Djivan's junkyard
His wagon is in much better state of repair than it was several months ago. The roof has been fixed and everything has been given a fresh coat of paint … even the socks stuck on the wall (everyone was afraid to touch them to remove them). But, repaired and painted as it is, it's still full of typical guy clutter. Clothing is tossed in piles and nothing is organized at all.

"Pity ol' vuffie didn't give 'er a right thumpin' huh? She really deserve it, bein' all nosy and pushy about 'em starting a town nearby," Djivan declares as he prances into his lovingly unkempt home. He spins around, catching the pile of junk on his bed with his tail and sweeping it away. Well, on to the floor, anyway. Then he settles down with a resounding thump. "So, vhatcha been up t' miss scurry-an-hide-from-Djivan?" he asks with a grin.

Olivia closes the door to the wagon behind her and sits down beside Djivan on the bed. "I'm sorry for that," she apologizes, picking at one corner of his rumpled blanket. "I just didn't want to worry you about what's been happening to me until I knew it was worth worrying about." Hesitantly, she goes on to tell the Skreek about the odd dream she had, where she woke up, and the ritual that Natasha and Isolde performed on her.

"Whoo! You mus' be a psychic, den. Dis is amazin'" Djivan hoots. He pulls up his legs and hugs around his knees. Even his toes wiggle with amusement. "See, dis just proves I vas righ', vou are prefect for me grand plan!"

Olivia just stares at the gypsy for a few moments, apparently stunned that he isn't regarding any of what she's just told him as strange. "Um… and what grand plan would this be?" she asks, when she gets her voice back.

Djivan leans in as his eyes dart about like he's looking for spies. "Y'see," he begins, his grin ever widening, "I be vritin' a play. No' just any play, but de play to end all plays. One t' amaze an vow de entire lands, it be! It be a harrowing and tragic romance, it be. A suave and sophisticated noble from de sky an' his great, but ill-fated romance wit' de Queen o' de Trolls. And cuz I cares about ya, vou gets t' be the Queen innit! Great, no?" He even spreads out his arms, noting, "I be's ready fer my hug o' gratitude now!"

Instead of hugging the Skreek, however, Olivia just stares at him a little longer, although her eyebrows are now threatening to vanish into her hairline. "You've been writing a play?" she says, incredulous. "Goodness, and here I thought you never wrote anything longer than a limerick! But, er, isn't that too much like work for you?"

"Heck no! It involve snoggin'. Anything dat involve snoggin' isn' vork. Vell, unless ver a prostitute … but anyvey! Yeah, I be a playvrite an stuff … cuz de girls diggit. Havencha' seen how de romance novels get aroun?" Djivan asks and waggles his brow. "And guess vou is de lead man, de pinnacle o' sophistication. C'mon, guess!" he continues. His arms are still spread, expecting his hug.

"You're going to play the leading man, aren't you?" Olivia says, the corners of her mouth beginning to twitch.

"Novone is better suited t' the role, now are dey?" Djivan asserts and puffs his chest out. "Name one person more manly!"

"Bravil," Olivia replies immediately. "And he's a lot more muscular, too. I don't think you'll get him to agree to be in your play, though."

"Pah! Jus because he gots bulges all over don' mean he gots dem where dey count!" Djivan huffs.

"Oh ves he does!" comes the chirp of Liliana's voice outside one of the nearby closed, windows. There's a lot of giggling, too.

"I could ask Natasha about that… " Olivia suggests, smiling in an evil way.

"Y'know, I thought vou vould be more supportive," Djivan grumbles. He swings his right arm back and thumps it against the closed window. "An vou, vou valking hormone, kin go away!"

Olivia sighs and shakes her head, then squeezes Djivan's hand. "Look, I think it's wonderful that you've found something else to do other than gambling with the otters all day – really, I do! It's just… um, well… I'm not sure I want to be a Troll Queen. It doesn't do much for my image, y'know? And it wasn't too great to begin with! But if you're serious about this, maybe I could see the script before I make a decision?"

"I still be vorkin' on de script. It be ready in a few more days, prolly," Djivan says and reaches over to poke Olivia's nose, "But, ve coul' fit vou vith a costume in de meantime mebbe an vou kin see vhat vou t'ink? I even asked Natasha an she said she coul' help with makin' people look like trolls and stuff, temporarily. An … de winged annoyance voul' help vith some clothes… "

Olivia eeeps softly and rubs her nose. "Yes, I overheard that last part a little while ago," she replies. "Hmmm… well… I suppose I could look over Liliana's costume ideas for now. But I am not – and I repeat, NOT – saying yes to this yet! When I can look over the script, then I will decide! Got it?"

"Hmph," goes Djivan, "Y'act likes ya don't trust me! It'll be good, I tell yas. Vou be famous an all afterward. Ve kin take it on de road even and wow de cities across de vorl! An vou shoul' see de illusion spirit thingers Natasha crafted based on troll legends. De be downright spooky."

"An hard t' clothe! Lotsa pointy bits!" Liliana chirps from outside.

"Considering the quality of the illusion spell she put on your father, I can believe it," Olivia says, smiling. "Okay, let's go see what Lili has in mind before she strains her voice trying to talk through the walls all day!"

"Oooo, I gets t' dress de mousy… " Liliana cackles gleefully from somewhere outside. "I t'ink vou jus' made 'er day," Djivan notes.

---

Liliana's Wagon
Colorful, lacy, and feminine would be the best way to describe Liliana's wagon. Swathes of multicolored translucent fabric hang from the ceiling. At the far end is both a ceiling perch as well as a pile of pillows for lounging. Along the walls are a few shallow cabinets that probably contain her various bits of jewelry and trinkets she's collected. A trunk on one side contains her clothing what little she has, anyway.

Olivia precedes the Skreek into the wagon, saying, "I just hope you don't plan to put me into a corset, Lili – those things are darned uncomfortable. The one and only time I wore one, I could barely breathe!"

The walk over to Liliana's wagon is quick and without incident. When they enter, Olivia sees Liliana lounging on the far side of the room. She extends her right hand and curls her finger in a come-hither gesture. "Come, come, eeeenter me parlor, leeetle mousie," she purrs, then licks her lips as if sizing up a meal.

To Olivia's assertion, Liliana says, "Oh, vell, I vasn't plannin' on dat. In fact, I be t'inkin as little clothin' as possible… " she purrs.

"Figures. Quit bein' veird, Lili," Djivan remarks and throws one of the Eee's frilly underthings at the bat. It lands on her ear and sort of hangs there.

Olivia laughs at the sight of a pair of lacy underpants hanging from the bat's ear. When she recovers, she just shakes her head at Liliana. "As little as possible, huh? Gee, how could I have guessed!"

Liliana pats the pillow in front of her. "Gon' sit o' no?" she asks, that devilish grin still playing upon her lips. The underpants-ear flicks, tossing them with an amazing amount of grace to the side.

Olivia gives the Eeee a wary look, but she eventually walks over to the pillow and sits on it. "So, what kind of skimpy costume did you have in mind this time?" she asks.

"Vell, kinda depends on iffin vou let Natasha put an illusion over yas, o'course, "But I vas thinkin' something tattered, elegant, an old lookin'. De trolls are supposedly from an old race or somethin', right? So, maybe an old ball gown dat has been torn to strips vith age. Holds a bit o' dere old elegance, is kinda creepy as trolls are supposed t' be, and kinna sad, too. I mean, how vould vou like t' be a prisoner under de ground, part of a long-dead civilization dat time is slowly eroding?" Liliana asks as she reaches out and pets the Skeek's cheek. "Besides, it be just fittin' since I t'ink de rat is vritin' a tragedy or sumthin'."

Olivia blinks a little as her cheek is stroked, but at last she says, "Actually… that's not a bad idea, Lili. It does kinda fit in with what little we know about the trolls' origins. So, do you have any sketches of what this old ball gown will look like?"

Liliana noses towards Djivan. "He gots 'em," she comments.

"He de better artist, anyvay," she adds.

Olivia now looks at the Skreek and waves her hand at him. "Let's have 'em," she says, grinning.

Djivan rummages around in his shirt and pulls out a crumpled paper. He offers it to Olivia … it doesn't smell too funky. Must be near a bath night.

Olivia holds the piece of paper a little bit away from herself so as not to be knocked over by the smell. Then she examines the drawing on it.

The drawing is actually amazingly well done. On it is a stylized picture of … a troll? Well, sort of a troll. It looks a lot like Olivia remembers the 'child' troll to appear. A furless creature … only this one has feminine shape to it. Well, except for the bits jutting from the top of her head and all down her spine. They're a series of long and wicked looking spikes. Its fingers are broad and tipped with spade-like claws. She's adorned with what appears to be a dress that's been out of style in Sylvania for a century at least. A long, white, ball gown that flows and billows out at her hips. The material may have been complete once, but is now shredded and torn, hanging in almost bandage like strips. In spite of the worn attire, the 'Queen' still holds her head up high, defiant and strong. And yet somehow those milky-white eyes echo a bit of sadness to them, as if weary from carrying the weight of centuries.

Olivia looks over the drawing for a long time, impressed and rather stunned by the quality of the artwork. "You never told me you could draw, Djivan," she says, with a touch of envy in her voice. "This is amazing! Heh, and I thought I was the artist around here!"

"Pfft, it be nothin'," Djivan says and waves his hands, "A doodle."

"Feh, he always says dat. He doesn' want people t' expect more outa him, vou see," Liliana whispers. "Prefers de image of bein' a lazy slug."

"More than just a doodle, I think," Olivia objects, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Anyway, I like your concept… and I assume Natasha will provide the other effects?"

"Yah, said it vouln' be too hard t'do. Dat she had a recent glimpse into vhat a troll looked like. She a veirdo some days," Djivan notes. "Guess she gots de idea from dat ritual vou did. Hey, Lili! Der vitch puts cold stuffs on Olivia's, er… "

Liliana … cackles maniacally.

"Yeah, okay, we don't have to go over all that," Olivia says testily, the insides of her ears turning bright red. "Anyway, so far, so good… and did I hear something about having to take my measurements?" she asks the Eeee. "Can I trust you not to get frisky while you take them? Or should I get Djivan to do that if you can't control yourself?"

"I gots some warm stuff we coul' put dere," Liliana offers with a playful purr and leans over until her lips nearly tickle the Skeek's ear. Boy does she grin.

To save Olivia from certain bat, Djivan soundly whacks Liliana with a pillow!

Olivia yeeps and backs off hastily – especially when the pillow is thrown! "I'm warning you, Lili – I'll make Djivan take my measurements if you can't behave!" she warns.

"Aww, vou don' vant de kiss of luv?" Liliana teases and waggles her eyebrows. "I suppose I kin behave fer a little bit. I von't even makes ya undress. All I need are rough height measurements fer now. Ve vill haf to do more once Natasha puts de illusion on yas, as it'll change yer shape a bit. Height vill get me a good estimate… "