A Beach Feast (IC)

[Hanoverian Great Britain]

"Certainly, those narrow-minded arseholes, never listen to them", chimed Alexandra in response to Mhairi's own take on the criticism levelled against her in the past concerning her appearance. While Alexandra's own mother in particular had consistenly praised her apperance as a "strikingly rare beauty", a sentiment also repeated by her beloved late grandmother alongside all of her other family members and relatives, a positive-natured reassurance from a friend, whom also happened to be a model like Alexandra herself wouldn't hurt either.

Upon being reassured by Mhairi against such daunting criticism towards her unnatural appearance, Alexandra was quick to turn her attention towards the picture in hand, which clearly consisted of approximately two men and one particular woman. While she briefly scrutinised past the sight of the two men in the picture, her eyes were expectedly fixed towards the sight of the women instead. For Alexandra, while the woman's red hair seem to greatly resemble that of her own sister Mary's own red coloured hair, it was also the woman's life story that caught her attention the most, for the story of a warrior-like woman resonated much with herself, as she briefly looked back to a certain time in the past when she received much attention and admiration for being the very first woman to pass the grueling Parachute Regiment test, while also being the very first royal to do so. "Gosh, such a fascinating woman, isn''t she..", commented her simply as her eyes continued to study the woman in the picture. Just a few minutes later, she then turned towards Mhairi, with a much puzzled look on her face as she blurted out a question of her own, "Mhairi, you said she was fourty eight springs in this photograph? Then how old is she now, then? I wonder if she is still kicking that warrior spirit when she is already in her 50's, it's just so amazing to know if she still does it. Gosh I love her!".

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Snowflake Hospital, Main Entrance.

Cornwall Zimmern

Cornwall silently crept into his boss's hospital room, careful not to disturb him. As his accompaniment had surmised, Alastair was sleeping; though wrapped in bandages and hooked up to an IV, he showed no signs of distress. But Cornwall could not allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief. Alastair had been injured because he, Cornwall, hadn't been there to watch over him. He shouldn't have listened to Alastair and taken the day off. 'Twas his job to watch over Alastair, and he had failed to do that--with disastrous results.

This poor man was forced to run the country as his father slowly died, crawling painfully toward an end that seemed on the precipice of approaching yet infinitely far away. He was suffering immensely, what was left of him, for the cancer had overtaken his mental faculties alongside his physical ones. Bedridden, vegetative, King Alastair III was no longer the man who had guided the country for over twenty years. In his stead was a shell that showed no emotion other than agony, that never responded to visual or auditory stimuli, that didn't even recognize his own family. Cornwall had seen, and witnessed, the King display not so much as a simple eye movement at the sound of his own name.

No wonder the Prince had ended up like this. He was grieving a father who was gone by all counts except physically. Even that, however, was reduced to a form unrecognizable. It was as if every sign Alastair III existed was erased, and now the only thing left of him was a heartbeat that grew more feeble each day.

If witnessing the death of the King was debilitating to Cornwall, he could only imagine what it was like for his boss. To know that he was King in all but name, to know that his father was as good as gone, must be so crushing to him. Did he cling to the fact that his father was still clinically alive as solace for the fact that the man who raised him was gone?

Alastair's chest rose and fell steadily, his breathing much stronger than that of his father. The poor man was covered in loose bandages, and, from what Cornwall could see, blisters; a good portion of his face was covered in gauze, but the eyes, the lips, and the tip of the nose were all visible. They were an angry pomegranate, stark against the snowy bandages.

"You Highness?" Cornwall whispered. He approached Alastair's bedside and lowered himself into a nearby chair. The Prince did not stir. He was going to be in a great deal of pain when he awakened, so this was just as well.

Cornwall pulled out his phone to update his boss on the situation. He would need to talk to a doctor to see what Alastair's course of treatment was, how long he would be staying, if he needed skin grafts. Would it be possible to transfer him to a hospital back home, or was it best for him to stay here?

Sighing, Cornwall stood and thanked the woman who was with him. He needed to talk to the nurse, a doctor if he was lucky, who could tell him more about Alastair's condition. This was urgent, very urgent, for he knew everyone at home was desperately worried. And they needed answers, both from him and from Alastair. Since Alastair was asleep right now, the burden fell on Cornwall's shoulders.

Celina Altra of the Tribe of Wicklow.
I waited outside, leaving the two men to their own devices – I would hear, if there would be any sort of distress, without a doubt. When Zimmern left the room, I still stood there, he thanked me and looked around for someone.
“You look like you want to speak with someone, who is in charge.”, I said and motioned for him to follow me. The ward nurse left a room not too far away, an older woman with the silhouette of a barrel. She held a notepad, looked at me, then at Zimmern, then back at me and gave me a long look. “Milady Mairin.”, I greeted with a small bow, she nodded, “This is Cornwall Zimmern, he is the travelling companion of the man in Room 15.”
“Ah, heatstroke and sunburn.”, the woman replied and nodded, then smiled at Cornwall. “Don't worry, lad, we'll keep him overnight and make a few tests tomorrow to see, if any complications arise. If that comes back negative, we'll release him by the end of the week. He should take it slow for the forseeable future, though... and avoid alcohol.”
The last was accompanied by a very stern look.

Cornwall Zimmern

"Avoid alcohol?" Cornwall's eyes knitted together. "Was zere something--he should have been following ze resort rules, if zat is what you are suggesting." He stood, then, belatedly remembering he was being introduced to this woman, offered his hand for her to shake.

"What kind of tests are you going to run?" He was not quite sure what to ask in this type of situation; then again, was anyone? This seemed a position more suited for Alastair's immediate family than one of his guards.

"I mean, what are you testing for? Will 't be painful?" He refrained from asking if there would be any costs. Money was not an issue for the royals, and, well, Cornwall was not sure how this country's healthcare system worked.

But the comment about alcohol was the one that his mind kept coming back to. Had there been something off in his bloodwork, or in a scan? Had they scanned him for any internal problems when he was obviously burned? "Alcohol," he repeated. "What did you find zat had to do with alcohol, exactly?"

[Mediama]

Somewhere on the Beach.

Marion sighed in relief as Nia reassured her that the flow wasn't going to collapse on them as they climbed up the tower. She was right of course, the structure itself seemed rather sturdy for its shape.

So much so in fact, that there were already partygoers inside the tower when they entered, each of them bowed in respect.

Marion nodded in understanding as Nia explained, she had heard of the Selkie's reverence toward their elders. To be a woman whose physical age was significantly different from her actual age... she'd be equally embarrassed herself after a while. It was similar to some of the celebrity worship she received from some of her fans occasionally. Whilst she may show herself to be a woman of grace and poise, there's still plenty of flaws she has on her own.

She was human after all.

Nevertheless, they made their way up the tower, taking in the sights of what looked to be a once intimidating tower with the number of windows available to mount weapons on. Eventually they reached the second floor of the tower, its floor rotted away, home to a sole bird's nest that was long gone. As Nia motioned for her to sit next to her, she unbottoned then slipped off her shoes and stockings, put them and her bag safely next to her, outside of the threat of the long drop, before she sat next to Nia, taking in the sight before them while she swung her feet and wiggled her toes.

The sun was setting on the horizon before them, providing a backdrop for the festivities below, a grouping of lights and music as the festivals themselves changed with the passing of time, with the children being called to bed she imagined. She could even see the people scampering around the grounds like ants, moving around in their bikinis on their own accord to their own destinations.

Further out to sea, she could see the lights of several yachts and boats, and the vast ocean before them, dark blue tinted with the reddish orange of the sunset.

As she continued to take in the view, she leaned onto Nia's frame, resting her head against the crook of her neck, her heat a contrast to the cold of the height they were at as she took her hand in her own. "It's perfect." She said softly. "Like something you'd see at picnic with port and cheese."

It was indeed a picturesque view.

Nia Sneachtúil, of Cefnffordd Descent.
Marion's comment made me smile, wrapping an arm around her frame softly.
Indeed, soon the sun would vanish and make way for the moon and the stars, Moricil having a field day with his canvas – or the Nacinnór chasing each other. That depended on which belief system one followed.
Sure, there was a scientific explanation of stars and galaxies and whatnot, Branwen had written an entire novel set up there, but... it was so dry. Imagining Gods chasing each other or someone using the sky as his canvas was more fun.
Besides, the view was too beautiful.
“It is almost as beautiful as you are.”, I told Marion with a smile.

Marion looked up from her spot in the crock of Nia's neck, face flushed and smiling, "Such a charmer, you are." as she wrapped an arm around her and snuggled further into the embrace. She gave a peck on her cheek and along the jawline. "I would say that you were just as beautiful as the night sky as well. Though to describe your beauty and grace from what I've seen throughout the day would take me a millennia to possibly do it justice."

Deep inside, she felt contentment, and maybe something more. Though her instinct of propriety told her now may not be the appropriate time. Were they going too fast? Perhaps they needed to go on a date first.

Then again, what were they doing for the past few hours?

One thing's for sure as she and Nia looked over the ever-brightening skyline as the nightlife of the island came into being, and the children were tucked into their beds, something beautiful had started out of something oh so mundane.To think all of this started from an attempted rendezvous for a potential business partnership. My how things developed. She mused to herself.

And to think the night had only just begun.

[Mervay]

Princess Alya bint-Sarah.
I was a veteran of BI, so of course I knew Gawain – and I knew, that he said of himself, that he was as old as the Mountains and as young as the Breeze. As confusing as that statement seemed, it seemed to hold true, at least as far as the chronicles were concerned, mentioning him as a warrior for the High King of Mountain and Forest in the First Century BCE, during the War of the Cosántarraighi.
And even in those, he was mentioned as a wise and ancient warrior.
I also knew, that everyone talking with him usually left as his friend. He had this air about him, of ancient wisdom and familiarity.
That being said, I smiled at the two teenagers as both the two of them and I were leaving the beach. I wanted to get to bed early tonight, was uninterested in the drinking, which would undoubtedly come. Uninterested in their conversation, I was a few meters in front of them, saying goodbye to a friend with a short hug and kisses on both cheeks before resuming my way towards the hotel (and thus not catching a word of their conversation).
I noticed the Little Black Fox, though.
“Aw, that is a cute thaelshaebhar!”, I said with a smile, looked at the two, “Is he yours?” Then I let a beat pass before asking: “It is a he, right?”


Leonard Rualacha of the Tribe of Wicklow.
I put my hand on the table, palm up, ready to take her hand into mine, should she want to.
I was silent for a long time.
My Father taught me, that one should treat a woman with honesty and respect – and maybe my reply was influenced by my experiences with my own mother, who died when I was but a child, and by my experiences with my own father, who was sad ever since.
“I am not sure, if I can be that person.”, I admitted, “Let's be honest, Athena, I like you. The two of us work well together and I would love to see, where we can go together... still, we know each other for but a few hours now. I do not know, if I am the right guy for you, if you don't deserve someone... well, better.” I let a beat pass. “Aside from that, I am many things, but 'kind' is not among them.”

Lisolette Devienne and Lucas Walker
The peace of their thoughts and calm ended up shortly as their backs stiffned up, thinking someone might had heard them as they walked. In the end tho; the girl they saw behind was more interested in Dilly than them which at least was kind of a relief, until they noticed who she was of course. She appeared Kyrenaian if one had to guess, of course before they would ask that the couple just smiled at her with a small chuckle in the middle; the owner of it speaking.

"Of course young girl, it's a he..." She giggled while Dilly beamed in happiness at the girl's excitement after making sure she wasn't a threat, letting her caress his fur with an smile on him. "My, he took quite a liking to you after making sure you were trustworthy." Lise continued before Lucas added just in case it was taken the wrong way.

"It's just in case they feel danger to it's owners and himself, since you know... Black Foxes aren't the most popular mascots around here." He told her while letting an nervious laugh. "If we may ask miss, would you please tell us your name?"

Athena Freezis
Athena took the offer, taking his hand and linking it to hers; an confident and caring smile on her face while her eyes beamed trust. One thing Leo would notice was that her hand felt as cared as silk and had a warm feeling on them.
One thing was certain as soon as the redhead said his answer, it was one the businesswoman wasn't expecting at all. Her eyes and lips had a neutral expression, one difficult to read as she tried to process the answer Leonard gave her and what to say before suddenly smiling warmly at him.

"Well, I guess that you just voiced my own feelings of you as well." She giggled lightly before giving him an tender face. "Well, it appears you are selling yourself short Leonard; you may be the person for me as I'm the one for you. To me you look like the kind of person I want in my life." She really wanted to lean in and kiss him, to show him she was serious; but yet. She couldn't. How she would do that when he's right there, is it worth to make a guess here and don't test the waters? Sure she knew people that fell in love at first sight and kind of rushed it, she couldn't forget the stories she her parents, that in a few hours only they fell in love and took a leap of faith that worked in an spectacular manner; there was a precedent and surely many more, but statiscally, they were exceptions to the rule. It made the woman wonder if they could give it a try.

"If... You do love me as you said Leonard; perhaps we can try it, perhaps not take a leap of faith, but rather go slowly." She was speaking completely serious of this, there was no way she was to pass what could be the one in a lifetime opportunity of finally meeting her soulmate. "Perhaps we can begin as friends; and if... Our feelings do stand and become even stronger, then maybe, maybe we can finally let ourselves give up to the love we can have..."

[New Visayan Islands]

Gerald Vicente
At the Bar

Gerald couldn't help but smile at Amy. Her giggling had brought something in him that had lain dormant for four years...

"You know what? You have me convinced: I think Redruth would be a great place to visit one of these days, and not on a professional capacity." His smile grew deep as he said this. "Whether it be by myself or with someone--and from how it was described, it would be far better were I not by myself--the experience alone sounds quite magnificent."

[Ezhara]

I was so glad, that Amy was more occupied with talking with Aither...

Malik smiled...

Kaz paused, looking out to the sea with a half asleep smile. "Pawn you off?" Kaz said. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's just... well, Eiko's here. He's a phenomenal actor, but he's still trouble; you'd know it if you get to meet him." He reclined, frowning. "I'm just warning you, that's all. I wouldn't want a kid like you getting to know someone like him all too well." He paused. Just what was with Eiko? Maybe it came with the acting, but even then, most of the actors were more reasonable than him, had some sort of identity other than acting.
But Eiko? Even his daily tea ceremony was an acting ritual that he pilfered off of one of his roles.
"But enough about him." Kaz smiled. "Sad to hear about your brother. He seems the kinda wise guy that people would enjoy being around for one reason or another. Hunting sounds like one of them, but I'm only a falconer. Unfortunately, my bird's not here with me. He's not one that likes being taken abroad."

He tilted his head a little at Malik's mention of Amy. "No surprise. Even back home, I'm known to have an irresistible charm to most. Wouldn't mind putting that to the test with your little game." He set his arms behind his head, tilted his body back, and he basked in what light there was as it flowed over the contours of his athletic form. "Eiko's one of those exceptions, sadly, but... I don't need him. It's his loss." When he heard Amy's offer, he frowned. Seemed he wasn't the priority anymore.
No matter. Besides, it seemed the other didn't want to, anyway. "If there's someone you'd like to dance with," he said, "I wouldn't mind giving it a try. I've danced a fair bit in my own music videos and with others. Whether you can keep up..."

We reached the hotel in good time, comfortably as well...

Park remained silent, but nodded at Ribin. "I'll tell him, but... I don't think either of us are to blame. It's something else." She glanced away, sighed, when her shoulder was touched; everything she had done was her best, that was clear, but as an Ezharan, it didn't feel right. She felt like she should've done so much more, but this was a first in Eiko's life— that all this time, he was utterly devoted to acting to the point of every tear and smile coming back to it, yes, but he never showed his hurt.
Maybe that should've been clue enough. His complete ambivalence to everything was unparalleled, even among the Talents, some of whom were about as passionate, but they still felt like kids.
Like people.
Eiko was drained of all that individuality, but it couldn't have been the acting industry. Not in Ezhara, where incidents of lynching against cast and crew alike indicated that any rumor of abuse would be sniffed out and repaid in horror.

When Ribin touched Eiko's hair, he paused in his murmurs, and stared up at her, lost as ever.
"Mom?"
At the kiss, he turned silent. One last memory, the survivor, crawled out of the recesses of the battlefield, carrying the tattered standard of his name, unwilling to falter.
It was not the final memory, no. That one had already arisen and faded like a dusk-night-dawn. It was simply him and her, in a dinghy apartment, with a bowl of white rice in front of him as he bounced on top of a pillow they had pilfered from a friend. His mother was at the stove, cooking a crackling egg, humming along to an old Shihoko Mui song barely audible from somewhere outside the room. Even back then, he could still remember the lyrics just enough to imagine it.
That was all he ever had for a toy. No fancy bricks, no dolls, no backgrounds. Just what he could tell himself from his memory, and as his memory's mother approached him, her mouth grinned, but her eyes remained exhausted.

"Eiko," the memory said to him. "I think the chicken that this came from must have lived in a very lovely home. Mom thinks she made something real good out of this."
"How big were the paddies, mom? And were the chicks—"
"I'm sure it did, Eiko, and every day, I'm sure there must've been a braver little one who'd try to get the others to go explore."
"'I wanna see what's outside. Dad says there's a big white and black thing that lives out there, and every day, the owner would go out, and the thing wouldn't hurt him. I wanna see how.'" Memory Eiko looked up at his mother. "Like that, right?"

"Mhm." She pat his head.

And kissed it.

"Now, eat your breakfast. It's going to get cold, soon."
"Cold? Like a mountain adventurer? Do you think the Chol... Chol..."
"Cholätipaqmi?" His mother looked up at the ceiling."I think they could, Eiko. They could get fish and fruits and all kinds of things. All fresh. Imagine that."
Eiko adopted a more regal attempt at a voice as the image of a morning summon was conjured up in his mind. "'Get me the finest fish for dinner, runner.'"

"But the journey is going to take so long, Eiko."
Now, he was that messenger, and he nodded. "I can do it."
"Can you?" There was no doubt in that question.
"'If the birds can make it, then so can I!'"

For the outsider, it was little more than a pointless little story, the sort that only a mother could give to her child. For him, it was little more than everything.
Everything came back to stories. For him, his mother wove everything into a story; their mealtime rituals, what little they had, had its own story for this or that ingredient. Out on the streets or in the theaters, she helped direct him to tell a story. "Feel happy, like you're a hero who just came home," she'd say, or, "Imagine," or, "Remember when you..."
Every moment between them became an inspiration, and it was all he could hold onto from her.

"Come on, Eiko," Park said. "Let's go."
Silence. The nostalgic past had gently captivated him, put him into a childish exhaustion that would've been adorable had it not been for the circumstances; at the very least, it was easier to manage him now.
Humming the ballad that Gisara had written so long ago, Park sauntered into the hotel, past the halls, into her room; to those who noticed her, she only gave a sideways glance. Then, when she came in, she set him down onto a chair, watching as the little lost boy's limbs fell onto the armrests, becoming limp and doll-like, his cup grasped between his right index and middle fingers. "I'll get your clothes," she said. Would he hear?
It didn't matter, anyway. She popped open his luggage, finding first probably a hundred packets of matcha tea, which at least made sense considering how many he drank. Still, she needed to get his clothes; she filtered through the green kimono... green kimono... green kimono...
All he had were green kimonos.

She stroked the one on top. It wasn't any million-dollar piece, of course, but the silk was still smooth, luxuriant. It had an antiquated comfort to it, like that Ancient Prince that Eiko had acted as so long ago, and whose legacy was still apparent, what with the green hair and matcha obsession. For that matter, the kimono was an exact replica, although the fact that he had enough copies of it to last perhaps five days was... fascinating. There wasn't even a yukata, which would have been vastly more comfortable for the beach. She had heard of his eccentricity before, of the way that he "drank a cup of matcha per hour" or how he always and only wore a kimono. He had acted without it before, sure, but he was still pretty much attached to the green and its blooming flowers and matcha aroma.

Sighing, she picked up one kimono set and set it inside the bathroom. "Eiko, whenever you're ready..." she said.
A mechanical nod.
"If you need anything, say something, okay?"
The gears, the mechanisms of his nod turned more slowly this time, as though choreographed by some half-asleep puppetmaster.
"Is..." No, she couldn't ask that, not when he was sitting there, unmoving, unfeeling. Nothing was all right. "Look, you're in my care for now. If anything comes up."
A mechanical nod.

"You should... get going," she said. "Besides, I need to call your mom."
"Don't..."
Park paused and stared at the boy, whose hands had now clenched over the arms of the chair. "Eiko, she needs to know what's happened to you. It's my responsibility as your chaperone... even if this'll end up doomin—"
"She won't like it." His heels had lifted off of the floor.
"Of course she won't, but... you're not going to get better if—"

Now, his head lifted up and his fingers tapped to some unknown rhythm, but no emotion showed. "She won't understand."
Park pulled out her phone. "Eiko, just trust me."
Her finger touched the screen, and her wrist suddenly froze. She glanced down to see Eiko had grabbed her hand, and the hundreds of acts and characters he had created, honed, loved, had coalesced into one constant:
Fear.
Park stared back. For a few seconds, neither of them budged. Then, the acts melted away, away, away, back to Eiko. Back to four-year-old Eiko, whose grip weakened, slipped. He backed off and stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, miss."

"Just... trust me, Eiko. I'll try to make it up to you, someway, somehow, 'kay?"
A nod.
He slinked off to the bathroom, and Park looked in her phone for his mother, Tomoe Michori, a chipper woman who always carried a parasol. She always smiled, laughed loudly, offered invitations to luncheon and other such delights. Only...
Why did Eiko never smile near her?

[Hanoverian Great Britain]

/bump

[The Selkie]

"Certainly, those narrow-minded arseholes, never listen to them", chimed Alexandra in response to Mhairi's own take on the criticism levelled against her in the past concerning her appearance. While Alexandra's own mother in particular had consistenly praised her apperance as a "strikingly rare beauty", a sentiment also repeated by her beloved late grandmother alongside all of her other family members and relatives, a positive-natured reassurance from a friend, whom also happened to be a model like Alexandra herself wouldn't hurt either.

Upon being reassured by Mhairi against such daunting criticism towards her unnatural appearance, Alexandra was quick to turn her attention towards the picture in hand, which clearly consisted of approximately two men and one particular woman. While she briefly scrutinised past the sight of the two men in the picture, her eyes were expectedly fixed towards the sight of the women instead. For Alexandra, while the woman's red hair seem to greatly resemble that of her own sister Mary's own red coloured hair, it was also the woman's life story that caught her attention the most, for the story of a warrior-like woman resonated much with herself, as she briefly looked back to a certain time in the past when she received much attention and admiration for being the very first woman to pass the grueling Parachute Regiment test, while also being the very first royal to do so. "Gosh, such a fascinating woman, isn''t she..", commented her simply as her eyes continued to study the woman in the picture. Just a few minutes later, she then turned towards Mhairi, with a much puzzled look on her face as she blurted out a question of her own, "Mhairi, you said she was fourty eight springs in this photograph? Then how old is she now, then? I wonder if she is still kicking that warrior spirit when she is already in her 50's, it's just so amazing to know if she still does it. Gosh I love her!".

Slácan Bar, Pléaráca Hotel.

Mhairi Uasal of the Tribe of Fermanagh.
“Close to fifty, I think.”, I replied with a small smile, “And yes, she is still kicking rear ends, according to interviews.”
“You can take the Lasite our of Las, but not the Las out of a Lasite.”, the barkeeper commented with a sagely nod, which made me raise an eyebrow. “Let's just say, that we once had a waitress from Las here.” I snorted in amusement. “Yes.”
“You aren't alone in your love for her.”, I commented, turning back to Alex, “She is very well-liked among her people and her family. Can't help you with getting to know her in person, though, I'm afraid.”

---

Cornwall Zimmern

"Avoid alcohol?" Cornwall's eyes knitted together. "Was zere something--he should have been following ze resort rules, if zat is what you are suggesting." He stood, then, belatedly remembering he was being introduced to this woman, offered his hand for her to shake.

"What kind of tests are you going to run?" He was not quite sure what to ask in this type of situation; then again, was anyone? This seemed a position more suited for Alastair's immediate family than one of his guards.

"I mean, what are you testing for? Will 't be painful?" He refrained from asking if there would be any costs. Money was not an issue for the royals, and, well, Cornwall was not sure how this country's healthcare system worked.

But the comment about alcohol was the one that his mind kept coming back to. Had there been something off in his bloodwork, or in a scan? Had they scanned him for any internal problems when he was obviously burned? "Alcohol," he repeated. "What did you find zat had to do with alcohol, exactly?"

Snowflake Hospital, Main Entrance.

Celina Altra of the Tribe of Wicklow.
“Too much of it, for starters.”, the head nurse told Cornwall drily. “We ran a standard drug test to see, if he had taken any medication or other substances and he is at quite an impressive blood alcohol level. We will run a few minor blood tests and urine sample tests tomorrow, nothing to be worried about – it won't hurt either.”
She let a beat pass.
“At least not physically. Some men see it as a bit demeaning to piss into a plastic cup.”, she added, shrugged, “But he should go through it. We will of course relay all findings to his family doctor and all costs will be covered, either by his insurance or from elsewhere.”
“The important part is, that he will be right as rain in no time.”, I reassured Cornwall and offered him my hand. “Let's go outside. You look like you need to take a breath of fresh air and to make some calls.”

---

Marion looked up from her spot in the crock of Nia's neck, face flushed and smiling, "Such a charmer, you are." as she wrapped an arm around her and snuggled further into the embrace. She gave a peck on her cheek and along the jawline. "I would say that you were just as beautiful as the night sky as well. Though to describe your beauty and grace from what I've seen throughout the day would take me a millennia to possibly do it justice."

Deep inside, she felt contentment, and maybe something more. Though her instinct of propriety told her now may not be the appropriate time. Were they going too fast? Perhaps they needed to go on a date first.

Then again, what were they doing for the past few hours?

One thing's for sure as she and Nia looked over the ever-brightening skyline as the nightlife of the island came into being, and the children were tucked into their beds, something beautiful had started out of something oh so mundane.To think all of this started from an attempted rendezvous for a potential business partnership. My how things developed. She mused to herself.

And to think the night had only just begun.

Somewhere on the Beach.

Nia Sneachtúil, of Cefnffordd Descent.
I smiled, a small stab in my heart at the mentioning of something taking millenia.
Usually, we Spiorad aren't shy, when it comes to our life expectancy, but somehow, Marion mentioning it so casually... it made me twinge. I would be there – she wouldn't.
I shook my head, banishing the thought and focussing on the present.
“Say...”, I began, “I know a nice restaurant here on the island. They make very good seafood.” I looked at her with a small smile, the dog ears twitching on my head. “Are you interested? We could also invite Macha and the kids, so that we aren't looking too much like we were having a date.”
The last was accompanied by a wink.
It would be one, no question asked, but one did not need to be so on the nose with it.

Lisolette Devienne and Lucas Walker
The peace of their thoughts and calm ended up shortly as their backs stiffned up, thinking someone might had heard them as they walked. In the end tho; the girl they saw behind was more interested in Dilly than them which at least was kind of a relief, until they noticed who she was of course. She appeared Kyrenaian if one had to guess, of course before they would ask that the couple just smiled at her with a small chuckle in the middle; the owner of it speaking.

"Of course young girl, it's a he..." She giggled while Dilly beamed in happiness at the girl's excitement after making sure she wasn't a threat, letting her caress his fur with an smile on him. "My, he took quite a liking to you after making sure you were trustworthy." Lise continued before Lucas added just in case it was taken the wrong way.

"It's just in case they feel danger to it's owners and himself, since you know... Black Foxes aren't the most popular mascots around here." He told her while letting an nervious laugh. "If we may ask miss, would you please tell us your name?"

Princess Alya bint-Sarah.
I smiled as the fox took a liking to me, or rather to my petting.
I nodded, when she mused about how Little Black Foxes weren't really popular in the Free Lands, though I always thought, that it was more of a Mainland-Thing and not here in the Archipelago... then again, I was a Kyrenaian, so what did I know?
Slightly sheepishly, I introduced myself: “I'm Alya.”, I said, no need to mention the whole row of titles, but it was necessary to make something clear, turning to the young woman: “And I'll have you know, that I am 17. So... not a young girl anymore.”
I gave her a playful wink.

Slácan Bar, Pléaráca Hotel.

Athena Freezis
Athena took the offer, taking his hand and linking it to hers; an confident and caring smile on her face while her eyes beamed trust. One thing Leo would notice was that her hand felt as cared as silk and had a warm feeling on them.
One thing was certain as soon as the redhead said his answer, it was one the businesswoman wasn't expecting at all. Her eyes and lips had a neutral expression, one difficult to read as she tried to process the answer Leonard gave her and what to say before suddenly smiling warmly at him.

"Well, I guess that you just voiced my own feelings of you as well." She giggled lightly before giving him an tender face. "Well, it appears you are selling yourself short Leonard; you may be the person for me as I'm the one for you. To me you look like the kind of person I want in my life." She really wanted to lean in and kiss him, to show him she was serious; but yet. She couldn't. How she would do that when he's right there, is it worth to make a guess here and don't test the waters? Sure she knew people that fell in love at first sight and kind of rushed it, she couldn't forget the stories she her parents, that in a few hours only they fell in love and took a leap of faith that worked in an spectacular manner; there was a precedent and surely many more, but statiscally, they were exceptions to the rule. It made the woman wonder if they could give it a try.

"If... You do love me as you said Leonard; perhaps we can try it, perhaps not take a leap of faith, but rather go slowly." She was speaking completely serious of this, there was no way she was to pass what could be the one in a lifetime opportunity of finally meeting her soulmate. "Perhaps we can begin as friends; and if... Our feelings do stand and become even stronger, then maybe, maybe we can finally let ourselves give up to the love we can have..."

Leonard Rualacha of the Tribe of Wicklow.
She took my hand and in her eyes, I saw trust – this was quick.
My words, however, made her consider, though not retreat. Her proposal...
“I would like that. Let's see, where we can go, Athena.”, I said an smiled myself, “But, as said, let's take it slowly and steadily. It wins the race.”
The last was accompanied by a small grin.
“I just don't want to rush it and hurt you.”, I said and smiled, “I know, that you are a tough lass, I see that in your eyes, and as much as I like that...” I shrugged. “My father taught me to never hurt a woman, except on the tournament field. We are not on the field and, if I were to be honest, I would prefer to see you at the sidelines, cheering me on, rather then with a sword in hand.”
I winked at her.

---

By the Bar.

I was so glad, that Amy was more occupied with talking with Aither...

Malik smiled...

Kaz paused, looking out to the sea with a half asleep smile. "Pawn you off?" Kaz said. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's just... well, Eiko's here. He's a phenomenal actor, but he's still trouble; you'd know it if you get to meet him." He reclined, frowning. "I'm just warning you, that's all. I wouldn't want a kid like you getting to know someone like him all too well." He paused. Just what was with Eiko? Maybe it came with the acting, but even then, most of the actors were more reasonable than him, had some sort of identity other than acting.
But Eiko? Even his daily tea ceremony was an acting ritual that he pilfered off of one of his roles.
"But enough about him." Kaz smiled. "Sad to hear about your brother. He seems the kinda wise guy that people would enjoy being around for one reason or another. Hunting sounds like one of them, but I'm only a falconer. Unfortunately, my bird's not here with me. He's not one that likes being taken abroad."

He tilted his head a little at Malik's mention of Amy. "No surprise. Even back home, I'm known to have an irresistible charm to most. Wouldn't mind putting that to the test with your little game." He set his arms behind his head, tilted his body back, and he basked in what light there was as it flowed over the contours of his athletic form. "Eiko's one of those exceptions, sadly, but... I don't need him. It's his loss." When he heard Amy's offer, he frowned. Seemed he wasn't the priority anymore.
No matter. Besides, it seemed the other didn't want to, anyway. "If there's someone you'd like to dance with," he said, "I wouldn't mind giving it a try. I've danced a fair bit in my own music videos and with others. Whether you can keep up..."

Macha Taise, of Cork Descent.
After Aither had declined the offer for a dance, Kaz offered himself and Amy looked him up and down.
“Sorry, but I'm more into dancing with older men.”, she said and rose, smiling, a slightly vicious note in her eyes. “They usually don't need to brag about their skills. If self-confidence were a currency, you would be poor, Kaz.”
Ouch.
Amy went off, I grinned and put a hand on the young lad's shoulder. “Better luck next time.”
Turning back...

[...]

Aither:
(Image)

Aither looks up having drifted into a daydream hearing someone ask a question. “Do what? Oh uh..” Aither cleared his throat and smiled back. “I’m sorry I don’t dance, not much my thing.” Oh, how he longed for a weapon bout now, too much sitting around becomes boring after so long, he should probably nab up Malik and drag him to the hotel room to get out of here finally. “heh” Aither muttered out loud as he thought of ways to mess with his brother.

...I smiled.
“You look like you are thinking about grabbing our young king here and dragging him off to bed.”, I read in his face, only partially a shot in the dark. Not to mention, they were busting out the bottles with the more spirited drinks. “Though I am not sure, if he would allow you to... he is having fun, after all.”
He, on the other hand, looked as if he wanted to be elsewhere.
A fighter without a fight has met his most vicious enemy: Boredom. And Gods, this was one heck of an enemy.

---

At the bar.

Gerald Vicente
At the Bar

Gerald couldn't help but smile at Amy. Her giggling had brought something in him that had lain dormant for four years...

"You know what? You have me convinced: I think Redruth would be a great place to visit one of these days, and not on a professional capacity." His smile grew deep as he said this. "Whether it be by myself or with someone--and from how it was described, it would be far better were I not by myself--the experience alone sounds quite magnificent."

Amy Ramallae of the Tribe of Monaghan.
I nodded.
“If you want, we can see, when we both would be free.”, I offered with a smile, then leaned over, “Unless, of course, you prefer a guide, who knows the place. Then I can see, if I can't find you someone on this beach, who knows the town.”
Fi would come to mind immediately, but I somehow had the feeling, that he would not want any ol' guide or partner on this journey, but a very specific one.
If I was right, though...? There was only one way to find out.

---

Pléaráca Hotel.

We reached the hotel in good time, comfortably as well...

Park remained silent, but nodded at Ribin. "I'll tell him, but... I don't think either of us are to blame. It's something else." She glanced away, sighed, when her shoulder was touched; everything she had done was her best, that was clear, but as an Ezharan, it didn't feel right. She felt like she should've done so much more, but this was a first in Eiko's life— that all this time, he was utterly devoted to acting to the point of every tear and smile coming back to it, yes, but he never showed his hurt.
Maybe that should've been clue enough. His complete ambivalence to everything was unparalleled, even among the Talents, some of whom were about as passionate, but they still felt like kids.
Like people.
Eiko was drained of all that individuality, but it couldn't have been the acting industry. Not in Ezhara, where incidents of lynching against cast and crew alike indicated that any rumor of abuse would be sniffed out and repaid in horror.

When Ribin touched Eiko's hair, he paused in his murmurs, and stared up at her, lost as ever.
"Mom?"
At the kiss, he turned silent. One last memory, the survivor, crawled out of the recesses of the battlefield, carrying the tattered standard of his name, unwilling to falter.
It was not the final memory, no. That one had already arisen and faded like a dusk-night-dawn. It was simply him and her, in a dinghy apartment, with a bowl of white rice in front of him as he bounced on top of a pillow they had pilfered from a friend. His mother was at the stove, cooking a crackling egg, humming along to an old Shihoko Mui song barely audible from somewhere outside the room. Even back then, he could still remember the lyrics just enough to imagine it.
That was all he ever had for a toy. No fancy bricks, no dolls, no backgrounds. Just what he could tell himself from his memory, and as his memory's mother approached him, her mouth grinned, but her eyes remained exhausted.

"Eiko," the memory said to him. "I think the chicken that this came from must have lived in a very lovely home. Mom thinks she made something real good out of this."
"How big were the paddies, mom? And were the chicks—"
"I'm sure it did, Eiko, and every day, I'm sure there must've been a braver little one who'd try to get the others to go explore."
"'I wanna see what's outside. Dad says there's a big white and black thing that lives out there, and every day, the owner would go out, and the thing wouldn't hurt him. I wanna see how.'" Memory Eiko looked up at his mother. "Like that, right?"

"Mhm." She pat his head.

And kissed it.

"Now, eat your breakfast. It's going to get cold, soon."
"Cold? Like a mountain adventurer? Do you think the Chol... Chol..."
"Cholätipaqmi?" His mother looked up at the ceiling."I think they could, Eiko. They could get fish and fruits and all kinds of things. All fresh. Imagine that."
Eiko adopted a more regal attempt at a voice as the image of a morning summon was conjured up in his mind. "'Get me the finest fish for dinner, runner.'"

"But the journey is going to take so long, Eiko."
Now, he was that messenger, and he nodded. "I can do it."
"Can you?" There was no doubt in that question.
"'If the birds can make it, then so can I!'"

For the outsider, it was little more than a pointless little story, the sort that only a mother could give to her child. For him, it was little more than everything.
Everything came back to stories. For him, his mother wove everything into a story; their mealtime rituals, what little they had, had its own story for this or that ingredient. Out on the streets or in the theaters, she helped direct him to tell a story. "Feel happy, like you're a hero who just came home," she'd say, or, "Imagine," or, "Remember when you..."
Every moment between them became an inspiration, and it was all he could hold onto from her.

"Come on, Eiko," Park said. "Let's go."
Silence. The nostalgic past had gently captivated him, put him into a childish exhaustion that would've been adorable had it not been for the circumstances; at the very least, it was easier to manage him now.
Humming the [utl=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCDhoNoP4qs]ballad[/url] that Gisara had written so long ago, Park sauntered into the hotel, past the halls, into her room; to those who noticed her, she only gave a sideways glance. Then, when she came in, she set him down onto a chair, watching as the little lost boy's limbs fell onto the armrests, becoming limp and doll-like, his cup grasped between his right index and middle fingers. "I'll get your clothes," she said. Would he hear?
It didn't matter, anyway. She popped open his luggage, finding first probably a hundred packets of matcha tea, which at least made sense considering how many he drank. Still, she needed to get his clothes; she filtered through the green kimono... green kimono... green kimono...
All he had were green kimonos.

She stroked the one on top. It wasn't any million-dollar piece, of course, but the silk was still smooth, luxuriant. It had an antiquated comfort to it, like that Ancient Prince that Eiko had acted as so long ago, and whose legacy was still apparent, what with the green hair and matcha obsession. For that matter, the kimono was an exact replica, although the fact that he had enough copies of it to last perhaps five days was... fascinating. There wasn't even a yukata, which would have been vastly more comfortable for the beach. She had heard of his eccentricity before, of the way that he "drank a cup of matcha per hour" or how he always and only wore a kimono. He had acted without it before, sure, but he was still pretty much attached to the green and its blooming flowers and matcha aroma.

Sighing, she picked up one kimono set and set it inside the bathroom. "Eiko, whenever you're ready..." she said.
A mechanical nod.
"If you need anything, say something, okay?"
The gears, the mechanisms of his nod turned more slowly this time, as though choreographed by some half-asleep puppetmaster.
"Is..." No, she couldn't ask that, not when he was sitting there, unmoving, unfeeling. Nothing was all right. "Look, you're in my care for now. If anything comes up."
A mechanical nod.

"You should... get going," she said. "Besides, I need to call your mom."
"Don't..."
Park paused and stared at the boy, whose hands had now clenched over the arms of the chair. "Eiko, she needs to know what's happened to you. It's my responsibility as your chaperone... even if this'll end up doomin—"
"She won't like it." His heels had lifted off of the floor.
"Of course she won't, but... you're not going to get better if—"

Now, his head lifted up and his fingers tapped to some unknown rhythm, but no emotion showed. "She won't understand."
Park pulled out her phone. "Eiko, just trust me."
Her finger touched the screen, and her wrist suddenly froze. She glanced down to see Eiko had grabbed her hand, and the hundreds of acts and characters he had created, honed, loved, had coalesced into one constant:
Fear.
Park stared back. For a few seconds, neither of them budged. Then, the acts melted away, away, away, back to Eiko. Back to four-year-old Eiko, whose grip weakened, slipped. He backed off and stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, miss."

"Just... trust me, Eiko. I'll try to make it up to you, someway, somehow, 'kay?"
A nod.
He slinked off to the bathroom, and Park looked in her phone for his mother, Tomoe Michori, a chipper woman who always carried a parasol. She always smiled, laughed loudly, offered invitations to luncheon and other such delights. Only...
Why did Eiko never smile near her?

Nolwenn Gluaisrothar of the Tribe of Wexford.
“Mom?”, he asked, as if in trance.
He was silent after my lips had touched him and Park was getting him back into the hotel. I knew, that no one would make a fuss. They looked a lot like a big sister carrying her little brother to sleep, after he had played all day. At least for the passing observer.
...did he really just call me Mom?
Apparently yes, by the slightly raised eyebrow Ribin had.
I exhaled. He looked so... fragile.
So unchildlike.
Whatever had happened to the poor lad, something in my heart wanted to hug him and never let him go, not before it was better. Another part of me wanted to punch everything which might have made him feel miserable until it stopped moving. But Park seemed to have a handle on the situation. It was not my place to intrude and to but in.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, making me twitch.
Ribin had her hand on my shoulder and motioned to the carriage. “Come on. Let's get something to drink.”
“Yeah...”, I said and followed her to the carriage.

[AHSCA]

Aonas Folracht of the Tribe of Wicklow.
“Indeed, all in good time.”, I said with a smile.
We walked down the beach together, which was awesome. She was a charming woman and apparently, my charms weren't lost on her either, which was always nice. She was beautiful, too, and a good dancer...
I offered her my hand to take, if she wanted to.

Ayla's cheeks went a shade of red, well now it as an offer to dance? Isn't this how it started with Kino? Yeah it probably was, well the flood of memories aside how could she resit. Taking the hand of her new friend, she took his hand and well now it was time to dance. She wasn't bad at it, even for her height she could hold her own in a dance with a real partner, but she still played it safe to let him lead, last thing she wanted to do was step on his feet or accidentally trip the both of them up. So letting the music take over she followed his lead and moves.

[Alegeharia]

Malik:

Malik studied the looks exchanged between Aither and Macha as they talked through the event, smirking some, "I think my big bro is being courted, but he is too oblivious to realize such!” He giggled and poked Kaz. “I hope you don’t but I haven’t gotten a chance to really study the map. Can you take me to the hotel? Or at least help me catch up to Eiko? I think I'm gonna give my bro some room to figure it out, he might not though!" He chuckled. "But one can hope aye? I got a brochure of the map somewhere...."

---

Aither:

Aither snapped back and chuckled. “Well, maybe, but it seems that he has found a buddy and he does have his room key, I am sure he will be quite all right.” He smiled then tilted his head at the thought of Alcohol. “I could drink, but it wouldn’t do anything for me, my friends say I’m a waste of alcohol.” He laughed again he was always in good spirits even if he zoned out time to time. “The alcohol goes through me too fast, I have drunk 80%s with 60-80 proofs and it goes into a toilet in minutes, so I can’t get drunk.” He was quite proud of that but was calm. “It’s also why I tend to avoid it cause that can be dangerous. So, what do you plan to do now?”

[New Visayan Islands]

Gerald Vicente
At the Bar

"It would be a pleasure," Gerald replied. "On top of that," he added, "I do not think I would need a guide when that day comes...we would both be free, after all. Surely a guide would be redundant at that point?" ...unless she wanted to be my guide? he thought almost immediately. Amy's reaction when he suggested visiting Redruth some time down the line meant that if there was a hint to be taken, Gerald most certainly took it.

[Hanoverian Great Britain]

Upon hearing the answer uttered by Mhairi, Alexandra was less surprised by her near-accurate prediction. Nevertheless, the amount of admiration she held for the said woman is both immense and all too familiar for herself, as it reminded her of her own father, the former King William VI whom, despite being roughly two decades older than the woman in the picture, is still generally known for his own avid and passionate interest in the game of polo, something that has personally earned the latter the nickname, Polo King. Nevertheless, as the barkeeper commented rang through her ears, Alexandra herself personally struggled to make any sense of it, although she promptly shrugged it off as Mhairi continued their conversation. "I see, well, that is a bit of a disappointment, but I guess such fascinating people like hers deserve some limits as to how exposed they are to the general public, don't they?", questioned Alexandra as she habitually takes another sip off her much tasty drink. At the same time, the questions of limits and exposure reminded Alexandra of her past romantic relationship which, due to its much sensational nature at the time, led Alexandra to "take things" in a much more secretive manner, with a general rule of thumb being that Alexandra and her then romantic partner would only meet one another for personal reasons on the latter's yacht, which would often be conveniently located a bit distant off the coasts of any nearby countries.

[Mervay]

Princess Alya bint-Sarah.
I smiled as the fox took a liking to me, or rather to my petting.
I nodded, when she mused about how Little Black Foxes weren't really popular in the Free Lands, though I always thought, that it was more of a Mainland-Thing and not here in the Archipelago... then again, I was a Kyrenaian, so what did I know?
Slightly sheepishly, I introduced myself: “I'm Alya.”, I said, no need to mention the whole row of titles, but it was necessary to make something clear, turning to the young woman: “And I'll have you know, that I am 17. So... not a young girl anymore.”
I gave her a playful wink.

Leonard Rualacha of the Tribe of Wicklow.
She took my hand and in her eyes, I saw trust – this was quick.
My words, however, made her consider, though not retreat. Her proposal...
“I would like that. Let's see, where we can go, Athena.”, I said an smiled myself, “But, as said, let's take it slowly and steadily. It wins the race.”
The last was accompanied by a small grin.
“I just don't want to rush it and hurt you.”, I said and smiled, “I know, that you are a tough lass, I see that in your eyes, and as much as I like that...” I shrugged. “My father taught me to never hurt a woman, except on the tournament field. We are not on the field and, if I were to be honest, I would prefer to see you at the sidelines, cheering me on, rather then with a sword in hand.”
I winked at her.

Lisolette Devienne and Lucas Walker
"Lisolette, but call me Lise." She smiled cheerfully as her boyfriend introduced himself as well.

"Lucas, I'm her boyfriend." He smiled as well, both of them weren't willing to go with the titles nor backgrounds of who were their parents neither. Of course; then Dilly joined as he jumped onto his arms with an warm smile, they could only chuckle as they caressed him together. "And he's Dilly." The black vulpine grinned at the Princess while her owner spoke.

"I'll take you will join the party then or just go to the bar?"

Athena Freezis
It made her heart beat like crazy as that was what her ears heard. They would let it all play out, slowly but steady.
She could see where Leo was coming from with, and he would certainly be right. It would only hurt everyone if they didn't take things slowly; she was indeed a tough woman, she was strong, clever, perceptive and understanding; but he was right as well, everyone had their breaking point after all.
Of course, the moment he teased, Athena could only blush at that thought before she looked back at him with an smile.

"Well, you're assuming correctly, I'm sadly not an Marcach, so that kind of sport doesn't suit me. I have always been more of an swimming type if you ask me." She smiled back with her hands clapping

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Cornwall Zimmern

"Avoid alcohol?" Cornwall's eyes knitted together. "Was zere something--he should have been following ze resort rules, if zat is what you are suggesting." He stood, then, belatedly remembering he was being introduced to this woman, offered his hand for her to shake.

"What kind of tests are you going to run?" He was not quite sure what to ask in this type of situation; then again, was anyone? This seemed a position more suited for Alastair's immediate family than one of his guards.

"I mean, what are you testing for? Will 't be painful?" He refrained from asking if there would be any costs. Money was not an issue for the royals, and, well, Cornwall was not sure how this country's healthcare system worked.

But the comment about alcohol was the one that his mind kept coming back to. Had there been something off in his bloodwork, or in a scan? Had they scanned him for any internal problems when he was obviously burned? "Alcohol," he repeated. "What did you find zat had to do with alcohol, exactly?"

Snowflake Hospital, Main Entrance.

Celina Altra of the Tribe of Wicklow.
“Too much of it, for starters.”, the head nurse told Cornwall drily. “We ran a standard drug test to see, if he had taken any medication or other substances and he is at quite an impressive blood alcohol level. We will run a few minor blood tests and urine sample tests tomorrow, nothing to be worried about – it won't hurt either.”
She let a beat pass.
“At least not physically. Some men see it as a bit demeaning to piss into a plastic cup.”, she added, shrugged, “But he should go through it. We will of course relay all findings to his family doctor and all costs will be covered, either by his insurance or from elsewhere.”
“The important part is, that he will be right as rain in no time.”, I reassured Cornwall and offered him my hand. “Let's go outside. You look like you need to take a breath of fresh air and to make some calls.”

Cornwall Zimmern

Flabbergasted, Cornwall sucked in a breath. How was 't feasible the man had gotten his hands on alcohol? How much of it had he consumed this morning for his blood alcohol content to remain high hours later? He had too many questions running through his mind to ask them all at once, and he frankly did not feel inclined to speak. He needed to collect his thoughts, get his bearings.

As the only other WFian in the immediate facility, and as Alastair's personal bodyguard, he could act as a medical proxy. Alastair was in no state to make informed decisions. He should consult with his boss and Queen Marie before he went forward, but he did not know why they'd wait to schedule tests. It was not that late in the evening...was it?

He exited the hospital room and made his two calls, returning fifteen minutes late with a solemn expression. "The Queen wants him to be tested now," he relayed flatly. "If he is in a medically fragile state, we should move quickly to detect underlying conditions ere zey worsen." Glancing at the bandaged man lying in bed, Cornwall had a distinct feeling the royal family's entire world was steadily falling apart. If something was gravely wrong with the Crown Prince, the nation would be directionless. Prince Wilhelm had no interest in running the country, and he was a self-serving git; he'd never assume the position of monarch. And Alastair's eldest daughter was but fifteen. She was still an adolescent.

Thou had better be alright, he thought to Alastair, glowering stonily at the man as he twitched in his sleep.

[Mediama]

Marion looked up from her spot in the crock of Nia's neck, face flushed and smiling, "Such a charmer, you are." as she wrapped an arm around her and snuggled further into the embrace. She gave a peck on her cheek and along the jawline. "I would say that you were just as beautiful as the night sky as well. Though to describe your beauty and grace from what I've seen throughout the day would take me a millennia to possibly do it justice."

Deep inside, she felt contentment, and maybe something more. Though her instinct of propriety told her now may not be the appropriate time. Were they going too fast? Perhaps they needed to go on a date first.

Then again, what were they doing for the past few hours?

One thing's for sure as she and Nia looked over the ever-brightening skyline as the nightlife of the island came into being, and the children were tucked into their beds, something beautiful had started out of something oh so mundane.To think all of this started from an attempted rendezvous for a potential business partnership. My how things developed. She mused to herself.

And to think the night had only just begun.

Somewhere on the Beach.

Nia Sneachtúil, of Cefnffordd Descent.
I smiled, a small stab in my heart at the mentioning of something taking millenia.
Usually, we Spiorad aren't shy, when it comes to our life expectancy, but somehow, Marion mentioning it so casually... it made me twinge. I would be there – she wouldn't.
I shook my head, banishing the thought and focussing on the present.
“Say...”, I began, “I know a nice restaurant here on the island. They make very good seafood.” I looked at her with a small smile, the dog ears twitching on my head. “Are you interested? We could also invite Macha and the kids, so that we aren't looking too much like we were having a date.”
The last was accompanied by a wink.
It would be one, no question asked, but one did not need to be so on the nose with it.

Marion took a fraction of a second to slightly tilt her head towards Nia, only to see her twinge in sorrow. Just like that, she regretted her ad hoc waxed poetics. Though it didn't show on her own face, it was clear Nia had felt the pain of losing so many loved ones to the sands of time. They had gently went over it with the talks about Nia's old traveling group earlier that day.

How could Marion be such a fool?

Regardless, she kept a stiff upper lip. Now wasn't the time to wallow in sorrow, this was a beach festival afterall, and as Nia had pointed out, it had a night life to take advantage of. She internally sighed at Nia's mentiong of inviting Macha and the two little ones she met that day. It was almost as if she could read her mind on her hesitations of moving too fast.

It made sense when she thought about it, given how long she lived. She would've recognized the signs at this point like they were the back of her hand.

She flushed at Nia's wink, for even if their get-together with Macha wouldn't be seen as a date on the surface, it was clear sparks could fly in the background. Her heart skipped a beat or two at the possibilities.

After a beat or two of waiting, pretending she was thinking of the offer, Marion leaned in, she slowly moved her hands toward Nia's ears, giving her ample opportunity to gently move them away from her ears if she didn't want such a caress. Regardless, Marion leaned in for another kiss, smiling against Nia's lips as she deepened it. Moments felt like eternities.

When the broke away for air, she leaned in, her nose touching Nia's as she smiled, "That be quite lovely, Miss Nia. Quite lovely indeed."