Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose….

From Lira:

I only speak French because of my lexicological permanence. I am also lexicologically enhanced to understand Latin, Greek, Enochian, Aramaic, Hebrew, Russian, several varieties of Demifae Cant, Scots Gaelic, Irish, Welsh, Cornish, Manx, Polari, and I don’t know what-all else; suffice it to say that my chimeric lexicon is vast; I have only rarely come across a manuscript I could not read, and then it’s mostly a matter of figuring out what it’s close to, doing a bit of etymological graphing, and then connecting the dots. Don’t worry if that sentence didn’t make any sense: I don’t expect natural folk to understand chimerical things, even though many natural folk are surprised when I do not understand natural things.

Wow: I just went on about my chimeric lexicon for a whole paragraph. Are you still there? Oh, good. I mean, obviously the ‘you’ to whom I’m speaking is a construct. I suppose I could use ‘dear gentle reader,’ but then people would know I spent most of last week bingeing Bridgerton on Netflix whilst I was in Nu Jyorck doing some research on Ormr thunders in Raid Times.

After that, I knew I could relax, because I would be going home. Home to my perfect treehouse, and my outdoor tub, and my garden, and all my books.

‘This isn’t my house,’ I said as the DracoCab landed in front of a completely unfamiliar structure. ‘This isn’t even my neighbourhood.’

‘This is The Story,’ replied the dragon. ‘That’s the address you gave; this is where I drop you off.’

I fidgeted. ‘Well, the sign looks familiar,’ I conceded, ‘but nothing else does.’

‘It’s the only one that came up on the RPS,’ said the dragon. ‘And,’ he continued, using what I could only assume was his superior night and distance sight, ‘there’s an envelope with your name on it, right there propped up on the sign.’ When I still didn’t move, he said, ‘Look. I’ll even wait here while you read whatever’s in that envelope, and we’ll take it from there, OK?’

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Sure.’

‘I thought you told me we were going to live in a treehouse?’ Slaine the cat seemed none too pleased.

‘I never said we were going to live anywhere,’ I countered. ‘Do you remember the part where I mentioned that you are not, in fact, my cat, that I have never had a cat, that I live with a surly and not very smart owl who would consider you a tasty meal?’

‘I said I’d wait for you to read whatever’s in that envelope,’ the dragon broke in. ‘I did not say I’d wait while you bickered with the snack there.’

Slaine hissed. I thought about hissing, too. I’ll have to teach myself how to do that. ‘All right; all right,’ I said, and hopped down from the passenger saddle.

I waved the Dracocab off, because, sure enough, inside the envelope was a set of keys, a list of builders, electricians, landscapers, and local takeaways, and a short note from TAC, which just said:

Yeah, things change, kid. Economy’s tough all over, and the DDS merged with DAD (Dragon Antidefamation Department) last week. I did send you an email, but got no reply. We’ve sold off some properties, including the one you were occupying, but you can do your job just as well from here. I’m sending you on a CCR course next week, as some of your duties will now be under the DAD umbrella. You might have a housemate eventually, but I’m arguing against that. Ring me if you need clarification; I’m on my mobile.

TAC has really bad handwriting. A housemate would be a disaster: I do not play well with others, or that’s what Ari always said.

Still, it’s better than living in a box. I keep getting these intrusive thoughts from The Author, who seems to be catastrophising about ending her days in a cardboard box underneath some kind of a massive bridge lately. Apparently, she is pretty old and starting to consider her life choices—too late, if you ask me—I mean, who wants to end up in a box under a bridge like some kind of cranky troll?

Anyway, I fitted the key into the lock, and Slaine and I (she really wasn’t getting the message, was she?) wandered into the new house.

Well. There were boxes everywhere. The porch had seemed reasonably finished: it had a little patio set and some rocking chairs, plus a really nice hammock. Inside, it was chaos. Like I said, boxes everywhere. At least the kitchen fixtures looked somewhat finished, but the only other furniture in the house was a couple of occasional chairs and a very beautiful decorative dresser (I checked the labels on these, and they are from Moss & Luna, which put a satisfied smile on my face: at least TAC hadn’t completely ignored my improving taste.

I know the moths that M&L designer Melora Frost incorporates into her designs are meant to have something to do with death (I think: should look that up), but they are beautiful, so I don’t mind so much. I’m actually not even sure that chimerical beings can die. I certainly don’t seem to be ageing, but then again I’ve only been around for three years, and I do not know if folk age much in three years. I should research that. Or maybe I shouldn’t. Anyway, it looked like they had put one of The Author’s pictures of Gallerie Gaillard up in that corner of the room (A ‘sitting corner’! that’s what I’ll call it.), but I blinked and it changed. Great. It’ll probably be days before I get to see it again.

Elsewhere in the house, there was a surprising lack…well, of anything. I drew out my mobile phone to ring TAC, and I had no signal. No net either. Great.

“There’s a phone on the wall, Lira,” Slaine said. Little know-it-all.

“Phones don’t go on walls,” I said vaguely. “They go in your handbag, if you don’t have pockets.” I always have pockets.

She batted me with a paw. No claws this time. “Just look,” she said. “Really; I’m surprised you can do anything on your own.”

I looked at the strange device. “This is a phone?”

“It is.” Slaine cleaned a paw and started grooming her face. “You aren’t old enough to remember things like this, but the reason it has a long cord is so you can sneak out onto the porch to talk dirty to all your boyfriends.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t have any boyfriends,” I said. “I don’t want any boyfriends.”

Cats can apparently sigh. “Literalist,” she said. “Pick up the black thingy off the other black thingy and then press the buttons to call who you want.” She eyed me. “It’s probably magical, so expect it to be a phantom black thingy.”

I repeat: little know-it-all.

There weren’t any buttons. “Hey, Lira,” came TAC’s gruff voice. “I see you found your way inside; that’s great. How’s the place looking?”

“There’s no furniture.”

“Now, I know that’s not true,” she replied. “I put the dining table in myself. Rest of the stuff’s had to come by Slo-Boat, and Meowgan is a bit behind schedule, but I’m sure you’ll see it in a few days.”

I swallowed. “Where,” I asked, “am I expected to sleep?”

Her sigh felt like it echoed straight into my brain. “There’s a nice hammock on the porch? Get Uggla to help you build a nest or something. I’m sorry: I can’t make Slo-Boat move any faster.”

“Uggla is away for mating season, and, wait, you might know this. How do I get rid of an unwanted cat?”

“Rude,” said Slaine.

The Catwoman’s laugh was clipped to a couple of hahas. “Couple of things there. First, you don’t. Second, something about cats, dude. You’ll eventually come to believe that having not just a cat, but this cat in particular, was all your idea. And hey, what’s that eyeshadow you’re wearing? I really fancy it.”

I jumped half a metre. OK, that was hyperbole. But I was startled. I looked around madly. That was not hyperbole. “Are you—can you see me?”

“Of course I can, you muppet. All our sites are fully surveiled for your protection and ours. Surely you saw that in your contract when you signed it?”

I swallowed again. Good thing the fridge appeared stocked: I was going to need a drink after this call. Maybe I hadn’t read the fine print? Oh, there was an anxiety attack coming. I heard a sharp whinny through the window. “Oh, nice! One of the neighbours must have horses,” I said.

“Nope; that’s Dorcha. He’s your horse now,” TAC replied.

Suddenly I was OK with sleeping on a hammock, even if I woke up with a very large, fluffy cat on my face. “You got me a horse?” I squealed.

“Ow! Give a girl a migraine, why don’t you,” TAC said. “You were spending so much in livery rentals in Fantasseria we did the numbers and decided it’d be cheaper to get you your own. He’s a six-year-old Icelandic gelding, and his name is Dorcha.”

“Dorcha,” I repeated. I think this is what folk mean when they say I was over the moon. “Is that Scots…”

“Gaelic for dark, yeah,” said TAC. “You can probably rename him if you want; most breeders lose their name imaginations after eight or nine generations. He’s very young, so a new name might even take.”

“Dorcha,” I said again. “No, no; it’s fine. It’s perfect. I stretched the cable (another thing Slaine was apparently right about, damn it) so I could see him through the window.

“Don’t trip on the cord,” TAC advised. I’d almost forgotten she could see me. Until then.

I ignored it, because I could see him through the window. “He’s beautiful,” I said softly. “Oh, I can’t wait to get to know him. That’s a gloriously painted coat.”

“I took him to that lady at Lunistice you like so much for the coat painting,” TAC admitted. “I knew settling in to a new place was probably going to be… a challenge for you, so I thought I could soften the blow a bit this way. Tack is in the shed; he won’t need an enclosed stall or anything. He’s quite gentle, I found. And of course he’ll be welcome in Awenia, when you’re ready to go back.”

“Have you told her?”

“I told her ages ago, Lira. It’s not like we don’t talk. We just don’t have as much in common as we used to when we were kids.”

TAC sounded a little sad, and I wanted to ask her about that: was Her Fae Majesty once a child? Is that how this happens, even to faery queens? It was a lot. “And she’s not…angry with me?”

“Of course not. Ari is a little vexed, but she’s learning,” TAC replied. “And Gwyneth has been off doing some outreach project since practically the minute she got home from Faire, so really you have nothing to worry about. I’ve explained that you are learning all sorts of new skills and will be even more valuable to Awenia when you return.”

“OK,” I said. I felt hollow just thinking about it, though. Would I still be able to travel? Or would I be living in the library like before? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know.

“Listen, I’m doing a little … work for a big birthday event,” TAC said. And I could actually hear noise in the background. “Let me let you go for now, since it’s about to get loud here, and I will come round next week to check on you?”

“OK,” I said again. Yeah; I was feeling really hollow now. I looked out the window and Dorcha was looking in the window, and it was like we saw one another for the first time, and I felt this little, I don’t know, dizzy thing happen in my chest. “I am going to go out and meet Dorcha,” I said. “Have fun at your party. Bye.”

And then, after some searching around, I found that the only back door was through a large atrium that it looked like someone had actually tiled with plants. That would need further investigation, I decided.

“Somebody’s twitterpated,” said Slaine. I reached down absently to scritch her head, and she moved her head up into my hand like she knew it belonged there.

“Be glad I like you,” I said. “I could still decide to let Uggla use you for hunting practice.”

“You would never,” she said, and there was a bit of humour behind that.

“Of course not, Slaine my love. Let’s go meet your new brother.”

And that was the beginning of my first day in the new Story. I was still not thrilled about sleeping in a hammock, but I was pretty sure I was going to like it here.

Notes & Credits

(Sponsored items are noted with a “*”)

Featured:

Those far-seeing and yet compelling eyes? Hexumbra, of course. The Ondine Eyes* are at Wasteland, for another few days. absolutely worth the trip, and unlike other ‘milky’ eyes, there’s definitely an eye underneath.
That eyeshadow TAC wanted to know about? It’s also from Hexumbra, of course, the Enslee Eye Makeup. This was a Slepnir’s Sleigh gift for group members last December, but I love its vibrant colours; it’s perfect for any time of the year.
Yeats Quote Chest Tattoo: Safe For Mortals, Dancer. It’s not in any shop or on Marketplace, but if you IM me in world I’ll tell you how to get a copy.
The absolutely stunning skin: EnLight, Jon. This beautiful, slightly androgynous skin is EnLight’s creation for Pride this year, and there’ll be another post featuring it in the next few days. It’s at Uber until the 22nd of June.
Slaine is as always expertly portrayed by CKit Falconry’s gorgeous Maine Coon Brown Tabby* You can get one of your own at the CKit Falconry Main Store.
Earrings and choker: Witchlings, Hamsa choker & earrings. They’re available at the Witchlings Main Store.
Where did Lira get that fabulous dress? OK, OK, I’ll tell you. It’s from Belle Epoque, which should surprise no-one, and it’s called Alix. It’s at the still-feels-new Belle Epoque Main Store.

Other Fancy Stuff:

Bracers: Druken Brokkr, Arkadhr Sleeves
Silver Chest Tattoo: Nefekalum, Thisbe
Glasses: RandomMatter, Danica Glasses
Face & Ear Tattoos: Angelicus, Lynn
Hair: No Match, No Goodbye
Tights and Flowers: Silk Road, Dreamcatcher Tights With Flowers
Shoes: Utopia Design, Coco
Lira is styled on a Legacy Classic body and a Lelutka Raven EvoX Mesh Head.

On The Set:

Back Garden

Dorcha: Teegle, Icelandic horse
- Horse Coat: Lunistice, Moonlit Fog
Horse Shed & Hay Bales: Lore, Old Hay Shed
Hedge: Love, English Hedgerow
Gate: Harshlands, Secret Garden Gate

Front Garden

Grass: Sweet Revolutions, 4 Seasons Short Grass
Path from pavement: Dust Bunny, Flagstone Path
Path Edgers: The Looking Glass, Pride, Garden Path Edge
Sign: full perm from UR on Marketplace and textured by Gwen Enchanted
Rocking Chairs: Moss & Luna, Emberhearth
Flags: All from Flawless Flags
Froggy: Sir Croakwell was part of the Second Life Spring Premium and Premium Plus gift
Kenku: Studio Dire, Kenku Plush, affectionately named Heks after a lovely friend of mine
Sheepies: Pitaya, Garden Sheep
Lights: All from Lumina

Inside