OoC: And Sovelis began doing the funky chicken, to the dismay of all around him. there was much drinking to forget that image.

IC: Ignoring the thought to do some silly dance no one here would know, Sovelis led the icy mage out onto the dance floor. He hadn't been a very good dancer. Ever. "I'll apologize in advance for any stubbed toes. I may be able to dance with a sword in my hand and flames in the other, but in a ballroom it's a whole different story." The Tempest put a hand on Sakiko's hip and tried to get into the beat of the music. "I was more of a free-style dancer if anything. And even then, I looked like a total idiot trying." He watched his feet carefully, not wanting his booted feet to crunch any dainty toes.

OC: Love your "liquid courage" comment, Sakiko.

IC:Surprised to see Sakiko, she simply nodded her head towards her. Embarrassed that she hadn't first seen her made her face flush.

Keychain opened her mouth to voice a question towards Kasei. For a brief second there, no matter how graceful he had looked, Keychain couldn't mistaken that quick pained reaction. A quirky smile was replaced on her lips. She eyed Kasei's out stretched hand.

"My, my, Kasei, are you offering me a dance while we catch up? I never thought of you as a dancer. Especially with that cane. Are you sure you will be able to handle dancing with me?" Keychain winked playfully. Even with her playful words, she placed her slim hand in his grasp.

Aqua let out a small snort. "Don't mind me, I'll just get some more wine." She gave Keychain a small pat on the back before throwing a glance at Kasei. It was one that an older sister would give to a man who might be courting her younger sister. "Make sure she stays in one piece. Even if she did choose to wear flats today, she still has a chance of falling down."

Keychain scowled at Aqua quickly as she strolled away. Turning her attention back towards Kasei, she shrugged. "She insisted on coming, believe it or not. Now, what were we talking about? Oh yes, what has been going on with me."

Thinking, Keychain shrugged. "I've actually been. . . relaxing. I've been doing a lot of art pieces actually. I've been taken up the hobby of painting."

OOC: Yahoo IM? Ah, so that's why I don't have your contact information -- I've only got AIM, MSN, and Skype.

IC:
Arrika drew closer to him, with a motion and words that he wasn't sure were meant to sound teasing or intrigued. That...hadn't exactly been his intention when he'd started talking about the Shadowclaw threat. At least it meant he didn't have to talk so loudly anymore--

It also helped when she stumbled for a step, as he was able to quickly wrap his arm around her waist and reel her back into step with him, almost without missing a beat. The end result was little more than his hand being placed at the small of her back rather than the side of her waist, as well as her face being a bit closer to his than before.

Which ensured that she would notice his pissed-off glare.

"Do not even joke about that," he snapped, a bit harsher than he'd intended but -- given the subject matter -- not something he particularly minded. Gone, at least for now, was the chivalrous attitude he'd held. "That...that witch is always going on about that nonsense. She's a stalker more than anything else, and I don't need anyone else believing the things she's always saying."

He heaved a disgusted sigh, trying to exhale his anger alongside his breath. It took three breaths to finally do so... All the while, though, he somehow kept with the rhythm of the dance. Looking back on it later, even he would be impressed by that.

Crimson eyes slowly softened, and the tenseness of his posture and face relaxed to match the festive atmosphere once more. Still, his gaze wasn't the same as before -- but instead of rage, it was now tinged with regret. "Ask me about the 'dark times' later," he muttered after a few moments. "Okay?"

In one fluid motion, Kasei grasped Keychain's hand and pulled her in close, his other arm wrapping around her shoulder, cane in hand. He then stepped forward and to the side, leading her in a twirling dance, a bright red flame blazing across the dance floor. Kasei moved softly, putting all of his energy into legwork, leading Keychain into a seemingly-endless waltz.

The varying guests had to make room - if not for Kasei and Keychain, then for the cane that swung about with them, preventing all from getting near - this left a fair bit of room in the hall to them alone. He raised his hand, stepping back to allow Keychain room to twirl, before moving close once more into the spinning dance. "I see, an artist, then. You'd be surprised how few of those I've managed to encounter here, I'm amazed so many portraits hang these halls." He said to her, as they spun around and around.

Others joined in the pattern, grabbing partners and twirling in their own little fires. It was not long before the Rebel Flame had indeed proven his namesake; he turned their lone, burning dance into an inferno that swept across the dance floor.

Keychain's face turned a nice shade of red. If she had doubted Kasei's ability to dance before, she now was able to shake it from her mind. Before she could allow herself to get far more embarrassed and end up faltering, she smiled softly, batting her eyelashes at Kasei.

As Keychain twirled, her blue dress spun around her body. The silver that was laced in the dress glittered brightly as it became no longer hidden among the folds of her dress. The underclothing was a simple white silk dress that had only been visible for a split second before her dress descended back down on her legs.

"Yes, well, considering that the only person I've been in contact with lately has been Aqua, I have yet to be able to do any portrait paintings. I try my best. But Aqua is always moving. I ended up just painting a portrait of her moving. It turned out to be a mess. I ended up tossing it into the trash." Keychain giggled at the memory. "So far I've been doing landscape paintings. It's so frowned upon, but I love painting snow cap mountains. Of course, painting a person wouldn't be too bad, though."

Keychain glanced at the paintings. "Yes, well. . . it could be quite possible that the artists hide away in their own little holes, hiding their identities. That or they could be dead." She became serious at that moment, but with a simple shake of her head, she was smiling again.

Although fire was insufficient to thaw the mage’s coldness - internal and external - the wine had wondrous effects. (ooc: Is there an echo in here? Sorry guys.) Sakiko smiled pleasantly at the Tempest, and wondered what Zeze would have done in this situation. She had always envied the bard for her easygoing and naturally flirtatious nature. “Relax, Sovelis.” She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and when she put her arm back down, she pressed the tips of her fingers on the back of her partner’s neck. “One, two, three. One, two, three.” Sakiko gently tapped her fingers to reinforce each murmured beat…

“…even joke about that…that…that witch is always going on about that nonsense. She's a stalker more than anything else, and I don't need anyone else believing the things she's always saying."

Sakiko whirled around, recognizing that voice. And lo and behold, she saw Alpha and Arrika - dangerously close, much, much too close. She saw the dark, almost disgusted look on his face. Witch? WITCH! That must surely mean her. I mean, there was only one witch in all of Hyrule that they could be talking about. What? He just called me a stalker. Spewing out nonsense. And that look, that look, it was made at the thought of me. In normal circumstances, she would have stormed out of the room, but…this wouldn’t necessarily merit a ‘normal’ circumstance. The mage turned to Sovelis.

“Sovelis, if someone called you a stalker, and everything you said was absolute gibberish, what would you do to said person?”

She shot a glare at Alpha’s direction, her eyes turning almost a shade darker as she did so. If the intensity of the gaze had worked on Kasei (which she flattered herself that it did), then surely it must work on Alpha, since the intensity was upped by five hundred.

OoC:And thus the Author proceeded to dress Sovelis up like John Travolta in 'Saturday Night Fever' and to make him do the hustle.

"Personally, I'd light that person's backside on fire, then make sure to bring a potion of invisibility next time I was going to be stalking." the older mage led the younder away from Alpha, trying to get out of the crossfire of the gaze of a thousand suns. "And I've been told that everything I say is absolute rubbish before. I cut their tongue out and had them flayed alive by living shadows." This, of coarse, was untrue. He had their mouth sewn shut and then dipped them in tar and stuck them to the backside of an angry water buffalo. But Sovelis thought it best to sound a bit more intimidating.

"And I'm certain that comment wasn't aimed at you dear. Besides, its rude to eavesdrop. And we don't need anyone dropping any eaves." Sovelis wasn't watching his feet anymore, trying to rely on the tapping that Sakiko was keeping on his neck. "Just enjoy yourself and sort things out later. Deal?"

OoC: Thanks, Sovelis- everyone on the train stared when I burst out laughing.

IC:

"I'm not entirely sure what set you off," Arrika said, "but if it was Shada, I want you to know I wasn't making fun of you. I've seen you together before, so I thought..." She trailed off. She was not alarmed; this was the Alpha she remembered, not the one with plastered smiles. In a roundabout way, it was comforting to witness honesty.

To be this near both frightened and enticed her; it was what she wanted, wasn't it? She steeled her jaw and did not cower back, and somehow they transitioned smoothly into the next song. The dance called for the women to dip and curtsy, then circle their partners; she did it with flare, tracing a delicate path across his collarbones and down his chest. She looked him dead in the eye and did not break his gaze.

"Forgive me," she murmured, when she felt the more dangerous flare of his anger pass, "for my silly, girlish fit."

"Ask me about the 'dark times' later," he muttered after a few moments. "Okay?"

"Whatever suits you," she said lightly, tilting her head coquettishly, and as if by playing along, the room seemed to brighten once more, and the storm passed.

***

"You're ashamed of me," Netta sighed.

"No," Seth said, and immediately regretted it when she visibly brightened.

"Then what?" she pressed.

"I tolerate you." He was far chattier than he normally would have been. The three empty glasses beside him were a testament to the fact. "Oh Goddesses!" he suddenly exclaimed. The thief jumped to his feet and glared at the orchestra. "Principal violinist and he has no sense of rhythm. Don't even get me started on his tuning."

"Y-you play?" Netta ventured, fiddling with the hem of her dress. It was her go-to nervous tic.

"Used to," he huffed, flinging himself back down to his chair.

"Would you like to? Again?"

"What?"

But Netta darted away, and could be seen whispering animatedly in the conductor's ear. A few seconds later, she beckoned excitedly to Seth, who peered at her blearily and staggered to his feet.

"He says you can play one set. Isn't that great?"

"I don't have a violin," he said dumbly, and she presented to him one of the viola player's shining spares. "A jig!" he declared suddenly, jabbing his bow at the conductor. "Can you play it?"

"Sir, that doesn't seem very appropriate under the current-"

But Netta batted her eyelashes, and Seth had his way.

The stately trios came to an abrupt halt, and Seth had the orchestra going in double time. The party guests looked on in confusion.

"Dance, I said!" Seth declared. "Dance!"

He played a few haphazard bars, then tipsily threw his arm around the conductor and began to sing:

The gypsy rover came over the hill
Down through the valley so shady,
He whistled and he sang 'til the greenwoods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.

***

"Oh Goddesses," Arrika sighed, recognizing Seth's voice immediately. She smiled impishly when the music took a livelier turn, grasping Alpha's hands and leading him into a merry caper.

(((OOC: Finals: check. Packing: check. Home sweet home: check. That means it's roleplaying time.)))

~Pyre sat at his clean deku wood desk, flipping jovially through his papers. Some things had changed and some had not: he had put an end to errant adventuring long ago - leave that to the younger sort - but he kept him self entertained in whatever kind of task he threw himself into. Even paperwork. His bright brown eyes flicked across the nearest ledger: it's truly astounding how quickly he can read these things. After fifteen years of practice, these tasks had become just as natural (and fun?) as monster slaying. The desk was carefully organized into several stacks, each for a different purpose.

But there, off to the side and slightly askew, was a small envelope bearing the royal seal. The seal was broken, indicating that it's contents had indeed been read and addressed just like everything else on the desk. But Pyralin was still conflicted. It had been 17 years since he'd been an adventurer after all. Those were his wilder days: only 15 years old and running about the wild like some kind of Kokiri lunatic. A "ranger" he had called himself. Hogswallop, he had been too young to be much use at all. With a wry grin he remembered a few of his finer moments: searching through caves, forests, deserts: fighting monsters and men alike: well perhaps he had been of some use.

But he had left those days behind. In fact, Pyre was now quite plump in his mid-region. He had done extraordinarily well as a merchant and caravaneer and with the excess money ate more food everyday than he probably should have. His shoulders were broad and his chest rather barrel-like from the years of heavy lifting (putting each one of those damn Lon Lon Milk barrels into the wagon), and his hair was now a shortly cropped red cap. Indeed, compared to his adventuring appearance: thin, scrawny, nimble, long red hair, and with the weathered look of a ranger (although a young one), it would be difficult to recognize him now! While some like Alpha had been living off in the swamp training, Pyre had carried on with an entirely different sort of life. But he allowed himself another smile and thumped the table with his fist.

"By golly, I'll go. It should be fun and when will a merchant like me get another chance to go to such an event?"~

---

~Warmth. After a long stroll through the snow covered streets of Castle Town, the warmth of the castle was welcome. Although when he first strode into the ballroom, it had been a bit of a surprise. Sure, Pyralin had become relatively well-to-do after being so successful along the caravan routes throughout the North but this was another level of wealth altogether. The nobles just lived a completely different sort of life compared to the adventurers. He looked down at his round belly and grimaced. He couldn't quite claim to live an adventurous life any more. Perhaps he would sooner be sorted into the camp of the nobles.

But jovial was the word of the day. He wiped the grimace off his face (it's almost impossible to upset a middle aged, well-to-do merchant and caravaneer: he enjoyed life and everything about it if I can impart any sort of general theme) and approached the doorman. He whipped out his invitation and pounded his chest making a bark like laugh.

"Well, let 'em know I've arrived, will yeh?" he roared. It was a sight more fit for a pub than a ballroom. But Pyre was far more accustomed to pubs than ballrooms these days. "Come on, then!"

The guard looked somewhat off-put: this somewhat plump, unruly merchant hardly looked liked a former adventurer. And Pyralin did nothing to fix that impression.

"This slow music, eh? Isn't it a bit boring?"

But just on time, Seth's handiwork swept into action. The music skipped to triple time: exactly the sort of gypsy theme Pyre was used to out on the wagon roads.

"Ah ha!" he shouted boisterously, and without even waiting for the guard to parse his invitation, Pyre leapt out onto the dance-floor. He waved away the incoming waiter carrying a tray of wine glasses (he much preferred a hearty Goron Ale) and started to jig madly by himself in the midst of the crowd, much to the chagrin of the surrounding nobles. This was his kind of ball!

Yet he didn't give much thought to who might be watching. It might be somewhat embarrassing to be seen like this by his old adventuring companions. Surely Alpha must be here: Pyre had never known him very well, but he had followed him on the famous Force of Gold quest. And after something like that, even acquaintances couldn't be forgotten. Pyralin had always gotten along better with Rose, his fellow ranger, and Saber, the mercenary he had worked with many times. Little did Pyre know, but neither of those well known adventurers arrived.

But enough musing on the past! It's time to jig, on-watching nobles and adventurers be damned!~

Well, he hadn't completely scared her off with that little outburst of his.

'I must be losing my touch...'

Either that, or Arrika was made of sterner stuff than he had ever realized; he preferred that explanation, as the alternative was that his time in the wilderness had actually softened him. That would have been bad, especially given the purpose behind his training -- he would not be able to slay Dogura's lingering demons if he could not steel himself against harming a man he would have once called friend. He hadn't spent months practicing magic and learning to use an entirely new set of weapons to be beaten by a lack of resolve!

Arrika's motions as the next dance began quickly provided further evidence for the preferred theory. Her hands brushed against his body as she circled him, a far more...forward motion than he had expected. 'Oh, is that how you want to play it?' he thought with a smirk. The dance suddenly became more of a competition than a standard part of the forward setting, and before she finished the motion, he was already trying to recall how this dance was supposed to go so that he could plan a few surprise moves of his own.

Then the music suddenly cut off.

He wasn't the only one to look around with surprise as a new song with a much quicker tempo abruptly started, soon accompanied by a voice singing -- well, trying to sing -- along.

The gypsy rover came over the hill
Down through the valley so shady,
He whistled and he sang 'til the greenwoods rang
And he won the heart of lady.

"Isn't that--?" he began, only to be cut off as Arrika's face turned mischievous. Without warning she had her hands in his and started dragging him around the dance floor. It took him several moments to catch on to it. 'Dancing isn't my thing, and this kind of dancing certainly isn't,' he decided as his feet faltered beneath him, Sheikah reflexes the only thing keeping him upright and moving in time with the beat.

* * *

"Dark World, what is that racket?"

The words, quite similar to those muttered by several dozen nobles nearby, emerged from the lips of a particularly beautiful woman resting against the southern wall of the Ballroom, only a few feet from the hall that connected Nayru's Ballroom with Din's. Her crimson eyes glared in the direction of the band, first at the new -- and obviously drunk -- singer, then to the conductor who had dared allowed the boy to ruin the peaceful mood of the place. A girl stood nearby as well, a pretty little thing... Had she had something to do with this?

She sighed and collapsed back against the wall, her emerald dress's reflective properties producing a dazzling effect to all who watched her -- and even with the orchestral cacophony, that was still a lot of male admirers. It wasn't the most flattering of dresses, but then, she hadn't come here wanting to be the center of attention. With her figure and hair color -- a bright green, almost plantlike -- though, that tended to be unavoidable...

"Can you believe this nonse--" she started, only to be cut off as she glanced to the side and realized, to her great horror, that one of her companions was no longer standing with their little group. "He's not."

The Rito woman beside her only shook her head, and the Human male shrugged his shoulders. "He is," the gruff voice responded as he nodded towards the dance floor.

And there he was, a Zora dancing in a frenzy of excitement, thoroughly enthralled by the music and shift of atmosphere.

The knight with his sword~, he could not afford
To stay but a night in the inn~! Haha!
So instead of gold, he fought against beasts bold~!
And hand of a maiden did win~! Kihihihiha!

His singing, and the made up lyrics he threw into the mixture, did little to stop the blood from rising to her face, so horrifying a sight it was.

"Honestly," the Rito muttered, "where did he get a knight from? The song was about a gypsy rover!"

She shot her a look, finding solace only in the fact that their other male companion did the same. He, at least, understood the seriousness of the situation. "Can you do anything about it, Ulfer?"

He shook his head.

...Serul Tarduck, I loathe you so much right now.

Of course you do, Kyune! the response came back immediately. Even with the suddenness of the telepathic conversation, the Zora had not faltered a single step in his dance. Hey, do you think Wraith has seen me yet?!

...by Ganon, she sure hoped not...



OOC: ZV, you remember Serul and Kyune, right~? [size=0]Of course you do. The links are provided for everyone else's benefit. ;D[/size]

She left her father's castle gates
She left her own fine lover
She left her servants and her state
To follow the gypsy rover!

Arrika placed one hand behind her back and wrapped the other around Alpha's waist. They followed the circle that had formed- skip for three measures, a waltz-like whirl for the duration of the next, switch partners for a beat, then back again.

Secretly, she noted with relish that the almighty Sheikah was not an expert on everything after all. "Having trouble?" she challenged playfully.

Her father saddled up his fastest steed
And roamed the valleys all over
Sought his daughter at great speed
And the whistling gypsy rover!

At this, Seth's fiddling went off on an irregularly metered tangent, confounding the conductor and sending the rest of the orchestra into a frenzy. His solo was reminiscent of a high-speed chase, causing the hair of all listeners to stand on end with anticipation. Short, staccato bowings imitated the clopping of hooves; heavy brooming became the angry cries of the father; and high and light were the whimsical gigglings of the runaway girl. His tempo varied, bringing to mind images of the narrow escapes and triumphant leaps.

Arrika did not lose count, and instead continued on through the reckless soli. From years of experience, she knew Seth had a perfect sense of tempo, and just as she bargained, he eventually slowed to his original brisk pace. She landed on the right foot, having not lost count, and winked at Alpha boldly, who probably had.

Having grown bored, Seth impulsively transitioned into the next song, shooting a death glare at the flautist when she did not pick up on the new key right away.

"Get me a gin and tonic, will you?" he said to Netta, his arm still bowing as if it had a mind of its own.

Seth would drink whenever his arm grew tired and he let the last-chair violinist take over the melody (he still held great disdain for the principal). The songs got raunchier, as well as more unpredictable. He had shucked off his tuxedo coat, and Netta fussed over it, brushing it off.

"Leave it," Seth ordered, polishing off a goblet of mead. "I said leave it!" he snapped, when she did not immediately obey.

"Why are you so mean to me?" Netta said.

"Why? You want to know why?" Seth thundered, his face contorting with hate, the alcohol leaving every emotion bare.

Netta shrunk back. "I haven't done a thing to you and you treat me like dirt!"

"You're joking," Seth said incredulously. "Please tell me you're joking. You have done everything to me!" He threw down the goblet, which crashed and clanked loudly against the marble floors. The conductor looked over his shoulder apprehensively. "You lied, you stole, you cling to me like a parasite! You stick around because you know it makes me Blind. You want me helpless so you can keep finding ways to take advantage of me!"

The orchestra fell silent, and the dancers stopped in their tracks. People looked on and whispered behind their hands.

"S-Seth..." Netta's eyes brimmed with tears, but at this point, Seth was too far gone to care.

"You want to know what she did?" Seth addressed the crowd. "Do you?"

Arrika clapped a hand over her mouth with an expression of both horror and mirth.

"She made me sleep with her, and two weeks later told me she was pregnant. She kept it up for half a year, made me hole up with her in a dingy little town, guilted me every night and day like her getting pregnant was my fault. Well I'll tell you something, Netta. It takes two to goddamn tango! So even if I had knocked you up, you had no right to treat me the way you did! You'd met my sorry excuse for a father. You knew I'd have a weak spot."

"Please-"

"You tramp! Y-you harlot! You stole everything I had. Who are you working for? Tell me!"

"No one-"

"That's a lie. Another goddamn lie. There was never a baby and there was never anything between us!"

Netta whimpered incomprehensibly.

"Speak up!" Seth snarled.

"I just didn't want you to leave me. I didn't want to be alone," she sobbed.

"I DON'T EVEN LIKE WOMEN!" Seth screeched, his voice echoing through the grand hall.

And then all went still, and the only thing that could be heard was Netta's muffled sobs.

"I-I thought you liked being able to sleep at night. I thought you liked not having to See," she said brokenly, for she certainly did.

"I would rather dream of a thousand apocalypses than spend another day with you." Seth thrust the violin and bow into the shocked conductor's hands and kicked the goblet across the floor before drunkenly stumbling his way out.

The flustered conductor cleared his throat and began another waltz.

Keychain had started out with joy. Her laughter echoed loudly when the beat began to change. She picked up the folds of her dress and kicked around her legs. "Come on, Kasei! I hope you can keep up!" With a wink, she started to move around in a frenzy, a crazy kind of dance that didn't seem to exist to anyone but Keychain, but a dance that someone would enjoy to join in.

But then she had paused, to listen to the words of Seth. Her hands covered her mouth. Even though she was never familiar with Seth, she knew that his words were one that would affect the two of them forever. She looked around for Arrika, finding her in the crowd.

She gave one apologetic look towards Kasei before she moved her way silently next to Arrika. She knew that approaching Netta would not be a smart idea on her part--what exactly could she do for the poor woman?-- so she thus approached Arrika instead. Arrika would probably want to be getting back to dancing, wanting to put what had happened out of her head. She was having such a good time with Alpha, too.

Keychain placed her hand on Arrika's arm gently. What she wanted to say wouldn't come out properly. She wanted to ask why that had happened, if it was true what Seth had said, and what had caused him to make such a loud outburst like that, but instead Keychain had asked, "Is he always like that?"

"Drunk? No," Arrika said, "and he usually has a bit more tact than this. But he's always been the brutally honest type." Looks like alcohol just made it worse.

Ah, yes. She remembered Keychain. Those days certainly felt like a lifetime ago.

"He must have been keeping this to himself for a while. It explains a lot." Seth had promised her earlier that he'd unravel the mystery of where he'd been for a year. That conversation, she noted wryly, would be quite unnecessary now.

Unsympathetically, she watched Netta blunder out of the ballroom and after the green-haired thief, and sincerely hoped they wouldn't be thrown out for this.

"He'll be okay," she said. "Best to leave him alone when he's in a bad mood, alcohol or no. His cat is the only one he'll tolerate looking after him." She had seen Seth in a wide range of emotions, and with time his anger would fizzle out.

She'd never really met Netta, and looks could be deceiving. "That girl used to work for a mob boss in the sewers right beneath our feet. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more to her than meets the eye. I wonder, though, if he really meant what he said at the end..."

What would Alpha would make of all this? He'd probably brush it off- what did he care for a small town's drama?

"Would you like to continue dancing, my dear knight, or has this episode ruined your appetite for merriment?" she said to Alpha in the high tones of a duchess, as was their game. "Perhaps you'd like to stroll with me through the royal gardens?" Or, she feared, had he already tired of her?

***

Seth staggered down the stone steps and vomited in the nearest bush. He immediately felt much better, and the cold air consoled him.

"...Seth?" Netta approached the thief slowly.

Seth groaned. "You're still here?" He tried to stand upright; she caught him before he fell.

"That... that wasn't very nice, what you did," Netta began reproachfully.

"You damn well deserved it."

She said nothing, and he took it as acquiescence.

"...can you ever forgive me?"

This bewildered him. Not even when he was sober had the possibility crossed his mind. She had been a nuisance, a persistent fly buzzing in his ears. And always the nagging and whining! Complaining about the cold, about being hungry, about the mice in the shanty they had taken up residence in. He was doing his best and it was never quite good enough for her. The details of her past were still a mystery, and he knew nothing of it, except that she had worked under a rogue named Rodson.

But she was alone. No family or friends to speak of. She had extensive knowledge of the underground labyrinth beneath Castle Town, and her name was known by every rogue he'd met. It aroused suspicion. She was a survivor, that much he could sense about her, frail as she appeared, and that meant she was crafty. Hence his uneasiness and distrust.

Forgiveness was a foreign concept to him; he had never forgiven Rhyss, only lived in resignation with damage that could not be undone.

His consciousness wavered, and the next time he was aware of his surroundings, he was sitting on the stone steps with his head on her shoulder. She was rubbing his back in soothing circles- a familiar motion.

"No," he said groggily, remembering the night he chased his father into the underground, gotten lost with her, and gave into her seduction. He had no interest in women, and he was still confused as to why his body had responded. It had to have been the adrenaline. The psychological impact of learning that his father had stood idly by and let him come to harm. Or perhaps it had been the sheer joy of for once, achieving mental peace, with no visions to disturb him. He remembered liking very much that there was another psychic out there, someone who understood him, even helped him overcome his solitude just with her presence.

She was still touching him, ever so subtly, and he clumsily knocked her hand away.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she was crying again. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me."

"I could have left you any time." There, finally, was his admission. He could have quite easily abandoned her.

No, he reminded himself. She knew any talk of "abandoning" would evoke memories of his absent father. He didn't want to be his father, and so he would force himself to stay.

Clever girl.

"We can make this work," she said, her bony fingers pulling him closer, turning his face to hers.

"When will you understand that I don't want to sleep with you?" Seth erupted. "It's annoying, having you trying to crawl into my bed every night. For a year, Netta? Take a hint! It doesn't make me like you any more, or impress me, or..." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "I don't know if I can forgive you."

"You'll keep me around regardless," Netta said.

That was a surprisingly forceful statement from the bird-thin girl. He glanced sideways at her in apprehension.

But the moment passed, and then she was the finnicky, nervous girl pulling at the threads of her fraying hem again.

The music came to an abrupt halt, with Seth and that girl making quite a scene of themselves. Alpha couldn't help but cringe with each passing comment -- it was one thing to be brutally honest, but another thing entirely to be that way in front of a crowd of the wealthiest and most successful people in the nation. It was so tactless, too; with each comment made, he couldn't help but evaluate it and come up with a different way it might have been said, one which would have at least been more civil while still retaining the message.

It was a sad little habit of his.

Fortunately, things seemed to recover rather quickly -- the band got back on track within moments of Seth's departure, and the dancers resumed their waltz, apparently all-too-willing to simply forget the unsightly display. Ah, the waltz... That was much more his style of dance (if he even had a 'style'): calm and collected, refined and elegant. He did enough jumping around when a stray Octorok showed up near his cave; he did not need to be doing it here as well. He turned back to Arrika, expecting her to wish to continue along with the rest of the crowd, only to find another girl there, speaking with her.

...Keychain. That was her name. He wasn't sure where he had heard it, or when -- it had been some time ago, that much was certain -- or even if she had been the one to tell him it. Had they ever been introduced before? He couldn't say, so he just remained silent and listened as Arrika passed along a few little details about Seth and that girl of his.

Arrika wrote:"Would you like to continue dancing, my dear knight, or has this episode ruined your appetite for merriment? Perhaps you'd like to stroll with me through the royal gardens?"

Oh, so it was back to that game, was it? A smirk threatened to overtake him, but he deftly turned it into a solemn smile as he bowed towards her -- this was a game he could play, and quite well at that. "It would be my honor to escort you, m'lady," he said in the same reverent tone as earlier, and extended the hook of his elbow towards her.

* * *

"Ah... Well now, if that wasn't the most fun I've had all night! Hihiha!"

The Zora returned to their little ensemble with a wide grin on his face -- the kind of grin that Kyune normally saw him wear when he'd done something he really, really wasn't supposed to. Oftentimes after he'd been specifically forewarned against it, or even when there may have been laws against such a thing. "A shame it had to end so quickly," Serul continued with a sigh. The laugh quickly returned, though. "Hihihe... But, my! What a show that was at the end. My kind of entertainmen--"

He stopped short as she brought the heel of her shoe squarely down on his boot, crushing its toe and hopefully a few of his along with it. Aside from the sudden silence, though, he did nothing to belie pain or anger. He just turned to face her, a fascinated smirk on his face.

"Enough," Ulfer said at last, prompting both of them to stand down. "Many of the guests have arrived by now, and from what we know I doubt our target would be a straggler. He's here now, somewhere in this rabble. Spread out and find him." He paused for a second, then shot Serul an angered glare. "And don't call any unnecessary attention to yourself, please. We don't want Wraith tipping off anyone about us, understood?"

The women both nodded, and though the Zora waved the comments away, he still nodded his head in recognition of the order. As one, they all turned out from the wall to stare at the vast crowd in front of them.


One of these guests would die by their hands that night.


So Ganon had decreed.

~The former-ranger was drawn into the increasing speed of the dance. Hell to the waltz, this was real dancing! This was the sort of frenzied art that was first birthed on the road. Any caravaneer would be enticed and without a single drop of liquor, Pyre was all in. Making quite a scene of himself in fact, with his impressive girth and incongruously light movements.

But his ungainly body's lithe movements came to a sudden heavy stop when some violin-wielding boy near the orchestra started to make a racket. It was only when the content of the words became more clear that Pyre was taken aback. He slipped back into the thick of the crowd around the dance-floor trying not to be part of a scene. This was clearly a long standing problem that didn't need to be made any more public than it already was.

Pyre shook his head and stroked the thick red beard that graced his face. That's a right downer at a party isn't it? Best not to be involved at all. And fortunately for the Hylian soon the music started again (holy Din, not the waltz again!) and the terse mood felt by every person in the crowd became lighter.

With the music no longer fitting his taste, Pyralin cast his eye around the room, looking for other entertainment or perhaps old friends (though he'd be a bit embarrassed to run into one of them in his very changed state). His gaze was halted by a gorgeous woman in a bright green dress and hair to match. Intrigued he cut a swath through the crowd in her direction.

Not paying any attention to the company she kept, he strode proudly forward, his barrel chest puffed out slightly, rather large belly tucked in a tad, making show of his caravaning muscles (in a manner he thought was inconspicuous, but alas...). When he neared this mysterious emerald woman he bowed awkwardly, cleared his throat and said, prefaced with a raucous guffaw:

"Come Farore, why don'tcher share some of that there radiance with the rest of us guests. No need teh leave it propped against the wall, eh?"~

(((OOC: Alright, Alpha, what am I getting myself into here?)))