#yakshagarden

[multisuperfluity]

The adventure continues with @yaksha-garden

It had been hard to hear the approaching footsteps over the sound of the rain hitting every nearby surface, but the boy had seen the feet of the stranger before they lifted the leaf. He didn't know what to expect there in the forest, and maybe he should have been a little more cautious, but he smiled at them.

Which might have been a little more convincing if he hadn't been wet, hair stuck to his head and shirt in need of a wringing out. But overall he was okay, just a little uncomfortable.

"Well, that's a long story. And you might not believe me if I did tell you." He was only being honest. He didn't know how other worlds were with interdimentional travel or those who accidently got caught up in it, like himself. "But I promise I'm not here to cause trouble or anything."

[askrossiel]

(continued from here for @yaksha-garden)

Rossiel nodded and made sympathetic noises as she listened to their complaints, working open a sleeve of biscuits with a deft motion of her long harper's fingers and tipping the sweets out onto a plate to share.

"More trouble than they're worth, I'm sure." She plucked up a biscuit for herself and nibbled at it thoughtfully for a moment. "Then again, I can't say I've ever had a cult -- with or without the sex -- so I suppose I wouldn't know."

[rejectshumanity]

@yaksha-garden | continued from [ x ]

shadows blanket the vampire's expression, though his cadence betrays an audible grin. how nice of them to comply without creating a fuss.

❝ eden, ❞   he greets warmly, letting the rich, dulcet tones of their name linger for one moment too long.   ❝ i have a favor to ask of you. ❞

[eritvita]

continued from x ;

@yaksha-garden

His face is naught the face of humanoid, tonight: a furred snout, the black, wet nose of a cervine in the midst of hearty Spring, and the fluttering ears of the Stag art performed to resemble and match his own, flowing horns, and immaculately and miraculous dost Roland’s eyebrows bounce in thrice, clasping at their painted hand warmly.

He places his other hand upon their waist in a chaste move, and doth borne to spin them, bouncing along the beat of skin-drawn drums and jaunty flutes made of raw quartz.

He beams, his teeth grown from the flat molar to the gleaming sharpness of predatory growth, borne for chipper amiability to frame Himself. “‘Tisn’t rude at all! I am Roland,” offers he freely, and his long coat sweeps betwixt the white hose upon Roland’s shapely calves. “Art thou Fae, new Being? Or of a freed dryad ready to confirm their Form as 'pon their naked Feet? Whom art thou?” inquies he curiously.

[deaddoveadventures]

Eden wordlessly gives him an unlabeled bottle of suspicious liquor. "Don't tell Vayu." [@yaksha-garden]

Curumë side eyes Eden but takes the liquid with a nod, and a grin on his face. “I probably won’t”, he says, and winks. Then, he inspects the bottle before sipping on it, out of sheer curiosity.

[anithikos]

@yaksha-garden sent :: 💿[Eden, for Gideon or Kipling, whichever the song fits better] :: send me a 💿 and i'll shuffle my music and write a starter based on the first song i get!

"I like to wear my human skin outside, in disguise," Kipling teased, pint glass outstretched in a toast. He downed the dark, sanguine tinted Guinness like it was water. He'd spent many nights at the bar with a dark brew in hand, and now multiple beside the not-quite-a-stranger.

Face down was the latest copy of the Nova Tribune, stained with rings of condensation and droplets of water and beer. Despite having the front page story, he wasn't satisfied.

"But that's what journalists do. We're all ambulance chasing tragedy hounds at our core, and so are the people that buy this schlock. We're a whole society of rubberneckers."

[bxtsence]

Eden hasn't known Rowan long enough to know what the perfect gift would be for him, but if you want they'll send a lotus-scented card. ~@yaksha-garden

@yaksha-garden

[ ✞ ] - ❝ Well… Thank you very much. ❞ He takes a sniff of the card, nodding in subtle approval. ❝ It is quite appreciated. ❞

[multisuperfluity]

Continued with @yaksha-garden and Tala!

— ☽○☾ —

Amber eyes narrowed at the other. Tala couldn't have cared less about the state of the place, it wasn't hers just a shelter she had found to keep out of the rain, but what she did care about was the other's willingness to just barge in and make a scene. The wolf had attacked first she would admit to that, but it was out of self-defense (or so she told herself).

And she may have been in her human form, but Tala's fangs and claws were prominent as she scoffed, nearly snarled. "I didn't stutter. Why are you even here? Why are you still here? Haven't you caused enough trouble?"

[askrossiel]

💤

"Don't put the trout... in the ice cream maker..."

[askrossiel]

Once Eden's recovered just enough to get out of the mud, they go and come back with breakfast for two: poached eggs, numerous pieces of luchi (think fried, puffy flatbread), and two bowls of a spicy potato-lentil-chickpea stew. "My other half's hangover special. To the new year, I suppose, and apologies for the mess." [@yaksha-garden]

Rossiel tucks into her portion with a pleased little sigh. "Give him my praises-- it's all marvelous, and shall make the mess... somewhat easier to face."

[eritvita]

He snickers to himself, giddy like a child. His handsome brows dost bounce in thrice. "Curiosity is a blessed Thing. I am a Poet," confers Roland, and beams brighter than the Father Sun.

"Here," says he, and meanders his elbow within Eden's grasp to confer with his hanging satchel, that leather bag what always hangs upon Roland's person; flipping the flap to dally with the covered tomes and scrolls artfully nudged inside.

With a squawk of sublime happiness, he pulls out a book, borne of dark leather and heat-pressed gold writing. The Eaves of the Stag, catcalls the tome, and brook'd author of Roland's singular name beneath. He hands it to them, beaming in his proud dimples. "'Tis an eon of Poetry and the metaphysical ramblings of the Deer, and all else, throughout humankind's delicate nuance of biological and esoterical History."

Eden gives him a knowing smile and a giggle, swaying in time to stay leaning in. "Perhaps it was another dreamscape... in any case, it was one of the more opulent parties -- one of the boring ones, at that, at least from what I remember. You'd think they'd have more room to be extravagant, especially in a dream!"

They paused. They slowed in their gait, leaned back to give Roland a bit of space without letting go of him, and tilted their head with a new glint of curiosity in their eye.

"I do not recall reading anything written by you, that I know of," they say. "But you've got me curious now."

[askrossiel]

"Rossiel my dear friend!" Eden hands over a nice glass bottle with no label and gin of suspicious quality in it. "I've made something for the occasion. Will you share it with me?" [@yaksha-garden]

"Well, now, I cannot turn down an opportunity for merriment with a friend!" Whether she would have regrets upon sampling the aforementioned questionable gin was yet to be determined.

[askrossiel]

🎁 for Eden? [@yaksha-garden]

In the parcel for Eden is a set of tea-mugs that have been designed to look like planter-pots (complete with overhanging leaves and tendrils painted in the glaze.)

[askrossiel]

"No I have never had these, you must remember I'm not an American. Or your kind of elf, despite our similarities." [from Eden, @yaksha-garden]

"Ah, you are in for a treat. The mortals of this country call it 'puppy chow', but it is simply a crispy corn-and-wheat cereal coated with a chocolate and peanut-butter mixture and dusted with confectioner's sugar. I was apprehensive too, but it tastes better than it looks, trust me!"

[askrossiel]

[ soup ] knowing receiver is sick, sender brings them a bowl of hot soup [from Eden, @yaksha-garden]

“When I am under the weather, everybody hears about it, I guess…”

All the same, the blanket-cocooned Elf who had established her nest on the sofa received the bowl gratefully. She puffed steam away from a spoonful to sip at. “It’s perfect; thank you.”

[askrossiel]

"I promised to meet you when the ashes cleared, for one final round of combat to decide both of our fates. Well here I am."

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

[@yaksha-garden :P]

Rossiel flopped dramatically onto the couch with a theatrically-wounded cry. "I am mortally-booped! To Mandos shall I go, and my valiant deeds be recalled in the tapestries of Vairë!"

After raising her arm to tap Eden gently on the nose, she went limp with a "Blaaaargh!" (Though, of course, she did not use her full ability to feign death-- the skill would have been concerning to witness, rather than playful.)