nytcwl

[nytcwl]

❝ Roland? ❞ Lana narrowed her eyes at him, a hint of confusion on her face. He wasn’t part of her search group...was he? No, he wasn’t. Otherwise, she would know. She would remember. It would be something that she would most definitely not forget. If him crashing into her was of any concern, it was not visible on her face. She was more concerned about her presence in the forest, if he, too, had also lost something important to his very existence. ❝ What are you doing here? Have you lost something, too? ❞ ❝ It is...going, ❞ she heaved a sigh at the question, clearly exhausted. Not just physically, too, clearly. The loss of her obsidian ring has rendered her nights vulnerable to nightmarish visions, past versions of her stalking her dreams to remind her of the sins she has committed...and might still commit. Who she was, who she is, that has always been a problem, one that she feels like she cannot fully solve. ❝ I am not entirely sure I have any, or if I deserve any, or if I’ll ever get any, ❞ Lana shook her head, now scowling. The uncertainty that comes with such a hunt has never been fun for her. There had been times, years before, when she indulged in such things, but this one was different. This one, she was not hunting something that was not hers before. This one, she was trying to take back something that keeps the darkness inside at bay. Still, she mustered a weak smile, the sight of him somewhat refreshing, a respite from all the worries the disappearance has caused her, ❝ It is nice to see your face, though. Maybe I can sit on it once this is all over. ❞

@nytcwl lana and roland location: southern forest, time: early afternoon

the afternoon rays are peeking through the trees by the time roland reaches the southern forest in his search. he's made his rounds through town and imani's necklace is still not recovered. maybe he should have joined in on the organized groups, but he really wasn't interested in sharing why his object was important to him. losing at this game he and many around town were pulled into without their consent or knowledge is leading to roland feeling more demoralized by the second. not only does he hate losing, but he doesn't think imani deserves to have nothing left commemorating her life. he doesn't think he's ready to sever his only tie left to her.

when he's launching himself across a small creek cutting through the southern forest, he has to swivel to the side to not fully crash into lana. he really shouldn't have worn these shoes, while he could always find another pair -- he does really like them and they're likely to get stained. ❝ sorry lana, i didn't think anyone was out here. ❞ a testament to how locked in his own mind he was. his voice sounds tired, almost apathetic. a far cry from the flirtatious, smooth-talker she's more accustomed to running into since the masquerade. hopefully it isn't written all over his face. ❝ how is your search going? any leads? ❞

[nytcwl]

❝ Unfortunately, no, ❞ Umi heaved a sigh, frowning. It was an admission that left a bitter taste in her mouth, especially when she began thinking of how she was robbed of such things growing up just because she wasn’t human. ❝ I never once had an opportunity to indulge in such things, ❞ she added, wondering if maybe others like her, fellow merfolk, had experienced sleepovers. Considering how isolated and hard her life was, and how exceptions exist at any point in time, she realized maybe it was not because she was not human but because she just rolled terribly fate’s grand dice. Her demeanor shifted immediately at the sound of face masks and wine, her eyes sparkling at the very thought, the very imagery that entailed, ❝ That sounds absolutely wonderful! I would love that! ❞ ❝ That is so nice of you, Marlowe, ❞ Umi felt herself warm up a little inside. It was not such an impossible idea, for a human to gorge themselves on a merfolk. Where did she read that again? The part about merfolk being close enough to fish that humans might find them delicious? So many articles and books over the years have brushed on the topic, despite being theories on fantastical versions of her kind, that they have all blended together in the most hideous of ways. Umi simply nodded at her addition, finding it very unnecessary to offer more notes when she already had the best one in her book. The merfolk watched the human closely throughout and cheered when she succeeded, making tiny claps with her hands not unlike a seal would to attract attention or food, ❝ You did! Amazing! It was all you! You’re a great student! ❞ With Marlowe’s line now in the water, Izumi followed suit with her own, finding it much easier due mostly to how it was a daily routine for her. She heaved a sigh of delight as the waiting game has now begun, ❝ When was the last time you had a sleepover? How was it? ❞

❝ you've never been to a proper sleepover!? ❞ marlowe is absolutely flabbergasted, then immediately a bit sad. sleepovers were her favorite thing when she was younger. an easy way to get out of her house for a night or two and have an excuse to be goofy all night with close friends. ❝ then it's settled. we'll fix that immediately. with all the works. face masks, painting each others nails, and adult sleepovers have wine. ❞ it would definitely do them both well to have some company at night. marlowe's certainly looking for distractions from her wandering mind at night.

she chuckles at the offer. ❝ i guess i'll have to keep that in my back pocket, but i would rather have you here than on my dinner plate. ❞ luckily for the pair of them, people invading her personal space doesn't typically bother her. she tries to remain as loose and pliant as possible as umi adjusts her stance, because she really doesn't want to fail at casting out her line and get the hook caught on one of them in some capacity. or barely get it past the waves crashing below their feet.

however, prolonged eye contact does make her a little nervous and it's when umi speaks that she sees how close they are. thank god loey brushed her teeth this morning. ❝ and it's all about momentum, not launching it right out of my hands. ❞ she remembers that much. she takes a few moments to familiarize herself with the feel of the rod and the line before taking a deep breath and following through with casting her line out. then she squeals in delight when it successfully goes out a little over twenty feet. ❝ i did it!! you're the best teacher! ❞

[nytcwl]

❝ Oh, my apologies then, ❞ Lana shook her head, lamenting the death of a complete stranger. For someone to have lived a good, long life, given birth to children, and made a home with a family, only to end up in eternal damnation, where she believed she herself would end up once her time on earth was over, was truly not fair. Lana has accepted her fate, justified by the things she has done and will continue to do to serve her own purposes, but being a mother and a wife, two arduous tasks, fates that to her would be synonymous with cruel slavery, should be an exception. Have those women not suffered enough hell after all? ❝ That is a hefty promise to make, ❞ she shook her head again, this time scoffing. To be fair, Lana has only been in one McDonald’s before, which was in Spain with its upscale interior design of marble and floor-to-ceiling windows. That was her first and last time in a McDonald’s, all thanks to an immortal Inquisitor who apparently exists in every McDonald’s at every point in time. ❝ I have a lot of guilty pleasures, actually, ❞ Lana raised her face by the nose in an unintentionally exaggerated emphasis on how hoity-toity she could be...despite all things considered. With eyes closed, she imagined she looked like a very classy woman, someone men like Roland would not be able to afford, someone she herself would not be able to afford. Then she opened one eye to witness his reaction to her most important question, ❝ Do you have tiny cakes of coffee? Big cakes of coffee? ❞

❝ wherever we all go when we pass on. but she lived a good, long life. ❞ he knew that much about his family. they were able to move on without him, which is all he could really ask for though he couldn't tell from the outside how much his memory lingered with them. better for them to miss him than to potentially get caught in the crossfire of his new life -- or have to explain to them why he didn't age -- in his mind. he chuckles at her next statement, his brow briefly wrinkling with confusion. then his face twists into a display of brief mock horror when she uses mcdonalds and fancy i the same sentence. ❝ i promise our chefs will make you regret ever using mcdonalds and fancy in the same sentence. we strive for a delectable experience in every aspect here. more on the tiny cakes side of your scale. tell me, what's your guilty pleasure when it comes to food? ❞

[nytcwl]

EVENT 002: THE HIDE AND SEEK (UMI)

As if the death of the King of the merfolk has not brought enough instability into the ocean, many things go wrong in the night during which nobody wakes. One of them will be the havoc that breaks loose when the res of the merfolk discovers that Amaros’ necklace has gone missing. But that is not the only thing gone and vanished from their usual spot, Umi’s pearl necklace is nowhere to be found, either. 

Waves crash harder against the beach than they usually would, kind of as if the water can feel the rage spread out through the city and sea. 

However, someone has arranged shells and corals on the ocean ground to read a riddle for her to solve, and they are not affected by the heavy waves, in fact, they are not moving at all:

“Some seek me, others fear me. I reveal truths but never speak. What am I?”

izumi tokugawa, welcome to the hide & seek! who are you playing with? well, wouldn’t you like to know. your character is one sacred object. they can choose to search for it, or they can get lost in their worry and don’t. (but who knows, maybe they’ll find their way back home on their own). your character was sorted into search group number 3, harlow, myles and daphne.

please post this plot drop and your character’s reaction to it, which can be as short as one paragraph, or as long as you want. you can make two choices for your character: are they searching for their lost family member? can they solve their riddle or not? please include these choices in your reaction response.

Umi stared at the unmoving shells and corals, abandoned abodes and skeletons of the denizens of the deep, all what remained and were left behind by those before them. She herself floated unfazed, more annoyed than anything.❝ Someone has their sights set on us, ❞ she mumbled to herself, though that someone might even be a something. It wouldn’t be the first time for her. She did initially think that this attack was more of a statement against the changing of tides in merfolk society, but when she found out her pearl necklace also went missing, she realized right then and there that whatever was going on involved her more than she understood. ❝ Someone with a thing for mirrors. ❞

That was the answer to the question written in homes and bones, right? A mirror? It was the only thing that crossed Izumi’s mind, the only thought to come clear to her despite all the other muddled mumblings of fury that began to drown her brain. ❝ Whatever… Whoever… They will be found, ❞ Umi began to swim away, back to the surface, back to where the rest of them were. She made a plan in her head to talk to the rest of her restaurant staff again, the merfolk who would know more about the rumblings of their kin more than her. Then to other outside of her sphere of influence, new faces, old faces she had yet to befriend. ❝ Whatever it takes. I will get my pearls back.❞ 

[nytcwl]

EVENT 002: THE HIDE AND SEEK (LANA)

The darkest, oldest witches are usually also the wisest, no matter what they use their magic for. They have met almost every single use of power, and yet, Lana is still affected by the night of endless and deep sleep, that nobody in town can overcome. Darkness clouds her mind like it clouds the others’, and when she can finally wake, her place has changed.

Her obsidian ring is missing from it’s usual place, but it was taken without someone else leaving a trace. Though there is something for her to see left behind: A riddle, written out of flowers ripped from the ground, smelling suspiciously like death.

“A misty curtain, rarely to be lifted, you must be certain, or you could be rifted. What am I?”

svetlana romanova, welcome to the hide & seek! who are you playing with? well, wouldn’t you like to know. your character is missing one sacred object. they can choose to search for them, or they can get lost in their worry and don’t. (but who knows, maybe they’ll find their way back home on their own). your character was sorted into search group number 1, alongside natalia, lino and cole.

please post this plot drop and your character’s reaction to it, which can be as short as one paragraph, or as long as you want. you can make two choices for your character: are they searching for their lost object? can they solve their riddle or not? please include these choices in your reaction response.

Lana had a huge grin on her face. The sun was shining down on her and her big brother as they sat on the grass, a nearby oak tree providing shade in the open backyard of a three-story, three-winged mansion that highlighted the detailed craftsmanship and structural innovation of Antoni Gaudi. I always hoped that it had been something like this — heavenly, calm, and vivid. Basically hope, without the prerequisite misery.

❝ Have you already figured it out, Svetlana? ❞ her brother asked, a worried expression on his occasionally blurry face.

❝ You always have bad timing, brother, ❞ Lana heaved a sigh, her bright smile turning into a disappointed scowl. ❝ This is my dream. I will take my time. ❞

❝ T̷̹̯̙̜̜̻̹̠̘͂i̵̡̨̺̹͎͗̊ͅm̶̺͑̌̃͗ě̷̢̼̦̟͉͉̪̬̗͘ ̵͕̀̽̾̎́̒̈́̕i̷̲̗̦̤͋͋̄̽̈́s̷̛̜̮͍̰̤̲̈́̌̋̓̈́̓͘͜͝ ̵̖̪͖̜̖͕̙̈́͛̈́̈́̀͑̋͜͝ͅn̶̢̨̫̼̱̰̩̦̝̊o̴̥͙̞̣͈̥͚͝ ̵͎̀͐̽͛̃͋͝l̵̨̨͙̜̠͍̝̞̩͑o̷̟̓n̸͋̕��̥̫̉̇́̄͗̏g̵̡̎̓̆̂̋̅ē̶̡̡̪̦͇̱̝̘͎̊̂͒̌̚r̶̪̣̘̟͔̉̆ ̸̧̳̝͖̪̯̥͖̲̭͒̒͑ẙ̶̭̜͓̻̈́͋͆̍̈́̉̾̓̚ò̸͓̻̩̮̲̰̲̫̫̀̃̈́͂͊̏̍u̷͚̒͋̍̾̈́͌̓̐ṛ̸̡͙̣̥͇̖̜͘ ̴̮̳̙̱̝̯̳͈̼̣̎f̸̛͎͈͓̱̳̈́̑͐̋̃͝͠r̴̢̩̮͒́̇̋͐͆́͆́ì̶͕̼̻͌̈́̃̊̈e̸̡͇͚̤͕̱̋̅̽̕̚͝n̵̩̤̠̤̿̉̉̎͌͠͠ḑ̸̭̰̟̝̼̠̈́̅̓̌̕,̴̻͍͖̩̟͎̩̟͘ ̸̛̀̑̔̇́͒̀̒͘͜d̴̬̖̺̘͇̀̇̋̂̌̔̑͘a̵̧̢̮̤̠͙̭͍̭̟̋̍̀̂͝r̷̨̪̘͈͈͓͓͓̮̥̒k̷̢̨̹͚̗͉̩̰̮͑̃̀͆̈̏̉̾͘ ̶̛͈̩͒̿́̈́̌c̷̢̀ḩ̶̼̩̼̯̻̣̀͐̀ͅi̵͚̘̰͕͖̭̖̖͍̋͝l̶̨̯̱͕͌ḑ̸̛͓͔̼̱͎̰͇͌̍̀̾̃͝, ❞ her brother’s features began to morph, twisting into a nightmarish form that barely resembled his barely visible likeness, now resembling Lana’s own, though deformed and hellishly grotesque. The malformed abomination suddenly appeared behind her instead of where it had been, wrapping its spindly black arms, ❝ ̴̧̡͈̣̙̳̬̞̆͆̃̇͝ͅͅI̶̥̦͑̇͋̇t̸̬̯͙̟̞͎̼͋̚ ̵̨̣̳̳̻̪̮̖͛̉̇̔̀̎̓̉h̶̯̬̑̏̽̅͒͐͛͊a̴̢̛͎͖̝͐̍̅́͆͝͝s̸̟̤̣͋͑̉ ̶̛̗̙̍̍͒̃̋͛̚̚a̵̮͉͠b̴͉̪̯̗̼͓̹̑͜a̵͓͂̚͝n̴̡̡̨̰͍͇͊̉͂͂͗͆̓̚̕͠d̸̞͉̣͍͈͖̟̟͛̏͆́̂ǫ̷̜͍̰̽̐n̶̢̹̘̱͙̙̙̰̆̓́̂̅̉̊̽̅̂è̷̞͎͙̞͚̝̜̟̲̝d̷̨̗̻́̏̊̇̉̌́ ̵̢̻̟̻͚͚͖̩͚̙́͛͌̃̀̉́͝͝ý̸̧͙̘͍̲͙̉̉͆͘͠o̸̻̩̞̫̙͈͍̭̯͇̾̈́͋̆u̴̡͍̮͕͍͑̓̈́͌̽̊͊̓̌,̷̖͋̓̏̈́̇̈́̀͑̐̚ ̶̡̜̥̭̺͈̭͍͓̲͐͘a̴̦̯̓̓̏̈́̇̄̀͐̉̇n̵̮̆̓͗́́d̷̺͔͔͖̜̲̫̓̓̿͜ ̴̧̗̬̾̑̇̍̄͒̾͝i̴̛̫͔̋̓́f̷̼̩͕̪͉̺̙̥͑̍̋́͊̆͜͝ͅ ̵̧̤̠͕̭͎̤̹̌̈́̃͊̉͝y̶̰͖͂̃o̷̧͓̥͔͎͛ȗ̶͉͎͉̲͕̝̝̮͊͑̆̔̕ͅ ̸̡̝͕͖̓̏͗̋̐̅̀̑̇d̴̲̳̽̄̈́͊̏̈́̌̏͝o̴͘��̣̥̱̫̱͒̈́̒̓̉͝ͅͅn̸̢̡̨̩̠̣̼͚͈̅̈́̓̐̕'̶̗̠͔͍̂́̓̅̉̋̋͑͂̚ţ̵̺̺̲͆ ̶̨̪͓̱̇̒͑̋̽̉ḩ̴̫̫̯̻̱͙̈́̉̒́̃͋̈́ͅu̴͉͓̓r̵̡̼͙̭̄̿̀͋͆͘r̷̘̭̯͔̟̦̊̿̿ͅͅy̵̮̩̙͉͇̟̦͂͑͐̓̎͜,̵̖̭̺̭̺͈̜͈̠̞̈́́͌́̚͝ ̷̠̖̹̗̬͔͌̿̅̉͘ỵ̴̦͕̦̤͕̠̠͋͒́̇̀̚o̸͕̱͂͑͒̓̉ű̸̡̖̮̫̮͜͠ ̵̨̛̦̬̿̄̒͋͆̿w̶̛͈̠̳̲̬͎͈͇͂̈́͐̈́̇͑̅͝i̴̺͉͙̪͍͓͌͝l̶̨̳͍͇̦͈͓̭̺͓͛̆̋͊̐͗̕͝l̵̡̲̰͍̠͓̊ͅ ̷͓͈̫̟͙͕̎̎̈́̊̋̉͜é̸͓̟̫̜̖͔̭̓͆͆ņ̵̭̗̟̹̟̎̓̂̇͠d̸͖͛̈́̒̒̍͒̒̓͘ ̷̛̜͖͖͈̼̪͓͉̦͔̎̌̏̑u̸̯͍͈̹͐̎̔̎̈͝͝ṗ̵̨͇̻̩͈̪̀̽ ̵̩̼͉̪̻̖̘̃ȃ̷̢̜̘͓̩͐͌͌͌ḇ̵͙̩̱̳̀̓̈́̍̈̏͑á̶͖͌͜n̸͔̤̳͕̰͛̌ͅḍ̴̡̦̳̞͔̀̎͛̈́̍͘o̶̡̜̗̖̊́̈́͑͝͝͝ṇ̶̪͎̺̣̋͗̔ī̵̟̱͇̩͂̉̏̏̓̔͠n̵̹̯̼̦̺̺͋́́͊̾̀g̶̢̧̘̜̹̳̤̠̼̰̽̉̐̆̀ ̶̡̧̟̗͔̗͉̮̱͐̆y̵̺̜̩̟͇͈̓̔͐̔̏̈́̑ō̷̡̦͖̩̭͔͗̕͠û̵̧̩̳̗͎͙̹r̶̢̤̝͖͐̄̿̀͑̿͑̀̍͘s̸̫͍̫͙̰͓̲͗͑̓͐́͐̈͜ȩ̸͖̫̼̜̖̪͙̻͛̔͜l̵̜͇̫̩͍͍̓̽͑̔̓͊̀f̸͙̲̒̌̆ͅ! ❞

Lana screamed, breaking out of her nightmare and violently returning to her body, arms and legs flailing in bed, tossing and casting aside white sheets and pillows, as she furiously forced herself awake. Heaving and panting, she placed a hand on her forehead, beads of sweat all over her bare skin glistening as patches of sunlight breached her room.

Then she remembered something, what that thing had said, and with eyes wide in horror, she dashed to where the obsidian ring was, finding nothing but the stinky riddle in dying flora once more. Lana knitted her eyebrows together, letting out a very annoyed tsk followed immediately by,  ❝ I guess I really have to start searching for that ring now… ❞  

❝ What search group was I in again? What was the riddle for? And what does FOG have anything to do with that stupid ring? ❞ The dark witch rolled her eyes dramatically, heaved a very audible sigh, and proceeded to search for clothes, ❝ That Japanese well-w#$%@ better not have anything to do with this again or I swear to all the gods, I am giving her a swirlie in Harlow’s toilet. ❞ 

[nytcwl]

❝ Yes, and every time, you irk me with your unnecessary little games, ❞ Lana heaved a sigh as she recalled the specific annoying moments that she had to endure in the name of capitalism, the very thought of which would have rocked her from her very core. Of course, things changed over the decades, and although she did her best to find some of those changes, they inevitably won, forcing her to contend with things like...Harlow. She instinctively leaned back at his revelation, sucking her teeth and pushing her away, ❝ Is this another one of your annoying little games? ❞ Lana glared at him with all the fury she could muster, her disappointment at her supposed tour guide turned inexperienced wanderer quickly transformed into intense frustration. She was so looking forward to be entranced by his mastery of such bars, his prowess in all things gay, as that cultural demographic has kept out of her reach save for some passing mingling here and there over the years. Lana had thought that this time would be different, that she would finally be welcomed, embraced, by the flamboyant and extremely fun atmosphere that she had only seen in her old timey television, that she had longed for for quite some time now, that she had been deprived of just because she had never been lucky enough to capture their interest. Sad, but in Russian. ❝ What kind of a gay man does not know any gay bars?! ❞ Lana roared, forgetting she was basically a Russian who did not know what the modern Russian enjoys culture-wise these days. Her brain hyper-focused on her disappointment, her anger, that she failed to see the bigger picture, as per usual, ❝ What do you do for gay fun then? ❞

He makes a face at the 'good boy'. Clicking his tongue a little in disapproval. If only she knew him better. But their time of knowing one another had clearly not been one that was intimate enough for her to know him better, other than the surface level of tentative trading buddies. An acquaintance. Harlow eyes her up and down, grinning, however. It was unfortunate that someone in such a lovely form was this impatient, he lamented to himself. Among other clear flaws Lana had, that Harlow wasn't one to focus much on, either, “Of course. We have done plenty of business together.” Which is why he liked messing with her here and there about it.

It did get so very boring to keep with the same routine, especially when she would flirt, and he would not be receptive to such advances. Not because he was homosexual, which he wasn't, exactly, but because he wasn't very receptive to romance anyway, or similar. He was one who liked to just jump in on the occasion when it came across, none of this game stuff. Unless it was roleplaying a situation in the bedroom. Now that he could certainly get behind. Had she even touched his hair, instead of poked his flesh directly, that would have inspired some interest from him. But Lana, in all this time knowing him, had not picked up on these cues. But it wasn't her fault, he wasn't exactly putting them on display. Seeing her disappointment at the check, he grins, still very amused by these little expressions and shifting moods, like a storm.

Inhaling, he nodded, not really sure he believed she actually knew, but still, wasn't in the business of caring enough to question it, “Good!” He chirps lightly, then, as she grabs his arm, he blinks toward her, a little taken aback by her words. She actually thought he might be gay? Laughing a little, he bites on his lips, nodding his head, “Yes! That's what everyone does, after these things, I've learned. They drink, they have fun.” Harlow sighed then, “I'm going to be honest, though, Lana… I've not been to any gay bars.” Baring his teeth a little, he sucked in a breath through his tightly clenched mouth, “Sorry.” Waiting a moment, then he went on, “I do know a pretty good bar, though.” Leading her, then, out of the room. To head for a bar.

[nytcwl]

❝ Good boy, ❞ Lana’s lips curled into a satisfied grin. It was, to her, as if she was speaking to a familiar, which made her feel good about everything again. Stretching a hand to receive her payment, which she believed she would get right then and there, and in cash, as she often did, she shook her head at his questions, ❝ No, I prefer my business simple and straight to the point: I sell, you pay. Easy busy, lemonade-y. ❞ Lana narrowed her eyes at him as she moved toward his guitar, keeping herself quiet so she can focus on receiving her payment. When she realized that her pay was going to be through a check, she frowned, though she accepted it nonetheless, heaving a sigh to emphasize her disappointment. ❝ I know, ❞ she mumbled as she carefully placed the check inside her bra, unfazed at whatever reaction he would have. It wasn’t like her perky breasts would interest him anyway. Then she remembered the drinks thing and her expression became more positive again, swiftly taking his arm into her own, ❝ Yes to the drinks! Always! Now take me to your favorite gay bar, my new favorite gay friend! ❞

His eyebrows raised briefly, grinning at her, he nodded his head lightly, “Sure.” Harlow agreed, not really concerned about what that could have meant. Lana was a little weird, so he tried not to spend too much time thinking about the depths of what was going on inside her head sometimes. Whatever she meant by that, he would take it at face value until it did not suit him that way. Strumming lightly on the strings of his guitar, he lifted his head, listening as she carried on, teams, agreeing with him, he ate up every word, for now, “Yeah! No one can know us better than ourselves, anyway.”

Blinking as she asked why not round it up, he glanced to one side. “You know what, you're so right. That's a silly price, alright. I'll buy it for fifty thousand!” Harlow agreed. Glancing to one side as he did, he finished off his lemon slices, placing the last into his mouth and chewing. A grin played over his lips as he chewed. Letting the moment of quiet between them settle before she finally continued, “Oh? You don't like a little flair? But wouldn't that get you more- not to just be flamboyant, but- entertaining? Weird? Peculiar?” Harlow questioned, making a face at her, confused.

“Everyone I know puts on a show so often when trying to get what they want out of something, especially in business.” Sighing, he plucks a few strings. Then moved to stand holding the guitar to the side, “Alright. So, the bar? Drinks?” He reminded, moving to grab his mug of tea, and downing it. Moving, he held his hand up for the rock, then, and in his other hand, he had pulled out a check for fifty thousand from his back pocket, grinning, “Always a pleasure making deals with you Lana, you know.”

[nytcwl]

❝ He had valid points, ❞ Umi shrugged, taking another sip of her drink, as she looked around the room to survey who else was nearby. She wasn’t exactly looking for someone else to converse with, definitely not a replacement, but anyone who might be in the business of overhearing other conversations. ❝ That and there are no good and evil people, only good and evil actions, ❞ she mockingly smiled at an older woman who was staring at her, at them, at Mr. Riddle? Regardless, the merfolk’s mockery was too obvious, intentionally so, that it didn’t take the onlooker long to realize her eyes were being shooed away. ❝ People do either to serve their own purposes, needs and wants, not the ill-conceived absolutes of a truly complicated existence. ❞ ❝ Everything, ❞ Izumi’s right eyebrow raised on its own as she turned to face him again, her interest violently piqued by the man’s words. Truth be told, she was not a devoted businesswoman. She put together a team that could be independent of her after all, a general manager and a head chef that would succeed with minimal need to bother her with the most minute of details. But that never meant she wouldn’t do evil things, necessary things to ensure her business never ceases to exist. ❝ Customers are important, but my business is also a community in itself: I dare not risk the wellbeing of my people, which is why I aim to make sure yours will not, in any way, affect them negatively. ❞

His smile only widened when he heard her explanation, a world full of contrast instead one full of black and white. A world full of different understandings of what could be defined as truly bad or truly evil. “ You seem like someone who believes in the ideal of Nietzsche. I like his idea that what is good and evil is defined by custom. I can say that we can apply it to modern society. We see good and evil according to our perception.” A new business connection with someone as openly minded as her definitely widened his horizons, for she would not ask questions she did not need the answer to.

“It is not necessarily a secret that I would like to share with you, secrets are for our closest ones.” And he would always keep his business partners at an arm’s length. “  I think we need to look at the way we view our own businesses, I would say there is nothing I would not do for their satisfaction. I believe in exceptional customer service.” Even if sometimes he had to hurt others. “ Our businesses differ but what would you be willing to do for yours?”

[nytcwl]

❝ Oh, really? ❞ Umi’s widening eyes matched Marlowe’s, the merfolk’s excitement inspired by the other’s. She could only imagine how wonderful it would be, but basing on her newly made friend’s reaction, it must truly be wonderful. ❝ That sounds absolutely exciting, ❞ she nodded her head in ecstatic approval, delighted eyes never leaving Marlowe’s. It was the only endorsement she needed. The shows she’s seen, with their different yet similar portrayals of the pastime, could never compare to a living person’s, a real person’s, enthusiasm for it. ❝ I’ve never been to a proper one, so I’ll have to take your word for it. ❞ ❝ It’s alright! It was my fault after all, ❞ Umi raised her hands to her chest and started waving them, an apologetic look on her face. If anyone made it weird, it was probably her, though she wasn’t quite sure as to why it would be weird. If they weren’t friends, and if Marlowe was ever on the menu, she would do her the honor of eating her appropriately. She expected the same if the tables were turned. It must be just a human thing, the weirdness of it all. Umi decided that she would have to note that down later so she wouldn’t forget, ❝ If you ever need to, though, just ask. I’m sure I would be honored to be eaten by you. ❞ ❝ Maybe I can help? ❞ Umi lowered her own rod, leaving it on the ground, as she moved behind Marlowe. She began to do the fishing equivalent of the pottery scene in that Ghost movie, arranging gently Marlowe’s stance and positioning with her hands, feet, and even knee. It took her a few more seconds than necessary, her inner perfectionist taking full hold of her brain throughout the journey, but after basically ignoring all existing and non-existing rules of personal space, she stared into Marlowe’s eyes, a breath separating their noses, ❝ Hold your rod here, fingers like this, and when you release, make sure you are at the peak of your forward swing. ❞

her eyes widen in excitement at the suggestion. ❝ a slumber party? count me in any time! seriously. the magic of the three am giggles is so lost in womanhood. like, sure, going out is fun... but staying in can be way more special. ❞ maybe she's geeking out a bit, but she's always loved a good sleepover and time with her friends. plus, the idea of staying in feels a lot more inviting than how she's been coping so far with the news of hunters and vampires and werewolves entering her life. not to mention, she thinks she and umi get along very well, despite only having recently met each other. it will be nice to make more memories with her.

a loud boisterous laugh erupts out of marlowe when umi clarifies the miscommunication. there might have even been a snort in the mix, marlowe's not sure. she's a little embarrassed that she hadn't caught on to what umi had met to be completely sure if she's maybe embarrassed herself a bit further. ❝ eat with me! i really should have picked up on that being what you meant since i brought us snacks. i've totally made this weird haven't i? please ignore my previous question. ❞

❝ we could totally get some more food and picnic on the beach! i have the dessert covered, clearly. ❞ she's got a free day and a wandering mind that would love to be preoccupied. she's kept to herself a lot since coming back to town and even if the illumination of the world around her by the moonlit masquerade's got her feeling isolated in a brand new way, she's loving having a new friend to spend time with. ❝ yeah i have, but it feels like at least two lifetimes ago. ❞ she fiddles with the gadget for a few moments before successfully holding up a shrimp attached to it. ❝ now we only have to hope i remember how to cast without getting my hook caught elsewhere. ❞

[nytcwl]

❝ A lot, ❞ Lana playfully smirked, her pale blue eyes wandering down his pants, zeroing in between his legs, lingering there for an emphatic amount of time, before they went all the way back up to meet his. ❝ I am glad to have you on the same team. ❞ It was a phrase she heard once or twice through an analog television shared with a Spanish woman in Barcelona. She almost laughed at the memory, delighting that she was finally able to use it. ❝ True, ❞ she shrugged, her lips turning upside down but it was not a protest or anything akin to dislike. She agreed with the thought wholeheartedly. She herself had spent too much time with herself, knowing every nook and cranny there was to know, falling in love and out of love with who she was twice over. ❝ No one can truly appreciate who you really are. ❞ ❝ Forty-four? Why not just make it fifty thousand? ❞ Lana scoffed, shaking her head, a hand journeying on a hip. It was too many numbers, not enough of her attention span to bring it all together. She decided right then and there to have it rounded up, though whether the up was too much never crossed her mind. If it was past forty, then it must be fifty. Russian economics. Or perhaps more appropriately, just Lana economics. ❝ I prefer my business without any of that...flamboyant stuff. It is fine, and fun, elsewhere, everywhere, but not when business is involved. ❞

Harlow saw how she continued to react. A playful smirk threatened to spread over his lips, but he continued to mask this with an affable, slight smile, “Oh?” He asked, looking confused, innocently dropping his head a little as he wondered what that might have been about. Though as Lana continued, he quickly looked back at her, looking even more confused as he played up another smile, “Explains…what, Lana?” Harlow asks, raising an eyebrow, silver eyes again locking onto her own icy blue gaze.

Harlow could see her return to ice queen form, and might have thought it more amusing he was Lana Repellant, it must have been…strange, for her, he supposed. She seemed the sort to flash that crystalline gaze, brush her hand seductively across anyone, and win most people over. It was fun to fuck with her, in any case, he was discovering.

Leaning up, he continued to look confused, reaching out for another slice of lemon, he tossed it into his mouth, crushing it between his tongue and the top of his mouth as Lana spoke again. Chewing, he points, swallowing after a moment, “I don't know. I like to think I'm delightful to be around.” He paused appropriately before saying, “But that's because I'm around me all the time. I should maybe like myself, right? Doesn't mean everyone else thinks I am.” He stared at Lana quietly for a moment. Though when she had finished with that remark, he lifted his head, “My kind. Yeah! I guess we are pretty alright.”

When she stares at him, he stares right back at her, waiting for her to continue before responding. Blinking, Harlow was certainly enjoying these switch-ups of looks Lana was offering today, like she couldn't quite settle on one opinion of him at the moment, or another. Which was fine, he was unfathomable, after all. Being an enigma, to a point, made things plenty of fun when it came to interacting with others. There was no clear version of him that was present. Perhaps he was just everyone's friend…possibly he was not.

Smiling a little, Harlow raised his eyebrows when Lana spoke again, “Yes. Of course, proper business dealings, and all that.” He laughed a little before reaching behind him, taking out a check, “How does Forty-four thousand, nine hundred and eighty sound to you? Fair?”

[nytcwl]

❝ Gone? Where did she go? ❞ Lana narrowed her eyes at him, her mind slowly coming to the right conclusion. Then again, the last time she saw her mother, she was just a little girl. She had not met her again, not after her escape from her captor, not even after all those years. Lana can’t even remember her anymore. Or any feeling, positive or negative, toward her and her father, both of them remnants of decades past. Some days, she even finds herself unsure if they even existed at all. ❝ Oh, a big lunch! I love big lunches, especially when I put them in my mouth, ❞ she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face. Lana intended to be seductive, but her terrible grasp of innuendo, intentional or not, never fails to get in her way. Big and mouth together, she thought, should be, how the kids these days say, hot, but the way she said it, one might be more inclined to imagine a hippo about to chomp on a mountain of veggies. ❝ How fancy? Like McDonald’s secret menu fancy? Or tiny cakes fancy? ❞

❝ at one point. she was a hard-working woman that was eager to support me instead of telling me to get my head out of the clouds. ❞ though, his football dreams were quickly reduced to nothing more than a blip in the timeline. it's something he thinks about quite often but rarely expresses. though the daydreaming of what could have been is futile in the end, it is rather easy for the mind to drift there when someone has nothing but time on their hands. then he realizes that she's seemingly stepped herself into a faux pas, though his family is long gone from his life. far longer than anyone could ever assume from his appearance. so he rushes to tack on to his sentiment to hopefully keep her from feeling bad about it. ❝ she's been gone a while, but she would have loved to hear from you. ❞ proud of her family to a fault and she loved to hear others celebrate their achievements. his arms are well toned from his human life and chasing those thrills that never came was easily to his vampire physique... and he wouldn't be able to deny that his smile has a bit of smugness in it when he feels her pressing into it. ❝ i assure you i eat here all the time. i just had a big lunch is all. i'll get us a quiet table at the fancier fare we have here and you can order whatever you'd like. ❞

[nytcwl]

❝ Oh, ❞ Lana stopped dead in her tracks, as if a eureka moment had just hit her. Never mind the fact that she still didn’t even notice her incorrect usage of the words prune versus prude. It all made sense to her now! Why he wasn’t seduced by her porcelain white skin, as soft as it was supple, or her platinum blonde hair, a delicacy in most eyes, or even her ice blue eyes, frozen mysteries that warranted some heated thawing: He was gay. ❝ Well, that explains a lot. ❞ ❝ What’s not to like? ❞ she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. Gone was her desire to push him down the highest cliffs in the mines, into the deepest holes where no one ever comes back from. Instead, that thirst was replaced by the imagery of fun dancing in bright lights, sharing juicy secrets with the snapping of fingers, and hunting down delicious boys in the dark of the night. Things that she has never experienced in her youth, only heard of. ❝ I do enjoy the company of your kind. ❞ ❝ Upset me? ❞ Lana stared at him like he was out of his mind. When her eyes unintentionally caught a glimpse of his offensive man tongue that rejected her much beautiful woman tongue, she started feeling angry again, only to remember that that tongue was never for her in the first place, and thus, his rejection was not because of her but because he wanted the same thing as her. That made her smile, the excitement of experiencing her first, what those kids call, gay time. ❝ Well, it was a little bit funny. Now, how about we wrap up this sale and you bring me to your favorite bar for some fun dancing, yes? ❞

Frowning at her obvious disgust, Harlow glanced away. Why was he so weird. No. How come he was so disgusting, he found himself wondering. Stiffening, he let out a breath, trying not to stress too much about it. Then, when she called him a prune, he turned his head back to her, looking a little hurt by that accusation, “I'm...not a prude...I just. I'm not into that.” He corrects. Gripping the neck of the guitar, he swallowed nervously, his anxiety continuing, he had to do something. Hurt by Lana, he turned his head away, staring at the floor, his fingers twisting the tabs on the guitar quietly before.

When she spoke of her spot not being as exclusive as he thought, he looked back over to her, not sure he trusted that answer. The way she was looking at him also didn't make him feel any more comfortable. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes to the flood of thoughts that came to mind, not wanting to ruin his mood anymore with things from his past that she was dredging up by the way she looked at him now, the way...another one looked at him when he didn't do what they wanted. Harlow put on a grin, tilting his head slightly as he spoke when Lana had finished doing so, “I would? Really? You like me that much?” He asked innocently enough.

As her gaze continued to bore down on him from where she stood, Harlow adjusted in his seat, trying to distract himself from her looks, the judgment and feeling of dislike coming from them was quite unsettling for him at the moment. Especially after her entering his personal space, so flippantly.

Pulling away from the rock, he flicked his tongue off the top of his mouth and made a face. But looked a little shocked at Lana when she spoke, pulling away a bit, like a small child would when a parent was losing their shit over a small slip up, like spilled milk, “Sorry...Sorry. I didn-I was wanting-” He glanced away, looking at the rock, not sure how to explain his oddness to her, he didn't think she would care, anyway. She was already looking at him like he was trash when she entered. Harlow, frowned, trembling slightly, pulling the guitar closer to him, “I didn't mean to upset you Lana...I'm sorry. I think--I thought...maybe it would make you laugh?” He mumbled.

[nytcwl]

The witch had been to busy satiating her hunger that it took the dropping of documents by the uninvited to disrupt her attention. The sound was unexpected, a collision of weighty paper and marble floor, and broke the intimate silence between the two naked women. The gasp that followed only served to make Lana smile, as her pale blue eyes wandered toward its source, delighting in the presence of another who could join them for dessert. ❝ Hello, ❞ Lana greeted, a brief chuckle following right after before she could rein it in. She turned to Maia, an eyebrow raise, and without words asked her if her appetite had room for more. Lana herself could do with or without the added...plate, but she just didn’t want to speak for Maia. The intruder muttered something about the pair not being allowed in there, or at least they were supposed to not be there, but all Lana could see what a possibly delicious third this unexpected arrival could be. ❝ Like what you see? ❞

Maia just giggled as soon as Lana spoke. The two always worked well together so it was natural to fall immediately into familiar patterns as soon as they saw each other. "I need you, Lana." She said simply before crashing into her

And just like always they worked magic with each other between kisses and moans, hands relearning every part of the other. Maia had a hard time knowing where her touch ended and Lana's began. Everything was on fire and it quieted her mind to everything else but this moment. And that was just what she needed.

She was laid down as best as she could given their current location and Maia was only thinking about the symphony that was happening between them. The music filling the air of their duet. Her hands were laced through Lana's hair to steady herself as the crescendo was building. She was too busy singing her own pleasure to notice that someone else had walked in on the pair.

[nytcwl]

It was not the worst thing Izumi ❝ Umi ❞ Tokugawa has done. Besides, it was her own restaurant, so what was the harm? She imagined her head chef crossing their arms at her should they find out, shaking their head in disapproval, a disgusted look plastered on their face. She imagined her general manager raising their arms as they talked her down, throwing logical and emotional arguments here and there, how she didn’t have to do it, how she could have gone the other way, how she could’ve just asked and told them. But it was too late. They were all busy when she needed them the most, and justifiably so. They all do their best, even with her sham of a leadership. The only reason the restaurant has survived this long was because her staff were the best of the best. Most of them were like her, merfolk from foreign seas who have felt no inclination to be as active with their society in Westray as they were where they had come from. A lot of them were disillusioned with their previous settlements that having arrived in this new one, they found love for similar routes. The only difference was, they all seemed to have found the restaurant as the stand-in they needed while the owner herself, Umi, was indifferent toward it, preferring instead to fish her days away at the beach and the ports, and tonight, just tonight, bring home leftover food from the restaurant, her own restaurant, without informing the rest of them like she was a common... ❝ Oh, hello, there, ❞ Umi felt her throat constrict as she spotted the person rummaging through the trash on her own sneaky way out of the restaurant, having chosen the back door for a quick and stealthy exit. ❝ I was just... It’s not what it looks like... I own... ❞ Her mind scrambled for an appropriate excuse, but deep down, she knew there was nothing close to being appropriate. She was betraying her staff’s trust, even if it wasn’t as worse as a life-ending betrayal. Then she realized the other person was...eating something. Or at least they seem like they were eating something. She clutched the brown paper bag of leftovers with her and took a step closer, narrowing her eyes toward them to see more clearly, ❝ Are you alright? ❞

Hunger

Cade knew he shouldn't do it. The thought, a persistent, nagging whisper, echoed through his mind with every step he took. He really shouldn't. It went against every principle he clung to, every shred of dignity he desperately tried to maintain in a world that seemed determined to strip him of it. His body, lean and hardened by necessity, had long ago adapted to scarcity, a testament to countless nights spent with an empty belly. It assured him, with a stoic, almost scientific certainty, that he could easily endure another night without food. A mere twelve hours, perhaps sixteen, and he'd still be standing, still capable of facing the harsh light of dawn.

But the grumbling of his stomach, a deep, resonant growl that seemed to vibrate through his very bones, offered a stark, undeniable counter-argument. It wasn't a whisper; it was a roaring beast, a primal force that drowned out the quiet logic of his brain. It demanded, it insisted, it ached. The gnawing emptiness was a constant, physical reminder of his vulnerability, a relentless drumbeat against the fortress of his resolve.

The aroma, too, was a cruel tormentor. It wafted on the cool evening air, rich and tantalizing, a symphony of sizzling meats and aromatic spices that promised warmth and satisfaction. It pulled at him, a siren song to his famished state, making his mouth water despite himself. He fought it, he truly did, clenching his jaw, trying to focus on the flickering streetlights, the distant hum of traffic, anything but the scent. But it clung to him, a delicious, inescapable cloud.

So, with a final, desperate internal shrug, he surrendered. He cast a quick, paranoid glance over his shoulder, his eyes darting across the dimly lit street. The few late-night strollers were engrossed in their own worlds, their conversations, their hurried paces. No one was looking. No one would notice. Convinced of his invisibility, a shadow among shadows, he peeled away from the main thoroughfare and slipped around to the back of the bustling restaurant. The alley was darker, narrower, filled with the clatter of bins and the faint, sweet-sour tang of discarded food. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a mix of fear and a desperate, almost giddy anticipation. He moved with a practiced stealth, a lifetime of navigating the fringes teaching him how to blend, how to be unseen. His gaze swept over overflowing dumpsters, discarded crates, and the greasy sheen on the pavement, his senses heightened, every nerve ending alert. He was no longer just hungry; he was ravenous, a primal need overriding everything else. As he drew closer to the back door, where the scents were strongest, almost overwhelming, he inhaled deeply, a shudder running through him. "God, this smells..." he breathed, the words a low, involuntary groan of pure, unadulterated longing.

[nytcwl]

❝ I hope the next one you go to is a party with me as well, ❞ Umi let out a chuckle. Would the last one have been better with them together? Probably not. It would’ve remained tragic, all things considered, though maybe it might’ve been more bearable with them next to each other. ❝ Or maybe we’ll just have our own party, ❞ she turned toward the sea and shrugged. Now that was an appealing option. Just a bunch of girls in their pajamas, sharing stories and munching on delicious cupcakes throughout the night. Like in one of those shows she used to watch. ❝ Like a slumber party, but with fewer people and even better food! ❞ If Umi had been drinking something, she would’ve spat it out right then and there. Through her nose even. Caught off-guard by the question, mostly her own previous statement, her reaction was not too far from the cartoonish image in her head. Just sans the spitting out of a drink through the nose. She turned to Marlowe with an apologetic look and even redder cheeks, ❝ Oh, no, I meant... Eat WITH you. I don’t know why I...didn’t...say with. ❞ ❝ Maybe after, we can eat together? ❞ Umi relished the idea of eating with a friend. For far too long, she’d spend her fishing days alone. This was a welcomed respite from everything, though perhaps, having fished alone had its merits, considering she wasn’t as human as Marlowe was. The thought left her mind at the sight of the shrimp walker, replaced instead by amazement and excitement. ❝ Oh, that is nice! Very nice! Might be a bit difficult with larger fish but the shrimp should be fine! You’ve used one before? ❞

❝ lively instead of deadly, yeah. hope the next one i go to is that way. ❞ though, she's not sure she'll be in the mood for any sort of party for a while. bar nights and wine nights in her pajamas at home with bruno are all she sees in her future, apart from the nights she spent all night in her kitchen or the one at the cafe. there's so much she wants to try, a bunch of fruity flavors she wants to squeeze in before settling into the fall flavors. she shakes her head, a bit of a red tint coming to her cheeks that has nothing to do with the warm sun. ❝ either way, i appreciate it. ❞

what she says next does throw marlowe off guard, but it does cause a bit of puzzled laughter to erupt out of her mouth. ❝ eat me? am i one of these little shrimp? or are you a big bad shark? ❞ to be fair, the danger she's unknowingly been in her whole life and the million ways her brother could have met a demise have been swirling in her brain since rowan told her everything. but, she doesn't feel the slightest bit in danger in umi's presence, despite them only meeting the other day. her willingness to trust others that have shown their kindness is still through the roof.

❝ hey, i get it. though you do deserve to eat too. ❞ maybe she should have thought ahead and brought hand sanitizer along with her treats... or at the very least something that wouldn't need to be grasped in the hands that had just been baiting a hook. she gets on her knees to look through her dad's tackle box, and a certain hook catches her eye and happens to also spark a memory. ❝ a shrimp walker! i forgot about these things. ❞

[nytcwl]

❝ Well, everyone else thought wrong, ❞ Umi stated nonchalantly, shrugging as she did so. For her part, she never really took seriously the collective thoughts of the many. The larger the crowd, the stupider its members. It was that personal belief that made her not want to join in any crowd, merfolk or not. Culture suffers in the hands of the sheep. ❝ I, for one, always thought you looked perfect for the part. ❞ And for someone like Umi, a stray, black sheep of any flock, it was all parts, weren’t they? The shepherd, the sheep, and the wolf. Still, she would never argue the fact that there was safety in numbers. Add to that Amaros and Zakatonus, and their flock here at Westray would definitely be safe. As long as they work well together and not against each other, though. Umi frowned, her inability to see the future annoying her. Despite her faith in them, she knew she was no seer, no witch with the crystal. Her own perception had limits, and she was no better than the rest of them. But what is the future if not made by those who seek to break those limits? ❝ What if he does? Isn’t that worth trying for you? ❞ Has she worn the same shoes as he has? In a way, yes. Umi has had her own romantic uncertainties with someone else in the past, and one of them was a Prince, though he was no merfolk. Had she risked everything for that Prince? Unfortunately, no, so her advice here was very much not that valuable. Still, she knew deep down that she wasn’t even worthy to make his decision for him, only to offer the same thing that she would’ve loved to hear from someone else and something else that she knew she at least could do, ❝ Whatever happens, whatever you choose to do, I’ll always be here for you, Amaros. You are a survivor, you will survive whatever comes your way, and I will always be around to help. ❞

"The fact that everyone thought so at first." Amaros' curls are soft beneath her fingers and the comfort of her head on his shoulder slowly grounds him back to earth, or well, water. "During the ceremony, I hid behind my siblings. I knew it would be one of them. I'm the bastard, the odd one out, after all. Less tall, less buff, less strong-minded." Or so he thinks of himself. As it had turned out, the woman his father had an affair with, had been a descendant of Atlantis, just like him, but unlike his brother's and sister's mother, making him a full descendant of Atlantis -- which he truly believed to be the reason why he was chosen. You have a clean heart, the witch had told him on the day the crystal had chosen him. You will be of use.

"But I was chosen. And now I'm stuck in this misery." His light blue scales glimmer in the sunlight while he moves slightly. From afar, viewed from the sure, they surely look like seals laying on large stones, trying to get sun into their fur. "I think I'm in love with Zak.", Amaros almost whispers, "And I don't know what to do about it. I don't want him to think it's just because he's about to become King. I don't want him to think it's... I don't even know if I want him to know. What if he doesn't... love me back? I would be forever... embarrassed, and we have to work together." Groaning, Amaros lets his head sink against hers, "Well, fuck."

[nytcwl]

❝ That’s good, ❞ Umi smiled, nodding in response to his gesture to pour her a glass. Her eyes, and her attention, never left his face, though. He was, after all, more important than wine, and she wanted him to know that. Despite not being that active in merfolk society, Umi knew the weight of having a leader, a king, how necessary a shepherd was to a flock. ❝ The holding up part, not the lack of time to dwell on your emotions. ❞ With a playful smirk, she teased him again, her eyes remaining on his, even as she gently took a sip on her filled glass. The wine was excellent, as expected. It tasted of the French riviera, a lingering memory of her time in Marseilles presenting itself from her tongue to her mind. But not all memories of that time were good. As much as she enjoyed her time there, she also suffered losses, one of which was not too different from what their new king must be feeling. ❝ When you’re ready, when you need or want to, you can always come and find me, ❞ Umi switched back to a less playful and more serious tone. She would have loved it if someone had offered her the same thing all those years ago in Marseilles, but now, she can make that offer herself, ❝ We can dwell on things together. ❞ ❝ You won’t have to pretend with me, ❞ she added to her offer. There was strength in vulnerability, Umi knew that personally, but what ruler would have time for that? A wise ruler, she hoped, though a new one often needed time to become that. Still, she had high hopes for Zak Tony, and if nothing else but for a shared tragedy and a desire to ensure that their kinds future there in Westray wont be bleak, she would do what she could to see all of that through, ❝ I’ve been where you are, and although I can only imagine the weight you have on your shoulders right now, I, too, have lost someone who left me with more responsibilities than I wanted. ❞

His head turned. Not entirely sure what she meant by that, but not wanting to look stupid, he decided not to question it. He really hadn't thought about how much time he spent with Amaros, and maybe she was just glad to have the one on one time with him. It could also mean she just didn't like Zak's friend, a ridiculous notion really, since everybody seemed to like Amaros, everyone who wasn't related to him at least.

"I'm really just here to relax. I might order something later if I start to feel peckish, but honestly a nice bottle of one and some excellent company, I don't really know what more I could ask for." He smiled lightly as he reached for the bottle that had only just been put back into the bucket. Pouring out a glass, gesturing to pour one for his host.

His eyes wandered down to her hand as it touched his. Her words felt sincere. Which made a change to the usual condolences Zak had been receiving, sometimes from complete strangers. Something about being her with Umi made him feel safe though. Not only because this was her establishment, but there was just something about her. A wise, warm feeling, that Zak didn't typically feel from a lot of people around here.

"I'm holding up fine I guess." Zac shrugged lightly. Light enough that it was barely even noticeable. "I don't really have the time to dwell on things." Even as he said it he could tell how void of emotion it sounded. Even worse, it sounded exactly like something his father would say.

"Thank you. I appreciate your concern. Truly. It means a lot." He said with an earnest smile that he struggled to maintain. He knew he had to be strong though. It was his job to be strong now.