Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation - if you can dream it, you can do it.

The label around the rim said "Flower Market" and it smelled like Monet's garden which conjured visions of abundant green foliage adorned with a painter's palette of blooms. For this reason she liked it. The night was fresh, like swishing in a cool pond of spring air.

Why do they always teach us that it's easy and evil to do what we want and that we need discipline to restrain ourselves? It's the hardest thing in the world – to do what we want. And it takes the greatest kind of courage. I mean, what we really want.

They used to say that banality affected the Sidhe worse than any other. Now, after the destruction of all kingoms, the fall of all structure she remembered a world that seemed very much like a dream. If there were other survivors of that dream, she had not yet found them but this didn't worry her because they would come around drawn together again by an infallable spirit.

And how she felt she had died. A spirit utterly crushed in to breathlessness. What happened in the end, she didn't know because she hadn't been there. The seering blaze of the inferno had been so hot that she had had to turn her face away.

Yet a dream is like an idea, and even as others pass on from it and dismiss it, as others leave the story, the dream itself does not die. I Kaimel Coa. The Dream Lives.

Life, in a world of luxury; cold cash money mentality. Life, in a perfect system; take the stand and fight for freedom. You gotta keep the faith and run away - its time to break free.

Looking out over the Seattle skyline glittering in the distance, the mirrored windows of skyscrapers reflecting streetlights, she missed them but did not lament them - the way one recalls fond memories of summertime adventures.

For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating. For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered, but flight.

She didn't feel like she was a part of them anymore though because one has to let go of those that will not embark with you. It is hard to fly when they try clip your wings, but wings regrow. Some say life will beat you down, break your heart, steal your crown...but I'm learning to fly...

The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours. But to win it requires total dedication and a total break with the world of your past.

Fight for the value of your person.
Fight for the virtue of your pride.
Fight for the essence.
Fight with the radiant certainty and the absolute rectitude of knowing that yours is the morality of life and yours is the battle for any achievement, any value, any grandeur, any goodness, any joy that has ever existed on this earth.

The only true law is that which leads to freedom. There is no other.

I'm learning to fly, round the clouds; what goes up, might not come down.

Current Location: My Apartment
Current Mood: mellow
Current Music: Learning to Fly; Tom Petty

Lolly removed the giant crystal diamond from its golden stand and placed back into the small brown box that Billy had given her at Pennons. She'd padded it with some velvet and it just happened to be a perfect storing place for her favourite seeing stone.

Unfortunately, what she was seeing today only made her feel worse. Things had definately gone...way off into left field like a foul ball yesterday.

Right now, she didn't really have much of an opinion on the fact that Poppy Renot somehow had the soul of a Fiona Sidhe in a box, and had given it to Billy. What upset her was that before she had been able to find out what exactly was going on with it - Billy had thrown on the necklace and WHAM, fell unconscious on her floor as the Sidhe held within had awoken inside of him - before she could stop him, before he knew the consequences of that action.

And that's where it all went downhill like a mudslide. Billy - William now - wasn't very happy when he more or less discovered that he was going to go to sleep as the fae soul within claimed its place, that he would be subdued. When she'd tried to speak to him it was like talking to two people at the same time, in one body - she hadn't known how to respond to that - it ended in him running away after she'd fallen asleep watching him. Lolly really couldn't blame him.

She couldn't leave him out there either.

In the course of a few days, he'd found an abandoned house. An 8 year old boy had outgrown his kids clothes into those of a 15 year old teenager (and for that both she and Davika were rather unhappy with Poppy's decision to 'help' Billy along), and he was toughing it out in the basement of some building.

Although she'd been watching him every day, Lolly thought to give him some space before going after him. It was amazingly hard to wait.

He was such a gentle soul and it broke her heart to see him in pain - hurt in a way that she couldn't do anything to fix. She hated that.

Current Mood: worried
Current Music: Transformation: Beauty and the Beast

Still waiting on more from Straehle and Tim, but here are mine and some of Brians.

http://public.fotki.com/ahague/pennons_2005/

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: Sons of Somerled

Pennons was the holiday by which Lolly counted her birthdays. It was the event where she'd made her first entrance into the courts of kithain, where she'd sworn Clasped Hands with her brother, made a treaty with the garou, and become engaged herself. It was her favourite of celebrations.

The first night it had been herself and only the residents of her Duchy, and in her mind the best of nights. Only the presence of Tyler would have improved upon it. Together they had all pitched camp and then presented her with well, a surprising amount of gifts. Killian gave her a pendant he'd crafted from petrified wood and bracelets with agate baubles. Davika gave her a handful of sparkly costume jewelry dross which Lolly stowed away like a treasure in the box with the golden figurine that Billy gave her. Gatorboy even sent a beautiful pink rose that had been preserved in glass, from his blooming garden. She loved them all and though none of them had seen it, when she retired each night she unwrapped them all again to admire them.

When evening began to fall, Heroi stoked up a fire and Davika cooked a family dinner. She insisted on clearing the table, setting it properly and then the five of them sat down to eat roast meat with cubed apples but not before Billy had them all say "GRACE", literally.

It was close-knit and pleasant. After the meal they started a bonfire in the pit and Billy brought out the original Brothers Grimm and they began storytime. As each of them read a story, Lolly had gone to them one by one and washed their feet then massaged them with the essential oil of their choice, Heather, Lavender and Eucalyptus. Everyone had looked at her like she was insane until Killian piped up that he wasn't about to refuse a foot massage from a Princess.

When each of them had read, and the book was closed, Lolly brought out a slender bottle of Apricot Honey Mead that she had been waiting to share with each of them and together (even Billy had a little) they all shared the sweet drink and shortly retired to their tents.

This first day, these acts, had been the most significant to her; two Redcaps, a Pooka a Kinain and a Sidhe. It was a rare occassion that she was able to really show how much she liked and appreciated them all.

The rest of the weekend went by with lazy good vibes, she'd thought. The games were crazy and fun like they always were, and they'd even had a couple new games, both of which she'd liked and both she thought could be improved upon for next year being the Insult Contest and the Flourbomb war.

She had taunted Billy ceaselessly about girls being better than boys (since he insisted girls couldn't be pirates) and when the Flourbomb War had been won, he definately got his lick in when he gathered up the remaining flourbombs and smash-tackled her with them. It all errupted into a huge dogpile wrestle with him and Heroi and herself in the middle of the field until they were laughing too hard to breathe, covered in flour.

The Bardic that night was pretty good she'd though. Revel told a story from the lore of her kith, Tyler told of his chrysalis, Killian sung a jig, Finneous played his flute (which Lolly had really thought was something considering he was a battle-hardened Troll) and she'd sung the Foggy Dew.

As with all such gatherings though, there were some downers. It didn't escape the attention of her citizens that their would-be king Dillon blatantly ignored all of them, thus proving even further his distaste for 'commoners'. Killian had been especially irked by having the Marco ap Scathach tell him that Redcaps were essentially, freeloaders who were unwilling to work for anything in their lives and that commoners always complained about the Sidhe even though it was always the Sidhe who saved their butts.

Such attitudes were very dismaying to her people and they didn't instill *any* kind of confidence in Dillon or his so called advisors. They only served to make everyone depressed over the fact that he thought himself deserving of the crown. Tyler himself had even said, "At what point does Dillon think that he has done *anything* to earn the Kingship, that's what I'd like to know."

Such sentiment weighed heavy on Lolly, because she couldn't disagree with any of them. She'd hoped so much that Silver would come around but he hadn't. He hadn't progressed, he'd done nothing for Lilac Fields or its residents except attack their freeholds, demand the fealty of some, try to steal their dross and then present them with nothing but a condescending attitude of superiority. He was not the stuff that Kings were made of, worse, he was only a shallow reflection of what his father had been.

Her residents had come to meet the "new and improved" boy-king, and all they had been given was blatant snubbery. All he had done was ignore the very people he expected to bend knee and become his citizens.

What was she supposed to say to them after that?

Perhaps nothing - for whether with words or without, the to-be king had spoken for himself.

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Music: None.

( Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming around )

Current Mood: hot
Current Music: Rhythm is a Dancer; Snap!

Lolly had picked a multi-colored dress from Bebe that flowed around her gently. Stylish, tiny little heels with a jeweled dragonfly in between the toes. Her hair was tossed up in a perfectly bespeckled 'mess', topped as always with a little tiara. And when she walked, every head on the sidewalk turned, boys stopped mid-sentence, girls errupted into jealous titterings.

The day was gorgeous and sunny, probably would reach 90 degrees. Inside though, it was not so sunny - no. In fact, it was a storm of rage. She had the boy carry her package for her, down to her car, got in and drove off.

********

Here, her dressed flowed in yards of soft silk that beckoned to be touched, caressed, brought up into your arms. And the beautiful vase of blown glass, it was at least three feet tall sat in the middle of the stark room. Colours swirled together in a playful menagerie, as her footfall circled it, eyes drinking in the many different flavours of the pretty patterns.

In her hand, was a hammer.

Such a brutal weapon, that was. One strike of its weighted steel, was enough to break clean through a mans skull in a sickening crunch, leaving a little hole she imagined. An axe would just take your head clean off, a war-hammer would mash you beyond any conceivable recognition. But a builder's hammer, how ironic.

Her knuckles were white, clenching it. It was so pretty, she'd wanted it for awhile in all its audacious brightness. She resisted, stalking it in circles, and she knew what he would say if he could see her, hell. Maybe he could.

He would tell her that she could do whatever she felt like. Did she want to? Go ahead.

In one savage flurry of motion she crushed it; slamming the hammer into the work of an artist, destroying it. Over and over, fracturing and splinttering all the glass shards. She hated them, each and every one. When there was nothing left, she fell to her knees and continued smashing it up until there was only fiberglass dust.

Until her face was streaked with angry, hateful tears - but was it so wrong to be so mad at all the hurtful, betraying things they'd done? Was it really hate, or was it just the only protection that could be mustered for a wounded heart? She didn't know.

She kept hitting the ground with the hammer until she could neither see, nor had the energy to do so anymore. Maybe she didn't stop. Maybe his hand gently grabbed her wrist before she could strike down again as if to say 'it is enough'.

Because his voice certainly echoed in her ears, sat there amidst her tatters of destruction.

"Chaos exists to be ordered."

Current Mood: Hurt

There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forhead
And when she was good,
She was very good...


Fatima had never done something before, simply because she could; for no better reason that it was within her power to do so. Oh! but in the past fortnight she had. And that realization never left her mind.

The edge of her thoughts sharpened and honed themselves on that fact like the blade of a knife on a wet-stone. It was a sharp and unforgiving edge.

("The world showed no compassion to me.")

Of all that she'd heard in the past few weeks, only two words echoed in her mind. Two words that above all else had poured from his lips like a sweet liquer. Words that with but an eager sip, had acted upon her like a golden truth syrum.

"Tell me..."

And she had, gladly. For this...she had been waiting a very, very long time.


...and when she was bad, she was horrid.

Current Mood: cynical
Current Music: Carly Simon: Coming Around Again

The clouds clung over the jagged evergreens like snagged cotton as Tyler navigated them through the elevated mountain roads. It made the sky seem low, within reach; she imagined she could pull whisps of white from the tree-tops like angelhair at yule.

These mountain passes with their thick and needled pines meeting the sky above and the brown earth below, they were beautiful, but nothing still like the blue sky and yellow land of the Columbia River gorge that opened wide before them as they came off the pass. Clouds were left behind as they sped into the golden light of Lilac Fields.

( I dream of trees and roads, I roam across the lands, the sky is big the deepest blue, the clouds like smokey trains... )

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Erasure: Treasure

"I think you should write, Highness. You have a talent for it." The words of Duke Jayde had always been smooth as black satin sheets, but he had been sincere all those years ago. Lolly simply hadn't expected to find herself writing these sorts of things.

It was a decent start, she felt, first drafts always needed editing but she felt that the point she'd been aiming for got expressed. She may not have finished if Poppy hadn't asked to read it when she was done. Her brow knit in consternation, wondering just what the issue between Lilly and Poppy.

The subject matter had come to mind whilst reading some political commentary, and she had discussed it with several persons, just to hear their thoughts or see if they had even thought on such a thing before. In pretty much all cases, the issue was very unclear and muddied which disturbed her for she sought to understand and learn about things at their very core. After all, it was the crux of a matter from which all else came.

As a person with the authority to dole out punishments, the Princess found this particular topic very pertinent to duty as a noble. How could a leader act with a fair and just hand, if they had only the vaguest idea of what it was to begin with?

It was an interesting dichotemy she thought, that the very antithesis of seelie nature could in fact be employed to seelie ends.

( On Justice )

With that she sealed off a copy to the Duchess of Ravens Eye and then saw herself downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of warm, frothy milk with a hint of coconut before turning in for the night.

Current Mood: satisfied
Current Music: Bach

rat-tat-tat-tat...rat-tat-tat-tat...

Lolly trilled the ballpoint over her bottom teeth idly, looking out the window beyond her desk in thought. You know, she'd never even spoken to the Duchess until what, two nights ago? She certainly had heard enough about the woman. Treise Bidelia ni Ailil actually proclaimed to 'feel wary' about Blodwyn because of the Duchess's house. From an Ailil, the irony of that statement was not lost.

Despite her reputation for veritable baby-snatching, boiling the skulls of her enemies to make shrunken heads, or whatever today's bad ju-ju gossip was (and Lolly had been watching, listening for several months now with no more than a casual hello), she hadn't seen either a blatant, or even a subtle sort of indicator that this woman was some kind of Moriarty.

The Princess was not without her own personal experiences regarding House Leanhuan too. The unease of the other girls sounded like a girl-scout campfire stories when re-iterated in hushed tones round the balefire. Neither their xenophobia nor their tid-bits of rumour were founded with any actual experience on their parts, only a product of believing whatever they were told.

When it came right down to it though, Blodwyn hadn't really shown the signs that were indicative with membership in the Shadow Court, and for a predominately Unseelie house, Lolly thought the Duchess acted awfully Seelie. Since obtaining her lands she had cracked the whip, been steadily stengthening both House and Duchy and though she liked a beer and a good rodeo, she certainly wasn't lazing the days away and 'delegating'.

Yes, she knew what the rumours of that House were, she had lived through such an experience to some extent; the Duchess shewed nothing of these personality attributes. Could it have been a ruse? Sure. Time does tell however, and a lot of time had passed since her marked entrance to society last Samhain. Very few can really keep up a perfect facade for even a month, let alone this long, but really she was a practical woman that lady was and didn't seem given to the patience such a game took.

Good.

clack-clack-clack-clack-cl--

And so, after her single happenstance night of conversing with Blodwyn, Lolly had decided to help her out in a small Amelie sort of way and then watch what happened. It made her smile, this method of doing things - she was pretty certain the relatively new Duchess didn't have this bit of information.

She put the pen to paper with swift resolution:


Tyler,

When you are ready to go south, one of the people you should seek out in Feathered Snake is Conde Juan Morales y Soto de Leanhaun, Conde La Provincia de Sueños Caros, for obvious reasons of corresponding House. At last check, he was in service to Duke Nero Navarro y Medina de Eiluned, Duque of the Ducado del Cabo Grande. I suppose if all that fails, then there is the standard fallback of the Troll, Duke Topaz.

I've attached a copy of their royal sigil, that of El Reino del Serpente Emplumado:



Hope it helps, =)
Lolly

She actually wanted to go with him on this little excursion, wanted to see the old Aztec pyramids, visit a place where blue turquoise was still a popular stone for fashionable jewelry, or to buy ruffled, breezy skirts and off the shoulder tops from open market places. Lolly wanted to see Mexico; she doubted duty would be such a lenient task-master. Instead, she put the note on Tyler's desk and went back to work with daydreams of hot sun.

Current Mood: enthralled
Current Music: Mexico; James Taylor