing, and Merri focuses on that, following it along to the bearded face, canine-like, that peers out of the gloom at these unexpected night visitors.

The Koi isn't exactly wedged in its trailer, but there is certainly no room to turn around. It must have been backed into the enclosure like a mack truck. The undercolour of its body is copper fading to pale peach, with a dappling of wine and rust along its back and tail. Two funny growths at the sides of its O-ring mouth, give hint of its slow forward movement, drifting and curling, then splaying backwards when Koi abruptly surges forward and employs a hoovering backdraft through its gills to pull one or both food balls out of Mei's hands.

Miriam nods slowly to Merrisol as she looks into the area housing the critter. "I'd probably be safer with Oshan'n Dream than awake. In some ways, I'm more comfortable there. It'd be easier t'get away, too." She thinks more as she looks intently to try to see the creature, and smiles a little as it peers towards them. "Also, if y'need t'talk the cursed people here into helping us when't all starts, I might be able t'help. I can be pretty convincing, when I believe something's important."

Liya slowly moves in, checking the shadows. "Hello?" she calls softly, concentrating and 'feeling' for anything out there. Because she's not entirely sure what she will find. But she doesn't stop, making her way bravely into the inner chamber, where she suddenly spies a bit of movement.

Meijanri startles at the sudden vacuum as the huge koi abruptly sucks in both chunks of food and placidly proceeds to squish them up inside its cavernous maw. The Undine moves closer to its side - best she can manage, really - and reaches through the bars to rub her hand tenderly along its flank. "You're going to get to go home real soon. I promise. No more screaming children kicking at your poor back."

The surfaces of the Battle Toad's arena are slippery with algae growth, but that may be the least of Liyandra's worries. She's basically wandering into the den of two massive gladiators with mouths that could swallow her whole! Tongues that could zot her into next Tuesday! Except.... when she 'sights' life signs, and ventures towards a private inner pocket beyond the gaudy fight ring, there they are, the two rabid warriors and bitter enemies - tucked and huddled into a cozy recess and curled around each other. Cuddling. Translucent lids peel back from big black shiny orbs, as one, then the other rouses and stares at her. Ruh-roh.. this is, uhhhhhh, awkward?

Liya wasn't really touching the walls, ceiling or ground, as she swam, so slippery they might be But they don't catch her. "Oh, uhm, hi," she says softly. She does send out soothing mental images, but she's not at all sure if they can even note them. "I'm sorry to wake you, but if you don't mind, can we talk for a bit?" Her hands come up, empty, just to show she's not meaning any harm.

The B-Toads make nominal movements towards exiting the nook, mustering up the ferocity they are supposed to display to the visiting public. Long sinewy limbs untangle and stretch out over the edges, while the hidden chamber rumbles with a rolling croak of aggression, followed by... a return to awkward silence. The urgency, the compulsion to act, becomes impeded with each peaceful reassurance the Sukhoti layers into their animal minds, although it is also clear the mystical conditioning can only by mitigated temporarily. Meanwhile the eyes stare and swivel, watching the intruder closely.

Merrisol listens to Miriam while not taking his eyes from the fang-toothed face of the Shy Dobhar-chu. It certainly looks like a 'Real' monster. He replies in an overly soft and engaging tone, so as not to spook the Dobhar-chu back into hiding. "I was hoping we could rally the actor troupe, and anyone else who can be persuaded to conspire against The Management.. which will be a much easier thing once they do not have to contend with mind control.." Or whatever else has them wrapped up against their will. "Shao-san had a rapport with the actors.. but he has become indisposed. Could you work with Mr. Templeton perhaps? He has a salesmanship skill set, it seems." Presently, he drifts a few paces forward, arms out from his sides and showing weaponless hands to the Dobhar-chu. His chest hitches as he growls something non-verbal to the creature. It champs its jaws, emits a few throaty coughs in response, and thumps the shell floor with its thick tail. Merri looks at it with interest. "This one will need to stick around the city when the enchantment breaks," he murmurs. "It's really only a sea otter."