The Amazing Catwoman: A History

The Amazing Catwoman:

The Amazing Catwoman:

So I had this chat with Dyisi, who is a Satyr. I’d never met a Satyr before, let alone a female one: I don’t think they really tell you about female Satyrs in school mythology, although I guess there have to be some, else where do the baby Satyrs come from? Not that you ever hear about baby Satyrs either, come to think of it.

Anyway, Dyisi had obviously been conscripted by her to tell me what a bad little elf I’d been. I listened less than patiently while she explained to me about paradoxes and some shit like that. She caught me at a bad time: after the whole ‘guard this event’ business, I’d wandered off as far into the Unseelie part of the forest as I possibly could, because I was having a problem.

See, I spend most of my life glamoured to the hilt. And all through that event, my glamour kept wavering, and it didn’t seem like there was much of anything I could do about it. After the event, I couldn’t hold it at all, so I ran off because I didn’t want anyone who was at that event, certainly not the Queen’s Consort of the Captain of her Guard, to see me as I was … as I am.

As I am. What a funny phrase that is. “As I am” has changed so much over the last three years.

My birth name is Astrid Fenella Tacey Wallin.

My birth name is Astrid Fenella Tacey Wallin.

My birth name is Astrid Fenella Tacey Wallin. My dad’s Swedish and my mum’s English. I have an older sister, Fiona. I have three  first names because each member of the family gave me one when I was born. Astrid from my dad, Fenella from my mum, and Tacey from my sister, who was three at the time and might have been trying to say “Stacey”, but nobody’s sure. Anyway, my mum  looked “Tacey” up: it is a real name, just really uncommon, and it means “quiet”. Fuck that.

This picture here was taken on the best night of my life, two weeks before everything changed. My fiancée, Kevin, took the picture. It was right after he became my fiancée. You can’t see the rock in this picture, but never mind that: he took rock pictures after we got back to his place that night.

In rock picture number one, he made me laugh.

In rock picture number one, he made me laugh.

In rock picture number one, he made me laugh. “What? I said. “You want me to just point to the ring and smile or something?” I hate it when he catches me laughing, because I don’t like how small and squinty my eyes get when I laugh, so I asked him to take another one, same pose, without me laughing.

Here's that one. I like it a little better.

Here’s that one. I like it a little better.

He is a really good photographer: he is … was … studying it in uni. I don’t know where he is now. After what’s happened to me, I can’t imagine he’s dead. But maybe he is. There was a lot of blood.

Even though it doesn't show the rock, this is my favourite picture anybody has ever taken of me, ever.

Even though it doesn’t show the rock, this is my favourite picture anybody has ever taken of me, ever.

Even though it doesn’t show the rock, this is my favourite picture anybody has ever taken of me, ever. In some pictures, you have to pretend you look good. But I think he made me beautiful in this one.

And these photos, plus my beautiful engagement ring with the amethyst and the zirconia, are the only things I have left of my old life.

It was Gwyneth convinced me to get into LARPing, and I’m glad she did, because without the LARP, I’d never have met Kevin. And I liked the dressing up bits of it. I was never into the fighting stuff: I mean, they taught me some archery once and I was rubbish, so I just never went any further with it. I was happy to be  Kevin’s wench and dress up in cute fantasy clothes that made me look prettier than I am. Sometimes I got to dress up as his slave girl: he always liked that. It was only a game, though: I’m much too cheeky to be a slave, really. And I had one useful talent: I was in massage school at the time, so I could offer massages for goods and services, which usually went over well with the kind of people you sometimes meet at LARPs—computer guys who spend their weekends pretending they’re in a fantasy novel. I know it’s a cliché, but I’m sure some of them didn’t know many girls, I guess, would be the polite way to put it.

But anyway. Gwyneth and I grew up across the street from one another, and we’ve been … we were … best friends for as long as I can remember. We went to the same school, but in secondary school we went to different places. I always knew she was way smarter than me, but when everything changed, she was in the process of becoming a university professor like her parents. And I was in massage school. I guess it was an unlikely friendship.

Enough about that, though. We were on our way home from this big LARP, the last event of the summer, put on by this huge LARP conglomerate called Shining Lands. It’s basically like a big campout, only we hate camping so we stay in the lodge, with lots of role-play and a pretend war, and lots of guys in armour they made themselves. The costumes are brill. Last big party of the event is this big charity auction to benefit Shining Lands and enable them to rent spaces and put on other events. Gwyneth always made something for it—she’s a keen knitter—and Kevin would auction off a photoshoot in character or something. Richard, I don’t know what Richard did. Emma was kind of new to LARPing and just along with us for the ride. Anyway, I’d dressed up in this metal bikini getup with a collar and armbands, and I’d got a good price for a series of massage treatments over the next six months, as long as the winner was based in London. That poor guy who spent £300 to get massages from me must have been pretty pissed off when he heard the news. And why am I even worried about him? I don’t even remember his name.

I remember being pissed off because as we got into the car Gwyneth whispered to me that Richard had (finally) kissed her. I was like, “Why didn’t you let me take a picture of it?” I was always doing that: taking candid shots of people doing what they do. I used to get lectured about bringing my iPhone into events, but fuck them. It’s play. I play with my iPhone. I didn’t have time to bitch at her, because we had to leave the carpark in a hurry or get charged more. So I pulled a pair of jeans and a t-shirt over the metal bikini and played car boot Tetris for as long as I could stand it, then just told them to throw shit in the back of the MPV and we’d sort it later. I was right pissed off that they hadn’t done the packing earlier, but blah blah blah. Nobody listens to Fen.

We were heading for the M11. We got to the merge and everything was fine. Richard and Gwyn were arguing about who got the best stuff at the rialto, Emma was reading a book, and Kevin was handling the satnav. I don’t know how I didn’t see the lorry, but we must have been in each other blind spots or something, because he barrelled in to us at full speed just as I was about to complete the merge. The MPV went over on its head and there was a shitload of glass. Kevin wasn’t moving, and I was having trouble breathing, and there was some sort of a scuffle in the back seat: I don’t know what that was about. I was trying to get the damn window down so I could crawl out, but then, I don’t know. It was like my lungs were filling up with water, and I couldn’t breathe, and then everything went dark. The last things I remember hearing were loads of car noises, honking, some sirens in the distance, and Richard screaming Gwyneth’s name over and over, telling her not to get out of the car. Then, everything went black and I felt really floaty, and I heard this voice, like in the movies when Jesus calls people to heaven or something, only it didn’t say, “Welcome my child,” or any such bullshit as that.

It just said, “Svart Alfar”.

I remember pain, like I fell on something spiky, but only bruised myself. And I don’t know how long I was out.

When I came to, I was on some kind of camp bed in a bright room—the light hurt my eyes, I remember.

When I came to, I was on some kind of camp bed in a bright room—the light hurt my eyes, I remember.

When I came to, I was on some kind of camp bed in a bright room—the light hurt my eyes, I remember.

“I think she’s coming around.” A deep voice, an unfamiliar accent.

“Pity. I was hoping she’d bought it during the night.”

“Shari, it’s a big room. We all have to share. You’re sharing it, full stop.”

There was a sigh from the other end of the room. I uncurled slowly—everything hurt—and opened my eyes.

Shari was a tiny thing.

Shari was a tiny thing.

Shari was a tiny thing—I thought even I could take her in a fight—and her room looked like some boarding school princess bedroom, with the fancy computer and the pretty pictures and the loft bed with fairy lights.

I squinted and tried to focus a little more clearly on Shari.

I squinted and tried to focus a little more clearly on Shari.

I squinted and tried to focus a little more clearly on Shari. Was she… her eyes were funny. And her head seemed too big. And she had ear cuffs on that made her ears look pointy, and her hair was half blue and half blonde. Wow, talk about your fantasists. She’d have been a big hit in LARP-land, I thought.

“Your name, Svart. What’s your name, and who do you work for?”

“What?” I continued to squint toward Shari.

“OK, let’s get some things straight, right off the bat,” Shari said.

“OK, let’s get some things straight, right off the bat,” Shari said. “This is my room. You are here because I am a nice person and I am letting you share it. That is your corner. The rest of the room belongs to me.”

I ignored the guy’s question and nodded at Shari; she seemed to have the authority, at least in this room.

“Your name, Svart.

I tried to speak. My mouth was so dry. It came out “Mumble, mumble, Tacey Willan mumble, London, United Kingdom.” My voice was getting clearer with each word. “And what the living fuck is a Svart?”

“You are, you lying sack of shit, and we need to know who you work for and how you found our safe house.”

I blinked a couple of times. The only thing in my limited field of vision was Shari and her fairy bed.

“She’s got no idea,” Shari said.

“She’s got no idea,” Shari said. She hopped off the stool and stood beneath the fairy lights. “Great, we’re in some kind of fucking soap opera where beautiful dark elf chick comes to us with no memory and ends up being the saviour of the world or something.”

A sigh from somewhere to my left. The guy again. “Shari, shut up.” He cleared his throat. “Tacey,” he said, testing the name. I never use that name, but fuck it. “Tacey, what happened? Did someone drop you here? And if you don’t mind my asking, are you a runaway slave or something?”

I actually laughed at that—my first post-wakeup laugh. “Costume,” I said. “For a charity auction.” I didn’t think he needed to know more than that. “There was an accident. I need to get back to my friends.”

“No sign of an accident anywhere around here,” said the guy. “Look, my name’s David, so now you know that. I’m the security guy here.”

I stood up weakly.

I stood up weakly.

I stood up weakly, nearly lost my balance a couple of times. “Steady there,” David said. He held out a hand for me, but I refused to take it as an afterthought: reflexively though, my hand shot out. And then I saw my skin.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked. “Am I covered head to toe in bruises?” I started looking at my legs, my feet. All this silvered grey colour, with dappling in spots, almost iridescent in the light.

“You’re a Svart Alfar, idiot,” Shari said derisively. “A dark elf.” She smirked. “And you’re illegal.”

“Illegal?” I repeated. “How can I be illegal?”

“Simple,” David said. “Svart Alfar are against the law. Too magical. All deported to Faerie sixteen years ago. Any who manage to stay here are smart enough to glamour themselves to the nines and not get caught. So how’d you do it?”

“How’d I do what?”

“How’d you find our safe house?”

I sighed. “Look, arsehole,” I said. “I don’t even know what a Svart Alfar is, and the last thing I remember was a lorry barrelling into my MPV at full speed.” I didn’t see any need to tell them the whole story.

“You know what?” Shari tilted her head, and I could sort of see some mist around her. “She’s telling the truth. She’s got no idea.”

“You know what?” Shari tilted her head, and I could sort of see some mist around her. “She’s telling the truth. She’s got no idea.”

I eyed Shari. “What are you?”

“I’m an elf, like you, only I’m a Lios Alfar, a light elf. We’re not illegal.”

I looked at Shari. I looked at myself. “So I’m fucked,” I said flatly.

“Not necessarily,” David, who looked human from what I could see under his hat, replied. “Svart have incredible glamouring powers, and we could use another fighter.”

“A fighter? I’m no fighter,” I said. “I’m a massage student.”

Once I'd stretched a bit, I realised something: I felt stronger.

Once I’d stretched a bit, I realised something: I felt stronger.

Once I’d stretched a bit, I realised something: I felt stronger. “So Svart are fighters with incredible glamouring powers.”

“That’s right,” David said. “And we’re going to get in a shitload of trouble if we do anything other than report you to the authorities, so….”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Shari said. “You want to take in this stray?”

“Can’t hurt, might help,” David replied. “Besides, how are we going to explain we have a Svart?”

“I don’t know,” Shari retorted. “We found it in our front garden, waited overnight, then rang the authorities when the offices opened?”

“And then they’ll send her to Faerie at best,” David said. “At worst they’ll decide she’s some kind of criminal and incarcerate her.”

“I’m not looking forward to either of those options,” I said quietly. “What do I need to do to learn what I have to learn in order to survive and then get out of your hair as quickly as I can?”

And that, minus a few details, is how I became associated with House Geasan. They taught me how to hide, how to fit in, how to fight. Of course, they also sold the metal bikini for money and made me wear secondhand rubbish for a year until I got to the point where I could steal my own. I came up with the alias of The Amazing Catwoman when I first looked in the mirror and saw my eyes. It must have been that evening, or maybe even that afternoon; I don’t remember too well.

To make a long story longer, that’s why I was so worried when my glamour stopped working in Faerie.

I admit it, I became a bit paranoid, wandering around the Unseelie Forest.

I admit it, I became a bit paranoid, wandering around the Unseelie Forest.

I admit it, I became a bit paranoid, wandering around the Unseelie Forest. I kept waiting for other Svart Alfar to jump out of the woods and claim me or take me hostage, or something.

Let's just say I didn't let go of that awesome spear Wulfrich issued me with.

Let’s just say I didn’t let go of that awesome spear Captain Wulfrich issued me with.

Let’s just say I didn’t let go of that awesome spear Captain Wulfrich issued me with.

And after my talk with Dyisi, I don't think I wanted to see anybody, not for a few days at least.

And after my talk with Dyisi, I don’t think I wanted to see anybody, not for a few days at least.

And after my talk with Dyisi, I don’t think I wanted to see anybody, not for a few days at least. So I spent my time in the forest, hunting and fishing, avoiding contact with various Fae, none of whom looked much like me or reminded me of any of the stories David and Shari and the other eight people (eight!) who lived at House Geasan told me. The one thing they did tell me was to avoid the Sidhe at all costs. And this Realm of Faerie? Is lousy with Sidhe. Half the people at that dinner were Sidhe, and I barely got a glimpse of Queen Gwyneth. How odd that a Fae Queen would have the same name as my former best friend who is probably dead or God knows where right now. What I do know is that Sidhe, particularly Royal Sidhe, are not to be trusted as their stock in trade is using other Fae races for their pleasure. Despite the fact that we Alfar have been around for much longer than the Sidhe, they seem to have made it to the top of the Fae food chain and are the unquestioned leaders of Faerie. Probably, I’ve heard it said, by stepping on the backs of the Lios Alfar. 

And of course I'm stuck in this realm because *she* detected something out of whack when I landed on her altar.

And of course I’m stuck in this realm because *she* detected something out of whack when I landed on her altar.

And of course I’m stuck in this realm because she detected something out of whack when I landed on her altar. Which means that sooner or later she’ll want to meet me and probably question me, and mark me as an Enemy of the State or something.

In the three years I’ve been doing jobs for and with House Geasan, I’ve never met another Svart Alfar. At this point, I think I’d probably drop dead if I did meet one.

So after three days in the Unseelie Forest, I returned to Captain Wulfrich. I expected punishment; instead I got a hearty clap on the back and a “welcome back”, and a “hope you enjoyed your time off hunting; we’ve got a new job for you.”

It seems there is some trouble with the Goblin Kingdom, so they have me guarding this bridge between their Mallorn Tree and the Seelie Lands.

It seems there is some trouble with the Goblin Kingdom, so they have me guarding this bridge between their Mallorn Tree and the Seelie Lands.

It seems there’s some trouble with the Goblin Kingdom, so they have me guarding the bridge between their Mallorn Tree, which even in Alfar lore is the centre of a Faerie Realm’s power, and the Seelie Lands. I’m swapping off with six other guards, all of whom are men, all of whom are taller and lighter than I am. Four of them make fun of my ears constantly; the other two are afraid of me. I don’t even know their names.

I'm spending my days doing battle exercises and getting used to the very weird concept of swordplay in a skirt.

I’m spending my days doing battle exercises and getting used to the very weird concept of swordplay in a skirt.

I’m spending my days doing battle exercises and getting used to the very weird concept of swordplay in a skirt.

I’m a little bummed about not being able to carry my spear while guarding, but Wulfrich says it’s safer to have a sword and a shield, so he’s the captain.

And no more of that gold and blue velvet nonsense: I’m in good battle armour, not the kind I used to wear in LARPs, which basically said, “Come at me, monsters! I shall vanquish you with my baps!” with the stag insignia of Queen Gwyneth’s Guards.

Sooner or later, I'll have to meet the Queen.

Sooner or later, I’ll have to meet the Queen.

Sooner or later, I’ll have to meet the Queen. And of course they all talk about her as if they’re in love with her: the rumour is that Sidhe Queens have this almost hypnotic influence over their subjects. I hope very much that one of the great unknown powers of the Svart Alfar is that we are immune to such tricks, but I somehow doubt it: if that were true, we’d be at the top of the Fae food chain, and not the Sidhe. Of course, they also say this Queen is different from other Sidhe Queens in that she accepts everybody on their own terms, but I’ll believe it when I see it. Every brush I’ve ever had with Fay Royalty over the last three years has led me to believe that none of them can be trusted, no matter what they tell you.

I can’t decide if I want to meet the Queen and get sprung from this Realm as quickly as possible, or if I want to put it off for as long as possible. I guess til that day comes, I’ll just stay here on this bridge, where nothing seems to be happening, squinting against that goddamn blinding tree, and thanking all the gods that leather, at the end of the day, is pretty good at absorbing perspiration.

Style Cards:

Fenella in London/Rock Shots
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins, Michelle (Exclusive for The Lexi Project!)
Hair: Exile, Under The Sun
Eyes: Dulce Secrets, Terra Firma Eyes, Hydrangea (Available at Designer Showcase!)
Lipstick: Dulce Secrets, Bee Stung Lipstick (Available at The Makeover Room!)
Dress and Shoes: Posh Pixels, Punkette (Available at Marvelous Monthly!)
Bracelet: Earthstones, Mesh Squared Bangles
Necklace: Maxi Gossamer, Clockwork Steampunk Heart
Necklace: Tantalum, Ultra Rare Steampunk Book Necklace
Ring: Aisling, The Good Wife

Fenella Waking Up at House Geason
Body: SLink
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins, Unicorn Dark Grey Smooth
Hair: Exile, Letters And Lipstick
Eyes: Gauze, Paradox Cat Eyes, Amber
Ears: Gauze, High Elf Ears
Metal Bikini, Collar & Bracelets: Una Medieval, Irelia Silver
Ring: Aisling, The Good Wife

Shari at House Geason
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins, Michelle (Exclusive for The Lexi Project!)
Ears: Mandela, Steking Ears, Season 5
Hair: Elikatira, Gia
Eyes: Boudoir, Fairy Eyes
Necklace: Ellabella, Magi Necklace
Top: Serendipity, Secrets of the Ancient Dragon (Available at the Hidden Sanctuary Event, The Ancient Ones Return)
Jeans: Evilkyoot, Express Jeans
Boots: Ison, Cult Riding Boots, Black

The Amazing Catwoman in the Unseelie Forest
Body: 
SLink
Skin: 
7 Deadly s{K}ins, Unicorn Dark Grey Smooth
Eyes: Gauze, Paradox Cat Eyes, Amber
Ears: Gauze, High Elf Ears
Hair: Calico, Quinn
Clothes: Blue Moon enterprise, Celtic Breeze (Available at We Love Roleplay!)
Spear: MacMoragh & Muse, Obara’s Spear
Necklace: Otherskin, Selene
Ring: Aisling, The Good Wife

The Amazing Catwoman Guarding the Bridge
Body: SLink
Skin: 
7 Deadly s{K}ins, Unicorn Dark Grey Smooth
Eyes: 
Gauze, Paradox Cat Eyes, Amber
Ears: 
Gauze, High Elf Ears
Hair: Calico, Quinn
Outfit: Phunk, Princess Warrior Armor, Sword, Shield & Boots
Brooch: Miamai, Game of Thrones House Emblems, Baratheon (rare)
Ring: Aisling, The Good Wife

Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. I never leave home without it!

WLTB 500x500Hidden sanctuary events sign skinlogodiap

When The Gypsy Davey Calls Out to the Universe…

The Gypsy Davey:

The Gypsy Davey:

No shit, there I was. That’s how stories like this are meant to start, aren’t they? It’s right up there with “Hold my beer and watch this,” which is a phrase I learned from a fellow who came from the American Southeast.

I’d been in the forest for weeks. I saw no other man, and no other woman. Just me and a forest full of animals, a small stream, and a campfire that looked as if it were well-used. Perhaps it’s a glade between worlds for folks like me who get lost on their way from one realm to another.

In a way, I had resigned myself to being here forever.

In a way, I had resigned myself to being here forever.

In a way, I had resigned myself to being here forever. Something went wrong. Something I caused, or forgot, or didn’t do, or did do.

And besides, the place was peaceful.

And besides, the place was peaceful.

And besides, I rationalised, the place was peaceful. A man could have total peace and quiet, nobody bugging him for anything, no one nagging him. He could strip off his worn clothes and bathe in a cool, clear (OK, freezing and slightly muddy) stream, then uncover an amazing shirt with a dragon on it from his backpack that he doesn’t even remember purchasing but that makes him feel comfortable and at home. He could dress however he wanted, run around naked if he wanted, have rabbit for dinner every night and never have to eat his vegetables….

He could feel, utterly and completely, alone.

He could feel, utterly and completely, alone.

He could feel, utterly and completely, alone. After a week, I was feeling resigned to the whole thing. After two, rabbit began to make me feel ill and I started hunting birds. After three, well. If there’d been walls, I’d have been climbing them. “Right, Universe,” I finally said. “I don’t know what I’ve done or who I’ve pissed off, but I’m ready to fight them with my bare hands now.” Great. I’m not just talking to myself now, I’m talking to the Universe, as if it could hear me. “Look,” I said. “I know you’re probably busy with other things, but I’d really like to get the fuck out of here now.”

Then, incredibly, I heard a voice. Great. This is the part where I start to tear off my own skin, I thought.

“And to which universe is it you wish to demand?  As there are many.. infinite..  more than there are thoughts within your head..  Boreíte anói̱to tsingáno̱n.

“Any Universe that will get me out of here?” I replied, all the while wondering why I’d reply to a disembodied voice anyway.

She appeared. Just like that.

She appeared. Just like that.

She appeared. Just like that.

“Dyisi!” I exclaimed.

Dyes canted her head to the side while giving the wayward Roma a once over..  “Nai, that is what I am known as.  However you seem to be in a rather stuck place.”  She paused for a moment to look the place over while curiosity filtered out into the air around her. “Did you forget your way, akribos mou?”

“I was dreaming,” I explained. “And I wanted to wake up. When I woke up, I was here. There doesn’t seem to be anybody else here. I’ve been here for weeks. I’m….” I scratched my head. “I think I’m beginning to go a little mad.”

Dyes snickered out while shaking her head at that, the curiosity turned into amusement with in an instant.  “Ah, I see akribos mou.  You have somehow fell into Dreaming rift?  Curiouser and curiouser..  But I guess if one who pushes through realms in manner that you perchance to, it would stand to reason that there is higher risk of such to happen.  Question is, why is it you can noht leave…”  Once more the currents around her shift and this more working curiosity began to filter out into the air around them.

TGD HSe 1 BLOG - 5

“I think it’s because I lost track of the others.”

“I think it’s because I lost track of the others,” I explained, “We ordinarily travel between realms effortlessly, as if we were on a road together, if you see what I mean. But because I was dreaming, and then just sort of wished myself out of the dream, I came without my kin.” I shrugged. “I’ve never questioned how we do it: we just do it.” I admit it: her calm and casual and possibly somewhat patronising air was beginning to irritate me. I tried not to show it. “The question is,” I said, believing I knew the answer, “can you get me out of here, back to some realm where I can find my way back to the others? They are probably missing me about now.”

Dyisi listened to the hapless Roma explain his situation. In truth she did have some concern to this seemingly case of entrapment.  The curiosity was still there, along with now that concern, though she said nothing more until he asked his question of her.  That granted him this warm smile and a bow of her head.  “Of course I can deliver you to a realm in which you may be free of here.  Nai, nai..  it will be easy.”  With that, she held out her hand for him to take, her lips twitching into more of a wry smirk.  “Just hold your breath, akribos mou.. and do noht let go..”  As it is, the satyr had her own means to traversing the strands of the multiverse.

So I reached out, and I did not let go....

So I reached out, and I did not let go….

So I reached out, and I did not let go, and it was as if the Universe shifted around us, though I knew it was Dyisi’s magic making this happen. In truth, I’ve rarely met a being so strong with the talent or skill for realm-hopping as the Satyr.

And of course, for her it probably was easy, I realised. For me, moving between realms happens with the support of the clan, the band, of travellers I call family. For her… well, I don’t really even know if she has a family. I’ve never asked.

We landed outside the familiar surfer's shack with its rolling sea and little river.

We landed outside the familiar surfer’s shack with its rolling sea and little river.

“So,” I said, “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

The sileni’s way of moving from place to place was quite different.  The moment Davey took hold, what he felt were her surface emotions.  Not that tingly sensation followed by the full force of her passion.  Not this time.  And what her surface emotions made him know was that he must hold on for his very existence.  Because if he let go, he would be lost in eternity.  The vastness of the Inbetween was her path..  Her path was one she knew all too well as it led them to one of her “hidey hole” spots in some random strand that looked to be quite modern in placement.  Once they both just.. appeared within it.. the satyr moved to take up a seat on one of the wicker chairs.  The soft looking pillows spoke of her eclectic taste of often bright hippie patterns.  “I thank you for such, akribos mou.  Though work upon it is seldom done, nai?”  That wide coy smirk playing over her lips.  If he was privy to her surface emotions, the likelihood that she had picked up on his was quite high.

I blushed: I couldn’t help it. I was remembering the last time we’d been here together, when she’d cured me of the Fae Curse. Well, partly. We won’t speak of my dreams of the Faerie Queen here.

Eventually I settled into one of the chairs, stretched. “I haven’t felt a cushion in weeks,” I admitted. Sure, there was that dingy pillow atop one of the logs in the forest, but… well, it was nicer after I washed it, but it took three days for the thing to dry in that shady, windless clearing.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about life,” I explained to Dyisi. “In between worrying about how the hell I was going to get home and trying to have anything besides rabbit for dinner. I don’t suppose you have … do they deliver pizza in this realm?”

The satyr watched him take a seat as she jabbed her staff into the ground.  From the soil, little tendrils of roots coiled upwards to attach themselves to it.  She crossed her arms while kicking her legs up to rest on the thin armrest to make herself comfortable.  It became apparent that she was more relaxed in her own spaces than in other places.   “You are, of course, welcomed to stay as long as you need, akribos mou.  It is a place of rest..” she offered to him while canting her head once more to give him this study.  The satyr rather enjoyed these visits with Davey: he was a different face.  However, when he asked about food, she just sighed out while shaking her head..  “For that, you may need to find another place..  as you can see.. there is no road here.  However, I am sure there are fish within water that you might like..”  Again that wide coy smirk tugged at her lips.  “Might need to remove your shirt first though..”

Style Cards:

The Gypsy Davey:
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins, August Group Gift, Men (Available at the 7 Deadly s{K}ins Main Store!)
Hair: Calico, Caden
Eyes: Poetic Colors, Pearl, Aurora, Medium Bright
Ears: Mandala, Steking Ears, Season 5
Shirt: Serendipity, Hidden Dragon Tee, Gold (Available at the Hidden Sanctuary Event, The Ancient Ones Return)
Trousers: Wicca’s Wardrobe, Ares Pants Male
Shoes: FateStep, Anthony Boots

Dyisi:
Body
:
Hair – little bones. Rude
Skin – :[P]: Astrali Raverie
Slink Enhancement Hands Casual
Clothes:
Top – Tee*fy Laura Unbuttoned Knotted Shirt in Olive
Pants – <Squish> Ladies Cargo in Mixed
Accessories:
RO – Hipster Bag Coffee
Earthstones – Belly Crystal Turquoise
Tumble Stone Necklace Rasta
EF – Mohio Necklace
Zaara – [Goa Party] Retro Sunglasses *silver-blue*
[Goa Party] Friendship Bracelets
[Goa Party] Baga Nosering
Schadenfreude – Water Digital Alchemy Necklace
Earth Digital Alchemy Necklace
~Soedara~ – Pearl Berjuag Tari Bindi
Kibitz – Tulip Nose Chain
Tattoos: .ARISE. – Maori Facetattoo
Tiki Tattoo – Bora
:[P]: – Asaia Markings
Jalwa – Khaleeji Swirl 3
Satyr Parts:
[Gauze] Faun Hooves
Illusions – Runed Horns: Nivicola
Ears + Tail unknown (I seriously don’t think you can even find them anymore)
Shape and Staff of Doom are self made.

Special thanks to my SL BFF, Dyisi Oppewall, who rped the end of this scene with me to perfection because I didn’t want to write her character for her!

The Hidden Sanctuary event The Ancient Ones Return, opens on August 8. I know I’ve only shown you one item here, but there will be more to come! There is so much great stuff to be seen there, and wait til you see the list of upcoming events! You can pick one up when you tp into the event: there’s plenty of information there.

Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. I never leave home without it!