multiversallogs | a late autumn wasp

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a late autumn wasp

Who: Everyone!
What: A harvest festival and talent show.
Where: Howl Barrow
When: Misdi, the first of Maryden.
Notes: Players are encouraged to invent NPCs, talent acts, or have their characters participate in the show. Have questions? Need to plot more? There's an OOC post for that.

The Zygoda squats in Howl Barrow like an extravagant toad, weighted down by enough decorative architecture to make a baroque angel blush. Live colourful birds - of which an alarming number appear to be cockatoos - roost between the columns and pillars of the facade. The light-up sign outside declares THIS NIGHT ONLY AT THE ZYGODA; AUTUMNAL FESTIVITIES; AMATEUR NIGHT; EVERYONE WELCOME; HARVEST PIES!

The street beneath it has turned into a carnival in its own right; there are tents and stalls selling anything from fortunes told, candy, face paint, and odd little handicrafts. There are street performers and vaudeville artists putting on shows that invite bystanders to join in. The crowd appears to be in a good mood, happy perhaps to be able to let lose and blow off some steam in a friendly context for once. Some wear masks, others are dressed in finery, and others still look like they just got out of work. No one seems to mind either way. The theatres doors stand open, inviting those who wish to step inside.

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The problem with relying on a púca's sense of self-control is that you never know when it may be tossed aside in favor of something more interesting ... or more fun. Tadhg's eyes sparkle mischievously as he polishes off the last bite of his pie. A social butterfly he is not and never has been, but neither is he a hermit. Tonight he feels the need to be with people, and he's quite glad that Angela found him.

"So, a róisín dubh, I take it that this is all just too staid and family-friendly for you?" he asks cheerfully. "I certainly can't have a friend getting bored. Did you have a striptease act in mind for the Zygoda, or possibly oil wrestling?" And with that he starts unbuttoning his vest.

Wow, he really makes it easy for her to get an eyeful, doesn't he? Far be it from Angela to shyly look away or blush or do anything in the coy department. She leans back on her heels, narrowing her eyes, looking as if she's deep in thought for anything in the world.

"How about both? I mean, if you want to do either or, don't let my choice stop you, but I wouldn't mind both." And this is why one never tempts Angela like this. Especially with a man who is threatening to undress in front of her.

Modesty and fae, two things that rarely meet. Human nudity taboos have never made much sense to Tadhg anyway. If anything, he grins wider at Angela's encouragement.

"Well now, as much as I enjoy helping out a friend--" The vest slides down his shoulders and off. "--I'm really not looking to get arrested my first week here. But I doubt I stand much chance of landing in jail just for going bare-chested--" Shirt parts company from his waistband and gets rucked up his torso. "--so the shirtless part I can provide."

Both garments wind up neatly draped over one arm as he once again offers the other to Angela. Tadhg now sports nothing above the waist besides his mask and a silver pendant (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y61/karihan/RP%20Whossits/1048.jpg) hanging low enough on his chest to be concealed by most shirts. And if there are any raging prudes in their vicinity, the mild ward of inattention he activated while reaching for that first button will make it easy for them to ignore anything that might upset their delicate sensibilities.

Somewhere, sometime, somebody is going to think Angela as fae with her lack of this modesty concept. It really won't be the first time. "Now people are going to think I picked up one of the performers to take home... and that's pretty much all right with me."

She laughs but it's suddenly cut off by her attention being diverted away from Tadhg's pecs to what's hanging down from his neck between them. The pendant sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, enough to get Angela to pay attention to something artistic.

"Pretty," she muses in a low voice, running her finger over the intricate knot work.

"Oh really?" And am I getting taken home then? would have been the next words to pass his lips, had he not noticed Angela's sudden interest in his warding medallion. He crafted the piece of silver to hold certain spells at the ready, and among those are measures (some subtle, some less so) to discourage theft of the ward itself.

Nothing serious to worry about, though. A slight shift so that she touches skin before she touches metal, a moment's focus, and he more or less tells the magic he placed in the pendant that Angela is a friend, not a cutpurse or pickpocket. It lies inert under finger, seeming nothing more than an ordinary piece of jewelry.

"Thank you," he murmurs at her compliment, noting her careful attention to detail. "The casting was fairly straightforward, but etching on the fine detail took time."

Oh, she'd take him home, wherever home is right now, but Angela's as distracted with something shiny as a magpie. Moving to hold it in her palm, she brushes it with her other hand, taking in the fine etching.

"You did it yourself?" She sounds impressed. Metalworking was never her forte. The closest thing she's ever got to working with metal was her Red Bull can sculptures on a night she had to stay awake.

"I did, yes." Tadhg smiles, pleased by both the compliment to his crafting and the gentle brush of the back of her hand on his chest. "I made one for every member of my family, a different design for each."

He distracts himself from dwelling on his family with the recollection that Angela prefers his eyes in their natural state and drops their concealing glamour. It feels so strange to do so in public, but he has to admit he's seen far more unusual-looking people around than simply a man with animal eyes.

Angela nods at his answer, still impressed at the crafting and what had to have been long hours and probably some frustration put into it. But she's held onto the charm long enough and she lets it fall back onto his skin, with a gentle pat to it as she glances up to notice the change in his eyes.

"Thank you." Her voice is soft and warm, sounding genuine with the words.

"You're very welcome." His tone shows his pleasure with her preference for his undisguised appearance, but there's a gentle hint of uncertainty as well, as if he's not sure what to do with her thank you. He wonders for a fleeting moment if he shouldn't be thanking her instead.

"So how are you doing?" he asks, his voice matching hers for softness.

No need to thank her just for her preferring people stay themselves around her. However, her thank you is for him feeling comfortable enough to drop it in general, though Angela is appreciative that he does it around her.

"I could be better," she confesses, dropping her eyes from his. Her happy-go-lucky attitude is natural, but what underlies that is sadness and homesickness. All that time she wanted to get out of the City and just leave... she didn't mean leave and go somewhere else, skipping home completely.

Tadhg can't always claim a full understanding of human beings, but loneliness sounds much the same in any language. He responds to the sadness in her eyes by slipping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze.

"If ever you need an ear to bend or a shoulder to lean on, lass, I've two of each to spare." He pulls a droll face. "Or if it's cheering up you need, I could try Kissing the Carp. That ought to be good for a chuckle."

Her mood lightens considerably, both from the hug and the offer to get intimate with seafood. For his troubles, he gets a smile out of her.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think that was an euphemism." But she does know better and she'd be a liar if she said she didn't wish it was. Alas.

Outwardly, he seems to give her comment some serious consideration. Inwardly ... he gives her comment serious consideration.

"It certainly could be," he offers at last. "But if it were, it would be good for more than a chuckle, surely." That smile looks more than a little smug, sir.

"I don't know," she says, drawing out the words as if she's giving this concept a good thinking over. "A good-natured chuckle is needed if it was one. You see, fun and all."

Emphasis on good-natured, not the point down and giggle kind of chuckle.

"Oh, absolutely," he rambles on cheerfully. "I'm just saying that chuckling isn't all you'd be doing. And of course my mouth would be occupied, so chuckling would be difficult, you know, at the time..."

He pauses, his brow furrowing. "Of course we could be thinking of two different euphemisms. That happens to me quite a bit."

"I'm thinking about sex." She looks at him directly in the eye. Leave it to Angela to be blunt and horribly forward about it. "I'm hoping your mouth would be occupied during that."

Blunt and forward? Not a problem, if anything Tadhg looks relieved when Angela comes out with her bald declaration. "Oh good, we are on the same page then." Arm still around her shoulders, he gives her another hug. "And it would be. Along with everything else, of course."

"Hopefully, we're in the same book, even."

Really, they are and all that needs to be done is a time and place confirmation since it's crystal clear that there is something going on between these two clowns.

"But you see," Angela begins, moving a little closer to Tadhg, "You say that but ultimately, I will be the judge of that.'

"As it should be, a chara." Tadhg's serenely confident expression seems to say you'll see soon enough, lovely lady. He has had nearly a century of practice, after all.

But for now, he's content to stroll and people-watch with his friend tucked under his arm. "So, more pie? Or is there anything else you'd like to see?"

Edited 2011-12-05 00:06 (UTC)

She takes a few long moments to glance around festival, even though Angela knows well and good that it no longer commands her attention like the man she holds onto does. Shame on her for having such a one track min.

"Less seeing and more knowing?" Angela raises a single eyebrow. "About you, that is."

Tadhg's own mind shifted focus from their surroundings to his companion some time ago, trying to decipher what about Angela makes her so easy to talk to, why his instincts prod him to trust her. Integrity, perhaps. As she wants him to be entirely himself around her, so she seems to want to be entirely herself around him. And since she's warm and fun to be around in the bargain...

"I'll satisfy your curiosity if you'll satisfy mine, lass." The mischievous twinkle returns to his eyes. "What would you like to know?"

"Are you single?" Well, easy enough to get that out of the way first. Once she gets an answer, Angela can consider her next step. "Because if you're married, that'll just be sad on all counts."

She grins, still. Marriage is sacred to her. Before the vows, however... well, as long as no one is hurt and all parties know, she is okay with it.

Well now. Not exactly the first question Tadhg expected, but certainly not an unreasonable one given the trend of their conversation. Integrity indeed, and he responds in kind.

"I am quite single, yes." A small hesitation sneaks in between his words, and a hint of wistfulness creeps into his voice. "I do have a little daughter at home, but I've never been married."

"Oh." Angela noticed the hesitation, wondering if he was going to say that he was gay or something else that's more in the horrifying category. Like a spouseeater.

She has an active imagination, okay?

"Aww, how little?" Her expression softens at the word of a kid. Nothing gets her ovaries up and running like tinies.

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a late autumn wasp

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