A Woman's Wrath, A Dad's Scorn

[rassafraggin]

Merrisol opens the tinkling door so Raphaela can enter ahead of him. He's in his other coat today, the boring ol' brown thing. Bleh, I say! Just kidding, it's not bad.

Raphaela is right on the bleh, not too bad theme.

What a bleeeh pair. Not one of them flashy, unless Merrisol still has a garland around his neck?

The group are all seated at the large table near the hearth. It seems that the discussion has been going on for a while as Shao has an empty bowl in front of him and Mayhem is munching a rice ball. As the discussion turns to some fun things, Maggie relaxes a little, "That would be great. I would love to see that, actually." Lifting her mug, she holds it with one hand, elbow on the table. Her other arm remains lying there on the table. Slowly, her attention seems to flag a bit so when Shao mentions trumps she startles a hair, the still steaming coffee sloshing upward toward the mug's rim. It comes so close to spilling, the liquid swelling above the rim, suspended, then falling safely back down into the cup. "Ah. Right. I do not know how many of you have trumps?" She sets the mug down again, perhaps unwilling to risk another potential spill. "I have a few. One for my dad, one for mom and one for Random. If something goes badly, I can set up a relay to trump people out. I would rather not do that unless we need to." Hearing the bell tinkle, Maggie looks up and over. Spotting Raphaela, she lifts a hand to wave, her smile relaxed. As Merrisol enters after her, Maggie's wave is extended her smile shifting just a bit. She has a large mug of coffee in front of her and the air of someone for whom that vital stimulant is only partially effective. A weariness and wariness hovers over her like a shroud.

Quinlan says quietly, "If you need a fast exit, I've got a card that will take you to the gates of Amber. I wouldn't worry about escape routes."

Privately, to Merrisol, Maggie's gaze lingers on you for a bit longer than it should.

Raphaela hears that "I want a trump of that!!"

Raphaela, shameless, apparently.

Shao's grave air melts into uber embarassement. He stares at his cup of tea, his face something scarlet, probably thinking of drowning himself into it. Raphaela and Merrisol's arrive save his life. He bows his head to them. "Hello," he croaks. To Maggie, he mutters something about not knowing private matters. "Sorry, sorry," he apologises to the others around the table.

Liya blinks, giving Quinlan a long look, thoughtfully, though she does not copy Raphaela's words. She might be thinking them. She takes a breath and then takes a sip of coffee, not saying a word for the moment.

Girlfriend around his neck? Damn, that Merrisol might have a woman hanging on his neck, that rascal. But no, not right now. He blinks into the lighting change of the cozy atmosphere, and easily locates the group he knows. Letting the door shut on the wintery afternoon, he scrapes his boots on the mat and approaches the hearth-side table with Raphaela. When there is a good pause in the discussion, he says, "Apologies for arriving late.. some.. things on the ship needed my supervision." A glance around and over to Shao, questioning what the man has said of the incident, if anything. Finding the Penglai man in a bit of a state, he looks over at Maggie. "With Lady Raphaela's expertise on shipping routes, I thought she might be invited to sit and examine our mapped route," he offers.

Raphaela arches a brow "Oh, expedition!"

Maggie's gaze lifts as Merrisol and Raphaela approach. After a lingering moment that lasts but a moment or two she follows Merrisol's glance to Shao then back again. "No problem. Is everything settled?" The hesitation is noted but not commented on. Leaving the man, she refocuses on Raphaela and she nods, "Oh, indeed and welcome. Please..." She scoots her chair to one side, the sound of the legs moving against the floor a bit harsh. "Pull up another couple of chairs." Pausing for just a moment to reorient, she adds to the table at large, "Oh. If you use trumps to jump off the ship to deal with things back in Amber, please be sure that you can trump back again. I think that only my dad has a card of me at the moment, so that may make returning difficult."

Quinlan nods. "That's a problem yes," he says. "But once I've been there, I can walk back. And I've a boat, so - it's not instant, but I can get us back."

"I don't think anyone has a trump of me," Liya says, after a moment's consideration. "But truthfully, I wouldn't have thought anyone would want one." She sips at her coffee, and then she waves. "Raphaela, hello. And Kerfuffle - Oops, sorry, Merrisol, right?" She ducks her head a bit, as Mayhem finishes his treat and flops back against Liya's feet.

"Yes," Shao agrees. "Please tell Maggie if you leave ship, so we don't worry," he says. He sips of tea nervously, makes a face and decides to rest his hands on his lap. He closes his eyes a moment, to breathe. That seems to help, as does Liyandra's mix up with Merrisol's names. "Merrisol, good idea. I wish to know where we go," he mentions.

Raphaela looks at Maggie running on coffee vapors "Where are you going?"

Mild frown deepening a touch as he takes in evidence of Maggie's beleaguered state, Merrisol goes to pull a chair over for Raphaela, seating her between Liya and Shao if there's room. The talk of trumping about has been cause for a somewhat grimmer set to his expression by the time he's gotten his own seat in somewhere, close to Maggie's, because First Mateliness. "Yes, Liyandra, but I'll continue to answer to Kerfuffle. For you," he adds the casual footnote. His gaze pans around the group. Hmm, and you. And you. But not you.

Maggie waits until both Raphaela and Kerfisol have been settled before reaching into a pocket to draw out a slip of paper. Unfolding it, she sets it on the table for all to see, then passes it to Merrisol to pass around the table. It is a map of the seas in and around Minos. There is a notation near one corner that reads: Sail between Hacha and Antika. Below the words are a series of numbers indicating latitude and longitude. Looking up, she flickers a glance first to Merrisol, then focuses on Raphaela, "A near Shadow of Minos. That is where the ship is." Indeed, it seems to be out in the middle of the waters, far from any land mass.

Quinlan sips his coffee, munching a croissant, while peering at the map.

The group is seated around the large table near the hearth. Some heads are bent together in conversation while others are more generally listening. Most have coffee, though Shao has tea.

Liya beams at Merrisol for a moment, content with that answer. She is sipping coffee, Mayhem at her feet, behaving himself, for the moment. As the map comes out, she looks interested as well, taking a look when she gets a chance to look at it. "I think we shall have a grand adventure," she says, simply. She's relaxed, not to the point of lounging, but her body language has not a lot of tension in it.

Moxon waves in greeting to the cluster, fetching coffee for himself and finding a strategic table: back facing the wall, eyes facing the door. After trying his coffee, he relents, and requests tea instead. He requests, too, that the complimentary sugarcubes go to Liyandra. For the horses.

Raphaela looks "Ah, that ought to be interesting." then looks up and smiles brightly waving Moxon down "Come here Moxie!"

Shao 'oooohs' as the map passes before his eyes. He smiles for Maggie. He greets Moxon with a headbow.

There's a lot of people here today. At one table, quite a large group passing a map, and off to side, a Moxie at back table.

Merrisol does pass that sweet map around after taking a good eyeful himself. He makes a coffee order when the opportunity arises, leaning over to Maggie while the map circulates. "All's well on the ship. Captain Catriona and I -really- hit it off." Yeah. Sure did. Yup.

Raphaela does not. Look at Kerfuffling.

Brand comes in, pauses at Merrisol's words, looks between him and Maggie.

There is a Mayhem cat beneath the table, curled up by Liya's feet. Liya sips her coffee, and then blinks as the sugar cubes are brought over to her. She laughs outright at that, but sets them carefully into her pouch, well wrapped to keep them safe. She glances over at Moxon, and smiles, mouthing, "Thank you." Along with a jaunty wave. Her gaze goes to Raphaela, and then over to Moxon briefly. She tilts her head, silently seconding Raph's invitation.

Shao glances quickly over Merrisol. "What weather to expect, Maggie-san?" he asks. "For clothes, I mean." He sips of tea, watching Merrisol over his cup.

Nodding to Raphaela's comment, Maggie is about to reply when Merrisol leans over and speaks. There is a bit of an inflection there that catches and she darts the man a quick look. The hand holding her coffee mug tightens and her words are far too quietly spoken, "I am glad to hear that things on the ship are fine." As she speaks, her hand tightens farther. The ceramic mug gives a plaintive little protest before shattering, sending hot coffee over her hand and in a splash to the table top. Rising, she jumps back from the mess she has created. Shao's very relevant question does not get a reply just yet.

Quinlan seems to be a quiet observer in all this; sitting nearish Moxon, with a plate of croissants and a big coffee, studying Maggie's navigational map.
Raphaela blinks. "Maggie! Are you alright?" Staff hurries to clean the mess.

Liya's first glance is for the map, making sure it's still safe from the coffee-table. She also moves to put her body between any coffee spilling that might hit the poor kitty, quietly and inobtrusively.

Shao also jumps, not forgetting his cup and tea pot. As to allow the staff to rush in, he stand on his own chair. "Oh," he says, watching the commotion.

Leaning back in his chair again, Merrisol casts his attention over to the back table, to the man being randomly beckoned. Well that fellow's nose is interesting, but... "Will we know the status of the Gateway.. is there a way to-.." he's saying as he turns back to the table, gaze touching Brand near the entrance, and moving on to.. scalding splash fragments on his hand. He hisses, and moves to stand as well, the chair feet skating heavily. He holds out a hand to Maggie, to inspect her skin for injury. "What happened?"

Brand continues his way forward towards Maggie, brow raised, but not interfering.

Still standing on his chair, Shao bows deeply for Prince Brand.

Moxon blinks. The observant or keen-eared might hear, "... and I thought /I/ was post-traumatic." Dainty sip of scalding tea. He smiles to Raphaela and Liyandra's invitation, waves it off. "... you're busy. Another time's fine."

Raphaela turns at Shao's bow, and offers Brand an elegant curtsey.

Stepping back from the table, Maggie holds the wrist of her injured hand with the other. She is sort of staring at the palm as blood wells from where a piece of ceramic has lodged there. The skin is reddened where the hot liquid has run over it. She nods to Raphaela, "Fine. Thanks." Her tone is tight, almost a hiss, though she seems to mean it. Sort of. Stumbling back out of the way of the staff who come to clean up the mess, she scoots her chair out of the way with one calf. Lifting her head as Merrisol holds out a hand to take hers. She does not offer it, "What do you think happened? I got angry." Turning, she spots Brand and nods, "Hey, dad." Calm? Not exactly. Controled. Barely.

Raphaela says to staff "Cold water, first aid kit. Call for a mandrake."

Liya catches sight of curtseys and bows, and follows suit, though she does bow, given she's not wearing a dress. Then she settles back into her seat as Mayhem mrowls softly. One hand reaches to pet the kitten, as she watches the tableau quietly.

Quinlan stays where he is, but mess? It seems to be quietly, unobtrusively cleaning itself up, in a radius expanding slowly and gently from where he's sitting. Drinks evaporate, stains fade to nothing...perhaps the mage is murmuring something into his coffee?

Averting his eyes from Brand, Shao climbs down his chair to reseat himself, tea set before him. For some reason, he seems to be watching not Maggie or Brand or Merrisol... but Moxon.

Brand simply offers, "I got your note," as if nothing was amiss. Or he was being bowed at.

Moxon nods to Shao. "Hey."

Merrisol's brow settles low over his eyes in a frown of all-over bafflement. "Angry, over what?" he questions, perhaps stupidly. Mental rewind, Kerf, please, everyone's waiting. Or not. With staff hurrying over with conveniently-stored field supplies, he stands back and turns to follow Maggie's greeting to its target. Since it's too late for a 'Cheezit, it's your Dad!' kind of exclamation, he settles for an irritable look, and then a more dutiful nod of acknowledgement.

Liya, now having an identification on Prince Brand, does take a good look at the man, wanting to be able to recognize him in future. But for the moment, she doesn't say anything. She recognizes she's maybe seen him before, but - not entirely placed a name to the face. She moves herself out of the way of the staff, blinking at the disappearing spill, and glancing around the table to see if she can figure out who might be guilty.

Shao headbows back to Moxon. "Hello," he greets again. He shifts gaze to Prince Brand's knees. "I am honored to be here with a Prince," he mentions carefuly. He pours himself a fresh cup of tea, which he toasts to Brand.

Moxon watches, coolly, more curious than awed.

Quinlan is busy with his little magics, but he does give Brand a pleasant wave "hi there".

Lifting her hand, Maggie stares at Brand, then slips a glance to Merrisol. Setting her teeth, she pulls the ceramic out of her palm, releasing another burble of blood. Closing her fist over the wound, she swallows any pain that it brings. The bit of ceramic is tucked into a pocket rather than left for the staff to deal with. When the staff arrive with cold water and other supplies, she unclenches her hand to let them work on it. Odd, but wasn't the burn worse just a moment ago? Brand is given her attention first though the smile she offers is spare, "Thanks for coming. Would you mind making trumps for these folks for me? We're going to be gone a while and it would be handy if we could have a reliable means of communicating." Then she turns her gaze to Merrisol, "Can I have a word with you in private before the evening is over?" So, he might get an explanation. Maybe. That is when she finally notes Quin's handiwork. Her cousin is given a quick, honest smile.

Liya blinks, her eyes widening a bit at what Maggie just asked. She tilts her head for a moment, as she parses the request, and then she turns to the new cup of coffee brought her by the staff. Staying quiet, out of sight, out of mind, and totally under the radar. In theory.

Quinlan doesn't smile back. Actually, there's a sudden sense that the deer has Seen the Headlights and is frozen, wide-eyed, in place.

"Of course, Maggie," is Merrisol's harried response, eyes dropping from hers to her bloody hand, narrowing a bit. Then it's back to Brand, more curiously this time due to the standing request.

Brand says, "You want one of the waitress? The whole place?"

Moxon chugs his tea, quick-like.

Before sipping of tea, Shao finds himself a rice ball to chew from, from an inside pocket of his waistcoat.

Maggie nods to Merrisol, "Thank you." She waits while her hand is properly bandaged, then looks up at Brand, "Ah. No, thanks, dad. Just..." Lifting her free hand, she gestures as she speaks, "Quinlan, Merrisol, Liyandra, Shao... I would ask for one of Mordecai as well, and Bashar, but they are not here." Then something occurs to her and she looks at each of them in turn, "Um. If that is okay?" Well, she skips Merrisol in that last request. He just gets a long look before she returns her attention to Brand, "Please?" See? She can be polite. Sort of.

Raphaela says "If you allow me," to Maggie "I think one trump of you would suffice to begin with, for team to be able to return."

Quinlan shakes his head slightly. It's a jerky motion, the kind you might see if, for example, someone was making an effort of will to not be watching a huge bladed pendulum that happened to be swinging for their crotch. Apparently, he is not requesting any trumps be drawn of him. At all. Really.

Raphaela isn't even part of the team!

Liya glances up briefly, her own eyes somewhat startled as she looks at Maggie. And there's a concerned look on her face, as she sits there, not quite sure what to say. She opens her mouth, closes it, and then she just ducks her head, not answering.

Merrisol is minding his own business, sort of, just watching Brand who is apparently the Go-To Prince for trumps. From the general reaction to Maggie's words, it is filtering into him, however, the sense that there's something amiss with this particular Going-To. He glances at Maggie just to catch the tail-end of her look at him. "Fine.. it's fine," he says. IS IT?

Brand doesn't look upset. "I don't think they were in your original trump deck." He seems to be producing a trump, however...and seems to be offering it to Quinlan.

Shao watches the offering of trump with interest. "What an honor, Quinlan-san!" he says, visibly impressed.

Maggie shakes her head, "No, they weren't, dad. But... I want folk to be able to get off the ship quickly if needed. And back. So... Yeah." Eloquence, thy name is Maggie. Though to be fair, she has yet to sleep and just got a shock. Oh, and the cut. But, that seems to bother her less. Leaning over, she kisses Brand's cheek, "Thanks, dad." Stepping back, she leans against the wall next to the hearth rather than reclaiming her chair. Every so often her gaze slips to Merrisol only to jerk away again. And again. Finally, she folds her arms in front of her and focuses on the floor.

Quinlan rises, bowing as he accepts the card. Glancing at it, he seems briefly puzzled, but right at the moment the mageling seems dead set against any boat rocking. "Thank you, sir."

Shao beams with marvel at such a sight. He celebrates with a sip of tea, keeping the remainder of his rice ball in his left hand, for later.

Raphaela looks between Maggie and Sunshine and sighs, sipping.

Moxon says, "Hnh."

Merrisol remains standing as well, as though chairs are now out of style.. see, even Maggie knows it. He attempts to follow the formality of the trump-granting, though with the opposite sentiment to Shao's fascination, but keeps getting sidetracked. Each time he tries to return Maggie's gaze, hers skates elsewhere. Oh, this is bad.. but at least the game of eye-tag is amusing SOMEone.

Brand flicks another one out for Maggie. Did he manage to draw a trump of someone using his mind only? What the....?

Liya looks up to watch as Quinlan is given a card, but she stays where she is, not rocking any boats or even drawing attention to herself. Really, she's not here. Honest. If she could fade into the woodwork, she would. Kerf and Maggie's eye-tag is missed, though she does watch as Quinlan is given a card. And then Maggie.

Moxon rises, sweeping his robes so as not to get caught under any chairlegs. Just in case that happens with Princes who aren't Caine, y'see. He bows to the group, then. "Back to the grindstone, I think. Be well."

Shao leans closer to Liyandra, to mutter, "Prince Brand looks in a good mood today." The Penglai marvel boy is, alas, oblivious of any card trick going on. He does though headbows for Moxon.

Quinlan smiles a bit as Moxon rises. "You too," he says quietly.

Raphaela looks at Moxie "Hey wait..I need a chat with you..."

Moxon pauses. "Mmhmm?"

Merrisol doesn't manage to catch sight of the image on the card as it spins at Maggie, missing the significance of Brand's spontaneous acts. For all he knows, a full deck's worth of cards is going to be randomly sprayed at them in a twisted game of 52-Pickup, followed by white killer bunnies for an encore. Moxon's vocal departure earns a quick look and nod. Civility established, formal introductions later, maybe.

Raphaela rises "Wait up..." and gives the table in general a curtsey "I'll catch you all up later, if not, have a good expedition everyone."

Maggie looks up at last as Brand passes her a card. She twitches a smile as she looks at it, "Wow. Thanks. This will come in handy." Although the enthusiasm in her tone, while there, is slightly muted, her gratitude is honest. She takes a moment to examine the card, then slips it carefully into the pocket that holds her growing collection. Moxon's farewell catches her attention and she lifts her chin his way, "Later, maybe?" Remaining where she stands, Maggie's gaze drops to Raphaela, Shao and Liyandra. Merrisol? Well, yes, her gaze slips sidelong toward where he remains standing.

Liya glances over at Moxon, taking he gaze away from Brand and his card tricks. "Later," she calls softly to him. "Take care." And then she glances at Raphaela, and she inclines her head, smiling at the other woman. "You take care too, okay?" She risks looking back over at Kerfisol and Maggie, and Brand. Yes.

Brand says, "AM I scaring everyone off again?"

Raphaela blows a kiss at Liya as she runs after Moxon, dips another curtsey to Brand and says, dead serious "Totally, highness." a brilliant smile and darts.

Shao smiles and headbows for Raphaella. Brand's question keeps him from wishing Raphaela something, instead he say to Brand, "Of course not, Sir. We are honored to share this place with you." We are, right? He glances to the others.

Quinlan shakes his head. "No, sir," he says quietly. He seems to have decided that the oncoming train is on a different track, and has remembered how to breathe. As Moxon and Raphaela depart, he returns to the spells cleaning up the mess. "Just been a very educational day, sir. Can wear people out."

Merrisol has no answer for Brand. Again? He missed that other time, apparently. His glance drifts between Shao and Quinlan, and he frowns. One lying, the other telling the truth? Bonus points for figuring out which.

Liya grins at Raphaela as she departs, and turns her attention then to Shao, eyes widening a bit. She takes a sip of her coffee and stays where she is, outwardly relaxed. Mayhem is staying beneath the table, though a soft rumblepurr might be heard, if you are near enough to hear it.

Maggie knows more about her dad than she once did and her eyes might hold a measure of that knowledge. Either that or the sobriety in her gaze is aimed at another in the room. Raphaela is given a wave before she smiles a bit to Brand, "I don't think so. They had other things to do, dad. Don't worry about it." That much is true anyway. A frown begins, though the question that hovers there goes unasked. Lifting one leg she bends it at the knee and rests the bottom of her foot against the wall.

Brand frowns and sighs. "I must be losing my touch, then."

Quinlan gives Brand a look so blank it could masquerade as typing paper. Then he looks down at his big cup of coffee, and sets it aside. "...Waitress? A nice big cup of decaf, please?"

Shao chuckles lightly. "You are in a very good mood today, Sir. I feel I have to thank you for your fine... humor? Humor, yes," he compliments Brand, finding the right words up in his head, somehow.

Liya blinks, her gaze raising at Brand's comment, almost unwillingly. "Or else the rest of us are lunatics?" she murmurs under her breath, as she looks back down to take a sip of coffee. And then she looks up to watch what is going on, not sure if she should be taking Brand seriously or if he was joking. She looks to Shao, and then over to Quinlan, before she decides.

Merrisol's weight shifts slightly, but otherwise he's good where he is, standing at casual attention on the other side of the hearth. When it seems clear the matter of the trumps has been addressed, with Quinlan and Maggie, and now they are all just... what. Waiting to see what else Shao can come up with from the obsequious praise bucket? He eyeshifts to Liya at her mutter, considering that, then inexorably, he glances at Maggie again. Yeah, there might be a bit of impatience starting up. A bit.

Maggie blinks three times in quick succession at that, her gaze snapping to Brand. She studies him for a moment or three, then draws in a long, slow breath. "Okay... Look. I need to have a word with Merrisol. Would it be okay if I get the other trumps from you in the morning?" Realizing slowly exactly how that sounds, she closes her eyes and shakes her head, "Not what I meant." That is when she looks over at the man in question. Catching that look with it's impatience, her brows rise almost to her hairline and she motions toward the door with a jerk of her head and a spark in her eyes that might indicate a renewed anger.

Brand says, "Well, we'll certainly talk."

Shao's smile sinks a little. Oh what's that, tea? Yum. He sips. And a rice ball, half of one really, in his left? He leans just a bit backward to look at Mayhem. Hop goes the rice ball, have fun kitty.

Brand just nods and moves to sit down. "Keep a line open if you need me."

Liya shifts her position, one hand disappearing under the table, where Mayhem is hanging out. She pets the cat who chirrups lightly, and then purrs more. It brings a smile to her face, though she simply closes her mouth as she spies the emotions running rampant at the moment. Mayhem then chirrups again, nudging Liya's hand. She glances over Shao's way, frowning at the man briefly.

Quinlan gets his nice big cup of decaf and offers, "If you bring me the broken cups, I can mend them for you." The waitress seems pleased at the offer and starts gathering up broken cup.

Brand is moving towards wherever Quinlan is sitting

Quinlan dutifully sees to it that there's a place for Brand to sit, and offers a croissant.

"You're going to get the cat in trouble," Liya tells Shao, after a moment, adding to her frown. She glances down and then moves her foot, shifting to get out of his way, it seems, so he can pounce the half fish ball.

Shao glances back at Liyandra with this 'it's only a rice ball?' look. The look changes into a 'really sorry' face. Hopefully, there was a piece of paper wrapping coming with his rice ball. Shao gets busy flattening it, to commence some elaborate folding.

RPG: You consent to having your Trump drawn by Brand.

Maggie eyes Brand when she realizes that the trump contact is done sans trump. Interesting trick that. "Right. Will do. Thanks." Turning on her heel, she pushes from the wall, drawing the still bloody piece of crockery from her pocket to set it down on the table near Quinlan. Eww. But, if he is going to fix the mug, maybe he'll want all the pieces. She does not look at Merrisol as she turns for the door. She expects that he will meet her outside.

Brand takes the pastry and watches Merrisol as he (presumably) leaves. Intently.

Merrisol responds to the vaguely damning gaffe with a low clearing of his throat. The headjerk doorwards is welcomed despite the warning bells silently buzzing from that look in Maggie's eyes. "Right. If no one has need to study this anymore?" he adds, reaching over chairs to pick the map up from the table, folding it again for safe-keeping. There's a pause as Brand directs Maggie to 'keep a line open'. Is that... like turning the porch-light on while they're out there talking, or something? Bloody hell. Merrisol doesn't bother to school his glower as he skirts the table and heads for the exit.

Brand says, "His opinion of another Captain calls his judgement into question, just be careful."

Liya smiles at Shao, and leans over to say very softly, "I'm trying to teach him to not accept food from anyone but me. If you want to give him treats, I don't mind, but would you please check with me first?" Meanwhile under the table, chomp chomp, mrowl, purr.

Quinlan watches the departures, absently murmuring spells to remove the blood from the shard of cup. It would seem the offer to repair the cup was so he'd have something to do with his hands.

Shao finishes his paper folding just in time to see the door close behind Maggie, and Merrisol over there trying to escape. "Yes, Lady Liyandra," he confirms with her on the tone of a scolded schoolboy. And Lo! A paper fish.

Brand says, "Well, that was fun."

After leaving the coffee shop, Maggie stalked a block or so away. Now, she leans against a blank wall rather near the entrance to an alley. Maybe she means for this discussion to happen in at least a reasonable facimile of privacy.

Merrisol squints as the door closes behind him and the light quality changes, but hardly needs his eyes functioning to follow Maggie. With a long stride, he catches up rather than trailing along behind, taking the curbside position. Once she stops, he pivots to face her, with heightened expectancy, but manages to wait and give her the opportunity to set the topic.

It would be so much easier to just... vent. And maybe in her mind he deserves it. But it is in her nature to at least attempt reason. So, when she looks up to meet his eyes she tries for rationality. However, the pain and betrayal she feels is clear there in her gaze even if her voice remains calm. Ish. "After that kiss last night, I had words with the night man. I told him that if you should call again, you were to be let up to my room. Then, I went out into the city. At first it was to try and cool down. Then it was to look for you." She pauses, for this is not exactly relevant. "Kerf... I know that we don't have an agreement, exactly. I know that things between us are... complicated and I do not have the right to ask anything of you one way or the other... What I was trying to tell you last night in an oblique way is this... I love you and want to be with you. But that does not mean that you need to make the same decision. Just... if you do not want to be with me, then say so. If you do not know, then say that. Just don't dangle your conquests in front of me. It... hurts too much."

Sparing a few moments to glance towards the alley's shadowy mouth, checking for robbers up to no good probably, his gaze moves restlessly back to her. Whether he is interpreting the emotions held in her gaze correctly or not, once he does meet her eyes, concern lights his, and then, yes, remorse, as thoughts begin to emerge from the mass of confusion. Her first words confirm his assumptions, and he nods, intending to hear her out... intending. But it's not long before he's looking somewhat shocked, and speechless during the short pause. Then she moves on, and if he was going to say anything it's held over to listen for a little longer. The consternation fades and gentles, and there's a return to his expression an unguarded reflection of all those past moments of intimacy - a quiet, sure look without words, that doesn't change that much even with the sweet declaration of love and passion from her lips. The words just add to the pleasure in his eyes, a faint curl to the edges of his mouth. Then... the rest is spoken, during which he shifts his weight and tilts his head, starting to frown again. Conquests? Suddenly, he can't wait for his turn, one second longer, and steps forward the distance necessary to bring them close enough to just touch even without hands, but he does lift his own to bracket her shoulders, gentle, but with a comforting weight to them. His head bends lower to deliver the low words for her ears alone, plus any 'line' that may be open, trump or no. He doesn't care about that. "Hush, Maggie. Say no more about doubting my love and desire is equal to yours.. and look at me. Look."

She watches the emotions that play across his face for once she has said her peace, she means to give him a chance to think before speaking. The shock is a bit of a surprise and a brow lifts. Still, she does not address it for his gaze takes on a gentle cast, then one of unguarded pleasure. She blushes, for what else is there to do then? Her lips twitch into a smile that answers the curl of his. When the distance is closed so quickly, she lifts her hands to rest against his chest as his bracket her shoulders. Her breathing may have grown a bit short, shallow, a touch more rapid. She does not care if her father is listening or not. Clearly she did not heed his 'take care' message. Her smile grows when he answers her declairation with one of his own and she does look at him, for how could she possibly do otherwise? More importantly, there is nowhere else that she would care to look.

A good block south of the coffeehouse they'd exited a little while ago, Maggie and Merrisol are hanging out just to the side of an alley way. Bad, spooky, dark alleyway, these nice ship-based folks just don't understand alleyways. Maggie has her back to the wall of the non-descript building, and Merrisol is right smack in front of her, hands trapping her in place at the shoulders. Her hands are up on his chest. His head is bent, whispering, while she looks up at him. Neither of them have any blades sticking out of their bodies, if anyone's wondering.

Having himself just left the Coffee House for a backhouse break, Shao notices the very, oh so very odd couple from the corner of his eye. He keeps going, his education preventing him to notice such public display. On the other hand, his mind is trained to pick up details and investigate. On the other other hand... ah hell. A bit nervous, he tracks back to spy on what is going on.

Tessa strides down the road, sure to cross path with Shao before Maggie and Merrisol. She spins a club from a strap hooked around her finger, the deadly black beating utensil lazily arcing.

Privately, to Maggie, Merrisol's eyes are overshadowed by the downward angle of his head, but just enough light invades the scant space between them to glow there in the green embers. "I have no poetic speeches in me to describe the depths of my admiration for your strength and character, or the fearful but pleasurable aches that are within me when I see you.. when you are close.. Maggie. They are there. If you trust me enough to love me, then trust me when I say that.. although it cannot be expressed as clearly as need be. As you said, things are so complicated."

After the intimately close position holds for a round of hushed whispering, Merrisol does step back, transferring his hands from her shoulders to the wall, pushing away as though conspiring forces would rather keep him right there, just so. "One thing though.. Lady Catriona? She despises me for what I did with her ship. What I said to you was.. an exaggeration of a simple attempt to... spare you the details of my humiliation and just how close it came to you losing her favour and her service," he offers in a normal tone, trying to be factual.

A bit flushed from watching the public closeness of Maggie and Merrisol, Shao only notices Tessa when she is close. He straightens up, fully blushing not. "Ah humm..." he explains. He bows, too fast and too low. "I am with Maggie-san," he explains more. No, that did not sound right. "And Merrisol." Pause. "We are a team. Ah humm. Ship expedition?"

Tessa looks to Shao, to where Maggie and Merrisol just recently seperated, then squints as she finally looks back at Penglai. Seconds drag, like a corpse being thrown into the hole that Shao almost buried himself in. "You pass. Stop staring at intimate parties unless, of course, it's lewd. Then you should report... /and/ then stare." She takes a deep breath, rubbing her forehead. "Ah, I remember you. Man at the haunted house."

A slight shimmering sound precursors the arrival of the young woman. Her men dressed in Lyonesse attire following behind her looking a bit disgruntled at her apparent desire to walk. Her skirts swirling around her hips and legs, accentuating the movement of hips with the occasional slight gimmer of something sparkling at her waist. Those expressive green eyes of Izett catching the light on occasion almost seeming to glow from within.

Privately, to Merrisol, Maggie speaks very softly, "I do not care for flowery speaches, Kerf. If the words are true and come from your heart, that is all that matters." She pauses, then touches a light brush of her lips to his cheek as he backs away, that hesitation sufficient for the quick touch.

The whispering concludes as Merrisol steps back. Maggie's hands leave his chest and drift to her sides. Listening to the louder explaination of the comment that began this tete-a-tete back in the caffee, she nods once, "I see. Well, thank you for clarifying the situation. Do I need to speak to her about it? Or, are things back on track?" She remains where she is until the man steps back. Then she eases forward, almost as though unwilling to lengthen that almost negligable distance between them.

"Oh yes. You are Captain Tessa. You saved my life," Shao says quietly, his eyes attracted back to Maggie and Merrisol like a moth to the flames. "I owe you. I promise to warn you of all the lewd I see. Like this." He stares down the alleyway. Izett's appearance compels him to sidestep, as to block the view from the street. "Hello," he greets, with a polite headbow.

Merrisol is in his drab brown coat today, no flashy fancy red really catch the eye. The faint hint of humility expressed in his lowered shoulders would not have suited the brocade waistcoat either. He shakes his head slowly. "The encounter ended equitably enough, though whether you decide to speak with her on the subject at any rate, is of course up to you. She is..." he pauses, eyes rolling to the side while he hunts for a diplomatic word. "...quite a grouch." Then he flickers his gaze again in the same direction, the literal double-take, and spots Shao not so very far away, engaged in discussion with Tessa. Where'd they come from? Merrisol eyes them, focusing more intently on Tessa however, then he looks the other way to take in other presences, and then he looks back at Maggie, tensely. "About last night..." Last night? How about: 'About three minutes ago...'?

Tessa straightens as Shao approaches the two, but pauses when Izett crosses their path. "Lady Izett?" She seems a little surprised, certainly not scandalized, but something about her dress catches her by surprise. "You've been away for too long. Welcome back."

As if on high like a choir of angels, the sound of hoofbeats against the cobbles heralded the arrival of horse and rider. Golden rays of sun beamed down, casting a sheen upon the mare's white flesh and glinting against the riders mail armour like droplets amidst a spring rain. Walking along the avenue, though one could not quite place their finger upon it, some might think the pair coursed through the traffic just a triffle too slowly, as if singlehandedly all were brought in to a sort of Matrix-time, or a Ralph Lauren commercial, as the rider cast his eyes unflinchingly forward toward the horizon; someone going somewhere and not too concerned as to how by means of an unquenchible confidence of destined arrival. A gust of wind rippled through his great black cloak, giving him a sense of mass that did not quite, in point of fact, exist but beyond in the realm of imagination. Sir Bashar had arrived. Noticing a familiar face (or two) amongst those idling on the street, horse and rider came to a smooth halt beside where Human-Maggie and Merrisolfuffle had congreagated. Raising his hand into the hair in salute, he greeted, "Good afternoon and well met!"

Izett smiles warmly her vision directed toward Shao and Tessa seemingly not really noticing as yet with the sideward stepping of Shao any others. A genteel movement of silk, creating a glistening of beads as she curtsies, "M'lord.." she offers before her attention is drawn toward Tessa and a bright warm smile of recognition alights her features and makes her eyes dance with happiness, "Lady Tessa..such a pleasure to see you again. I trust you've been well.." she tilts her head studying Tessa, "New look, M'lady?". Her attention is then drawn toward the one on the horse for a brief moment before her attention is drawn back to Tessa.

Shao bows for Izett. "My lady. Yes, you are too generous for a simple man like me," he thanks. He pivots to look at the horses and their rider. And he smiles.

Tessa runs a hand over her smooth dome, grimacing. The Rider's arrival, though, distracts her for long enough to shove the hand forcefully back into a pocket of her coat. "Aye. Fresh from a party? I hope that you did not have /too/ much fun."

Maggie's lips twitch slightly, "I have never met her. A grouch? Well... That will make the trip interesting." As if it needed more to make it thus, what with one thing and another. Her gaze tracks to one side and she too spots the Shao and company. Her brows lift a bit, startled. When did the ever so quiet Pathi end up there? A blink ot two as she takes in the others, from Tessa to the bangled and spangled Lady. She nods to them all, then looks back to Merrisol. At the mention of 'last night', a blush touches Maggie's cheeks, but she nods, "Yes?" Bashar's arrival on the Equine-Maggie is greeted with a distracted wave, for this is something that she really needs to hear.

Izett laughs softly at Tessa's words, "M'lady you know I am always the height of decorum.." her Lyonesse accent lacing her words heavily as she obviously hasn't been in Amber for a while. Her attention turns then to Shao, delicate hands clasped demurely in front of her, "I'm told often, but I have always found better to err on the compliment than err on criticism. In either case, Good afternoon M'lord" she offers cheerfully obviously left in a pleasant mood from whatever party she had attended. Her men drawing in closer with so many strangers about the young woman who clearly appears unarmed.

"What happened... was..." NO. Merrisol's brow wrinkles downwards, creases deepening around his eyes, as he holds the word 'incredible', struggling in his mouth, trying to swallow it down before it escapes unbidden. "...incredib-oh -hell- and -blast-, Bashar!" The cantering hoof beats of his arrival in the area had not been the show-stopper the Knight had imagined, certainly, but when he stops -right- there behind Merrisol the effect is quite close to what Sir Bashar may have had in his head... he has won the attention.. if not the praise. Merrisol flinches away like he's afraid Mags the Horse will mistake his head for a bale of wheat, and pivots to end up on Maggie's side, looking out to the street and its occupants, the mounted one in particular. "Are you mad?" Well.. he didn't really mean to demand that out loud. But -someone- had to. Honestly.

"Good afternoon, milady," Shao mimics, overly pleased by the attention he gathers. He politely headbows to the bodyguards. "At the Rose and Crown, they call me either 'Slant eyes' or 'that Penglai cat', or sometimes 'a gentleman'," he mentions. "I ask to be excused," he adds, departing to reinforce Maggie and Merrisol's infantry against Bashar's cavalry.

Tessa grimaces at the three gathering, but none of it immediately speaks of 'danger'. "Aye, m'lady. The picture of it." The guards closing in only reinforces the slightest lilt in her tone. "I'd ask if you needed an escort to your home, but...." She motions at the group as Shao departs.

Bashar's eyebrows creased in confusion, though the horse did side-step a pace or two away from Merrisol. "Mad?" the rider asked rehtorically. "Not at all. What cause should I have to be angry?" And to punctuate the point, he offered Merrisol a pleasant smile and polite bow of the head. "I assure you, sir, you have offered me no offense." He then turned his attention to Human-Maggie. "Funny thing, I was down at the harbour for that cruise you're planning when one of the officers informed me that we weren't pushing off until tomorrow." Bashar looked up to the sky for a moment, as if gauging it, before turning his attention to Maggie. "Did I get the wrong day? I was just on my way to that, emm, 'inn', to find you so it's rather fortuitous to come upon you here by chance." But in that moment some kind of realisation seemed to strike the man, as evidenced by the purse of his lips into a pout. "Oh dear me." he said, looking between the two with concern, "I am not interrupting anything, am I?"

Izett smiles warmly toward Shao, "Of course, M'lord" those green eyes drifting toward the mounted gentleman considering him for a moment before she turns her full attention toward Tessa leaving them to their own devices to talk to what is obviously an old friend, "What? Because my men insist on staying with me everywhere, and the Knights of the Graal not far behind a friend can't join me for a walk?" she teases Tessa.

Shao respectfully stays a couple paces away from the horses (headbow for the horses) and the new-formed trio. "You must be Lord Bashar," he says, before bowing for the man. "I am Shao. Honored to meet you."

Izett speaks softly with Tessa, those green eyes of her so expressive, clearly happy to see her friend. Her men start to relax with Tessa closer to Izett dropping back slightly to give the two room to speak in private. The two starting to walk away a little as they begin to talk. Her attention glimpsing up slightly toward the trio and the mounted one, "M'lords, M'ladies.." she states politely with a slight curtsey not wishing to interfere into their conversations.

Incredible. That would have been her word for the evening before. She nods, her smile quick at Merrisol's response to Bashar's appearance. She nods once to the mounted man's comment, "Tomorrow, Bashar. Right. I may have been less clear than I intended being. Sorry about that." Turning a hair when Shao joins them, Maggie motions from one to the other, "Shao-san, this is my old friend Bashar and his steed." She does not give the horse's name. Looking the other way, "Bashar, this is my new friend, Shao-san. And you know Merrisol." So everyone in this group is now introduced. She begins to fade back, then. "Oh, Shao-san? Would you please see how Maggie..." Oh, that did it. She gestures to the horse, "handles travel by sea? I need to get a few more things sorted out. Merrisol? If you would not mind coming with me?" Turning, she waves and begins to head up the street.

The white mare looked to Shao upon his arrival and nickered. His attention having been caught by the other man, as one's attention is wont to when address by another, Bashar turned his focus to the Jadeite. In a fluid motion the rider dismounted from the mare in a well practiced swoosh. Offering Shao a deep bow, polite and from he waist, he dovetailed Maggie's quick identificaiton with his own, extended version. "Welcome and well met, Master Shao, though I confess I am no lord. I am Sir Bashar mal ce Taegar, knight errant, and pleased for the introduction for I'm afraid our last meeting did not permit such pleasantries. I am very glad that the medicians over at the hopsital have managed to patch you up. Last I saw you you were a bit worse for wear." To Izett, now finding himself address by another individual, though this one appeared on the periphery and thust not a part of Human-Maggie's group, Bashar offered another bow. "Ma'am. Good day." he said simply to her, a point of pleasant courtesy but as much as could be allowed for without introduction or point of reference.
"Oh, no trouble. No trouble at all." Bashar said, waiving away Human-Maggie's concerned about the scheduling mix-up. "I'll just call it practice for the coming event!" he stated, grinning, and then offered yet another bow, this time to the remaining woman in anticipation of her departure. "Good day and god speed, Miss Maggie. And let's pray for good weather on the morrow, eh?"

Merrisol's pique deflates when Bashar counters with utter comprehension failure. He just stands there staring at the man in perplexity, while Maggie steps up to handle things in her able way. He glances to the side as Shao approaches, for a moment flickering his gaze beyond to check for Tessa's presence. Hum. He flashes Shao a tight, oblique smile, hedging his bets in case the Penglai -did- see something happen between Maggie and Merri himself. "Yes, all right," he responds to Maggie's suggestion that they away to... get things sorted out. "Sir, Shao, a later time, perhaps."