To Tir, With Love

[rassafraggin]

Someone had to haunt the base of the mountain, in the hopes that Tir would show during this full moon. Miriam volunteered. A small tent was set up for her, and during the day she mostly stayed inside it. As soon as the sun started to set though, she came out to watch for the city. It's the second night of the full moon, and with the moon comes the silvery stair upwards. Of course, she immediately trumped Martin to bring all the rest to her so that they can begin their climb.

Already here, Shao has set a camp fire. A kettle is kept warm and on a spit, a piece of beef is being roasted, rotated once in a while by the Wave Dancer's former cook. In between turns of the meat, the Penglai is meditating, his eye closed.

Quinlan doesn't have a camp here. That would be...far too much space, too much work. But there *is* a little stone *hole*, big enough to hide a bookbag from all the elements, with a little room left over. Arcanis-shaped stone, and a little soft pad. Just the right size for a large cat, or maybe a smallish dog.

Maggie is handed through the trump contact by Martin to Miriam. She gives her Cousin-In-Law a quick smile and a squeeze of the hand in thanks. Stepping aside, she makes way for the others. Shao is given a wave as she moves closer to the stairs. Looking up, she misses the hole in the ground where a fox-sized animal could be hiding. Although wet from Rebma's waters, she is not terribly concerned by that fact. At this point, she at least had the foresight to be wearing her 'adventuring garb' and the gear that goes with it.

Martin is with Miriam, waiting to be ready to go up the stairs. He had a couple of calls with some people but mostly to do with things below. He has changed and is looking no worse for wear. And yay, he can have a cigarette.

Ruby makes her way to where the assemblage is supposed to meet, bearing a large pack slung over her back. Filled with promised contingencies. Her attire is snug about the middle and relaxed about wrists and ankles. A triple collection of her dreads are constrained and allowed to lightly flagellate her shoulders and cheeks if there's strong wind currents. She's a bit winded from travel but isn't complaining.

Merrisol is one of those bundled up against the elements in advance. But whilst he might not have given a second thought to romping up the mountainside, Queenie just does not see the appeal. She takes the trump option readily, appearing before her Grandson and Grandaughter-in-Law and displacing a lot of snow as she sinks into a nearby drift. Breathing in the thinned air with an expression of mild misgiving, she then forgets it all with a soft sigh of wonder -- from the first series of stone, rises the fae stairway into the brightened night sky, and far above, the limed rooftops and spires of the city in the clouds. "Let us ascend," she gestures for Martin to lead the way.

Miriam smiles to each of their company. Once all are assembled and Moire indicates that she is ready, Miriam turns her attention to Martin and prepares to start the climb. She's dressed for Tir rather than Rebma. Probably not surprising. "We'll be avoiding th'ghosts as much's possible." she reminds them. "They're still aggressive, to th'best of my knowledge. Hopefully th'way to th'palace isn't heavily policed right now."

Shao rises. He douses the fire with his small teapot. Since there will be no time for refreshments, he leaves the spit as is; someone or something will find it. The cups go in the teapot, the teapon in his rucksack. At his sash, he sets his tanto and his sword. "I am ready," he states, sharing his resolve through a sweep of his gaze at the others. Grabbing his staff, he hastens to get close to Merrisol.

From the stone den emerges a half-awake fox with two tails. Ears flick at the group, it yawns, stretches in a rather catlike way....rears up and there's Quinlan. "Hello everybody. This should be fun. Mostly been watching the city from a distance, trying to get a pattern to its appearances now it's less moon-tied."

Martin nods around and gestures for Moire to follow behind him. He too is ready for the elements. "Hopefully not." He agrees with Miriam. "Everyone stick together and don't wander off." He wasn't sure if Moire had ever been up to Tir before or not so he did smile at her as he started to ascend. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" He waves to Quinlan.

Maggie turns a grin over her shoulder at Moire when the wonder in her tone registers. "It is beautiful." Stepping to one side to let Martin, Moire, Shao and Miriam lead their group. Judging by the way she losens her sword in its sheath, and the nods both Quin and Ruby are given, she means to take up the rear. "Hello, all."

Miriam looks upwards and ahead as they climb, towards the city. Her forehead is furrowed slightly, and she's quiet. She may not be wearing her sword, as that is with Martin, but she is wearing one. Just in case.

Ruby readjusts her burden and then leans back to peer upwards. Steeling herself and popping a few joints along her spine in the process. Her eyes drop back down before dizziness starts.

When the moon is clear in the sky, it is possible to ascend the ghostly stairs into Tir-na Nog'th.
--[ Tir-na Nog'th ]------------------------------------------------[ Tir ]----

The ghost city in the sky.

Martin, Merrisol, Miriam, Prism, and Shao are here.

Down --> Atop Kolvir
Pattern --> Pattern Chamber

--[ setting, lhelp ]----------------------------------[ Exits: D Pattern ]----
Setting by Helix at Wed Jun 15 07:12:48 2011:
As of April 18th, 2010: The visions in Tir-Na Nog'th have come to life, not just for those with Pattern blades, but to various degrees, for everyone. Not all of them will be solid, or speak, but there may be occurrences of it. They will also be more violent than usual. (You might be able to sense more. Check '+queue/public'.)
As of June 7th, 2011 (update to March 18th, 2011): The ghosts that for a while seemed somehow more... organized, thanks to the presence of a Tir-ghost-Oberon occupying the seemingly real throne of Amber, have reverted to their regular behavior. There is sometimes still a Tir-ghost-Oberon in the throne room, but not always. The throne is just a regular ghostly throne now, like the rest of the Tir furniture, not the real throne of Amber.
As of June 8th, 2011: Tir has become even more changeable and erratic; there are even more of the solid sort of ghosts, and more of them are violent.
As of June 14th, 2011: There are now usually two ghostly thrones in the throne room. Sometimes, Tir-ghost-Faiella rules by ghost-Oberon's side.

It's about as long a climb up as it is a descent down the stair to Rebma. They're all in good shape, of course, so there isn't any dragging as they make their way to the city. It's spread out ahead of them once they reach the top, all shining and silver under the bright, full moon. There may be people in the city, but they seem to be alone as they walk towards it.

Martin looks about carefully, mainly checking for reflective surfaces. The last time he was here they got quite an eyefull of his future self. "Anything different you can tell?" He wonders at Miriam.

Quinlan doesn't bother with stairs, simply flying by Arcanis up to the cloud city. So much yet to test, to see. From his book bag comes a notebook and a pencil; notes on tonight's viewing, time the city appeared, state of the inhabitants...all data for the comparison charts, seeing if there is any, excuse the term, pattern to Tir.

Even if panting and sweaty, Shao is already at work. Finding the tube hanging from his rucksack, he deploys a rolled wad of paper and chooses a coal from a tiny box. He approaches a trembling hand to the paper. He takes in a deep breath and suddenly, all tremors are gone as he begins sketching in wide strokes, with confidence.

First time up. Ruby keeps her gaze on things immediately in front of her. Whether they be the back of someone's head or countless steps. After arriving and having more room to spread out some, she turns her bad eye towards the wonders first. Just in case there's a price. She makes a low sound in her throat as she opens the other to acquaint herself.

While the others lead the way, Maggie does take up the rear, keeping a weather eye out for trouble. Especially as some of her companions are drawing or taking notes or both. Silvery moonlight teases details from one walkway while casting deep shadows to obscure another. While those cast in sharp relief are beautiful, Maggie keeps her attention focused more on the obscured places. As they near the city proper, her level of attention hightens.

Moire walks with her usual deliberation, keeping her eyes on the prize, so to speak. Even a deep-dweller knows there are times when it just doesn't pay to look down. Then, standing in view of the shimmering splendour, she murmurs, "Somewhere in the Deeps, there is a Lost City, dreaming of Tir-na Nog-th when it leaves to become Real in the Sky." Striding slowly forth, she pauses to observe Shao's first impressions captured on scroll.

For the time being, Miriam is not glowing. They don't need it, and it might just draw attention to themselves. She also seems sure of their best path, leading not only towards the city but efficiently to avoid traffic as much as possible. Once near and then in, they of course can see the ghosts. Mostly, the glowing figures are simply going about their days. There are, though, also warriors who can be seen being run through official drills where there is room and where people can watch. It seems a mix of preparation for action and a show for the population. Apparently, there are plans for something being made. Whether it's Tir's plans or Amber's possible plans is unknown. When Moire comments on a mirror to this below, Miriam's eyebrows rise and she glances towards the Queen as though giving that real thought.

Quinlan flies along above and a bit behind the group; he's learned to stay out of sword-reach, it seems. Note-taking all the while, any changes this trip from last trip.

"The Lost City." Martin nods, "I've heard of it. We might want to add that to the list." He takes Miriam's hand and kisses her knuckles. He looks to Shao's drawings and looks up at Quinlan flying overhead. "Shall we look for mirrors in the palace? Vialle's art studio, or the pattern chamber itself?"

Shao's drawing outlines the broad details of what the moonlight reveals, the main structures and paths in their architectural glory. The Moon reigns atop of it all, a chiaroscuro trick making her look brighter than all the rest. The ghosts are unclear figures in pure light by design, made to look as if they are both standing still yet going to an unnamed destination or task. Shao shows it better to Moire for a moment then puts it at the back of his pile of paper, making ready for the next piece.

Ruby is not cool with the strange glowing figures. And she wants to shiver at whatever Moire is speaking of. That coupled with the unique environs, and it's a lot of strangeness. She double-checks how the strap of her pack presses against her shoulder. Taking a bit of comfort in those tangible sensations. She keeps her hands to herself.

From where she walks, Maggie notices Martin's gesture and she twitches the couple a smile that soon shifts toward Moire. While the smile does not fade, her gaze turns speculative and lingers until she realizes she is staring. Then she looks quickly around again. The glowing people, quietly going about their business are ignored after a glance or two. The military drills, though? She notices those. Keeping Quinlan in the corner of her eye (on a teeny tiny shelf!) she is able to monitor his progress as well as the others. The undersea city that dreams of Tir? She lifts a brow, then moves closer, "Might that be a potential source for building materials? The Lost City that dreams of Tir?"

When Martin takes her hand, Miriam smiles to him. He brings up mirrors then, and after a moment of thought she says "I doubt there's already a mirror in th'Pattern room. If we put one there somehow, others might try t'do something about't. It'd stand out too much. I suggest just finding th'one as close's possible to't. Because it won't look out've place. If any've you know offhand where th'nearest mirror is, in th'palace in Amber. Then we trump Vialle there t'prepare it and continue on to look at th'Pattern."

The attention of the locals seems to be mostly on the maneuvers. A few of the smaller children who's attentions wander are the ones who seem to notice the strangers, for some reason. They stare, silent and big-eyed and frowning. It might be a little unnerving, really. Perhaps more than a little. They don't speak, or try to pull away from their parents. They just stare in that 'You don't belong here' way.

Moire stoops her vessel slightly over Shao's work, and nods to him. "There are some areas of special interest which will require your visual treatment, Shao-san," she murmurs, "make sure to set paper aside for these: the Broken Chamber, the Sky Throne, the Sealed Wall. We will also require some fine portraiture of a number of spirits. The Princess shall attempt to find these in the Dreaming, where some more positive contact may be had." Straightening, she walks on, glancing down to Maggie at her side. "If one believes the City of Tir lost from the Sky for but one phase of the moon, then its essence may very well be found within Rebma for the duration," she nods. "Whether it is any more solid and malleable while there, I cannot say."

Quinlan notes, "There are mirrors all over the palace. They've covered them with cloths though. I know I saw one in the library."

"Yes, your Royal Majesty," Shao reassures. He slides a thumb across the thickness of his pile of paper, to show he brought way too much of it. "We must not forget to document what transpires here, for the sake of others." He must be thinking, paper will land safely, if for some twist of fate he does not. For his second drawing, Shao puts the focus on the ghosts themselves and their war preparations, putting the disapproving kids in the foreground, making sure their expression is unavoidable.

Ruby catches sight of children who are checking them out, and it she slots it into another handy cubbyhole of unnerving things that trouble her. Her brows furrow and her lips purse into a tight bouquet. Wanting to fold inward or go two dimensional. "This feels loike bold koind 'o trespassin. Worse than tiptoe unseen, this is. We ain't in danger, are we? I ain't scared 'o course. Nah. Just concerned for everyone else, Truth."

Martin does not get creeped out by creepy children. "Shall we go to the library then?" He nods at what Quinlan says. He spares Ruby a smile of encouragement and Shao. He seems troubled a bit by the maneuvers. "They cannot attack us." He tells Ruby. "We are not in danger yet." He does not bring up the fact that they had to flee Tir once.

Maggie looks up at Moire when she walks with her. Nodding, she shrugs, "Let's try the near Shadows first, then. At least I can be reasonably certain of finding those. The Lost Cities? Maybe not." Glancing up at Quinlan, she listens, then nods, "That might be the closest. I know there are no mirrors in the dungeons or in the antechamber just outside the Pattern..." Her voice drifts off as she, too, takes note of the stairing children, "Uh. Room." She tries a soft smile and a bit of a wave but does not linger. She does not want to frighten the creepy children. Even if shivers tickle up her spine all unseen.

Quinlan goes about counting the numbers of the ghosts that seem aware of the visitors. And then age, sex, apparent social class - anything at all that may be of use later. The god of spreadsheets shall weep later, truly.

Miriam starts to reply to Ruby, then Martin does. She glances at him, but doesn't contradict him about the ghosts and the level of danger here. Such a good wife. She just purses her lips, and continues to lead them towards the palace. And then into it.

This trip, the adult ghosts apparently can't see them and aren't solid. Just all the creepy children. None seem older than about five, and all turn to just stare at them in that big-eyed, frowny way. Fortunately, once they are in the palace there are many fewer children. And once in there, Miriam lets Quinlan lead them.

Martin adds, "Well, as long as we don't antagonize them."

Shao sets his sketching aside to rummage in his rucksack. A blue paper lantern is found and unfolded into shape, the oil vessel lit through some kind of trickery at the tip of his fingertips and the whole assemblage, he hangs at the end of a short bamboo rod that he slips at the mouth of his rucksack transversely, under the lid.

Which Quinlan can do! As this is another area of study. "Haven't really worked out how to transfer things into Tir-space yet," he admits. "Any rocks I bring here just fall to the ground when Tir disappears again. But I'm working on it."

When Moire feels the collective stare, she turns and gives those small people a long moment of kindly interest, like only an Alpha Grandmother can. Little darlings. She inhales the moonlit air and sighs a sort of pointed sigh. No pressure, Marty and Miri. None at all.

Ruby is momentarily distracted from her anxiety by watching Shao manipulate more items. The compactness and economy of the useful things has her showing her teeth subconsciously as her lips pull back.

Martin ushers the group along hurriedly, subconsciously swayed by the opinions of elders. They need to get to that library before anything untoward happens. Like children growing teeth and attacking them.

Miriam suggests "Maybe while we're here we should try t'pry some kind've flooring up with th'Sword, and see'f it stays where we put't? Or, just gouge part've th'floor in th'Pattern room with it, and see'f th'damage is still there next time?"

They reach the library, and the door opens to reveal... well, school is in session, apparently. Or a playdate. Something's going on. Seven heads look up from books, and look at the group. And frown. There are redheads, brunettes, blondes, and one boy with silvery-green hair. And all stare at them. The adult in the room seems entirely oblivious, though. Go ahead. Leave Vialle in here with them. Tir dares you.

Entering the Palace, Maggie pauses to hold the door for the others. Moonlight plays havoc with her hair, burnishing the reds to nearly blood-black in the shadows while silvering the crimsons where it touches. Once everyone is in and following Martin, she enters and lets the door close. The interior is, naturally, darker than the city beneath the moon. Maggie calles a spark to light her way. Sending it aloft, she lets Quinlan use it to add to his intel. Hurrying along after Martin, she glances into several of the rooms they pass. This does not last for whatever she sees within only adds to the strangeness of the evening.

"Since I can already hear the mocking laughter at the idea of either of you lending me the Tir-sword to do experiments with, yeah. Let's do that, while you're here," says Quinlan cheerily, as he leads the way to the goal. Pen and pad in hand, any new thing gets shorthand notes on his pages.

Somewhat shielded from the eerie lighting of the library by the blue hue of his own light, Shao almost stops when he encounters the seven stares. He tries to acquire eye contact with Maggie. Gone is the sheen of impassivity of the Penglai's, replaced by wonder and apprehension. Only Quinlan's contagious playfulness manages to break the spell and he remembers he too has to write down the sights, in his own way. He gets to it.

Martin nods to Miriam somewhat distractedly, "uh sure,we can try that," he replies to her. The children are creeping him out but also he kind of wants to know what they want. Quinlan gets a smirk. "I do have a thought. What if we were to leave something and see if we can find it again if we seek the Lost City. Should we try and talk to them? They're giving me the stink-eye, like somethings' my fault." Martin also looks around for a mirror.

Moire's eyes are ashimmer as she looms at the back of the group and manages a look into the large room when the door is open. Naturally, she fixates on the child with the most normal hair, studying him closely for familar features. Then, slowly, her gaze lifts to consider one of the redheads.

Miriam considers. "We can try talking t'them, but we have a lot t'do tonight. I think we should be grateful they're not being violent. Remember, these aren't really children. They're just twisted t'look like children." That boy with the silver-green hair might have just a bit of a glow about him. He specifically watches Martin and Miriam. Lucky them.

Martin is about to answer her when he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. The same reflection they noticed all those years ago. The scaled, green king with the Scepter of Moins.

Quinlan, keeping pace, finds the reflections intriguing. Whole new page of notebook gets filled doubletime.

He not a young man, this King who has Martin's eyes and face. He is weathered and with long hair and skin now as green as his grandmother's. In the background somewhere is a great purple dragon. The scepter is active and alive as it ever was in the, brilliant in it's terrible might.

Even though they are not human, or child or even shadows, Shao feels compelled to halt his drawing a moment to offer a formal kowtow to the group of Tir ghosts. Whatever to put them at ease, he will try. At the corner of his eye, he catches what Martin is looking at, the glass and his reflection. Turning a new page, Shao begins a new sketching.

Miriam's attention is drawn to that reflection as well, and she smiles first at it and then at the man reflected there. "That's a good look for you, my love." she says. "Since th'children seem content t'just stare, let's trump Vialle and Random here so she can get t'work, then head to th'Pattern."

Meanwhile, when that reflection is made in the particularly silvery mirror, those children stand, bow towards Martin, and then sit again. Most of them. The one boy doesn't bow, he just gives a cheeky grin that would not be out of place on either Martin or Random. Then, they all go back to their reading.

Shao's reflection shows a wiser, more refined man, clad in the printed and embroided silks of the traditional Jade. His white hair is flowing at waist length, his gaze calm, his smile benevolent, hands loosely holding a folded lacqered fan. Not that Shao would see it, for he stands at an angle to get the reflections of the others right. When the kids move to pay respect, he almost drops his coal. The surprise of it, perhaps.

Quinlan takes in the reflection, but there's no humorous quip there. Instead, Martin gets a momentary Look, a somewhat sad version of "Really? That's what you want?" before he goes back to his notes on the children, the room, and responses.

Since it's a reflection of his desire to be accepted by the Sea, it is what it is. Martin just seems unsurprised and gets out a trump to get his father and mother here.

Martin makes sure Random and Vialle are set up in the library where there is a mirror ready for Vialle to work with.

At the appearance of Random and Vialle, Shao takes a step back and bows deeply and sustains it. Force of habit in reminescence of them once occupying the throne. Drawing of the library is then resumed in silence.