The Captains' Last Dance

[rassafraggin]

Having caught the gist of Maggie's intentions in chatting up the Kitezh monarch, Merrisol keeps himself busy with the fish for the duration. He has his own opinions on the theme of their debate, boy does he, but they are not necessarily conducive to promoting Amy's greater happiness. A little while later, detecting a lull in the sounds from that direction, he glances over and sees their attentions have drifted apart... hers, in particular, now on Merri. Turning on the spot, he saunters on over, smiling expectantly but not too broadly, in case she has reached an unfavourable verdict regarding her dear friend's betrothed.

For her part, Maggie has not yet decided whether the Kitezh King is worthy of Amy. Not that she gets a say in the matter. Although, in fairness, the man is not giving off the 'kill him now and save Amy the trouble later' vibe. Which is probably a good thing, all things considered. Then again, she could not possibly keep those thoughts alive with Merrisol heading her way with that smile. Her lips curve in answer and she lifts a hand to take his as he nears. Poor Viktor is pretty much forgotten. For now. Turning her hand upwards she brings his hand to her lips and places a gentle kiss to the skin on the back. Lowering both, she glances toward the bandstand where Elad and his Eel are preparing for Elad's number. Curiosity flickers in her gaze though she does not voice it yet. Instead her gaze returns to her husband, "Having fun, Kerf?"

Merrisol slips his other hand around her shoulder to lightly palm her upper back, much more easily done when there isn't a cloudy mane of ruddy fire to catch up between the fingers. The downside is now everyone in the dining area can just as easily observe when he runs his thumb up and down her spine to the nape of her neck. "Yes, Maggie. I have spent more time in the company of family.. Morfilod that is.. than I had ever imagined I would. The young Lords are more raring than ever to form a taskforce to help with Deep issues." Yes.. Yes that /does/ mean Rebma is a step closer to having Mighty Morfilod Power Rangers. "How have you fared today? Were you able to send the signed documents off with the Lieutenant?" Nalwin had readily offered to be their GoFer during the reception, to deal with the wheels of holiday bureaucracy in Amber and get the adoption certificates before the Ministry offices shut down. The task has been potentially made both simpler and trickier, in that the records of that particular orphanage had been partially destroyed in the flooding. With the Selkie's winning ways and big brown gooey eyes, however, he was certain he would accomplish the mission.

Maggie's smile warms as Merrisol's hand moves along her back. She draws in a slow breath, focusing on his eyes as her free hand slips to his waist. "It has been a good day so far. Lieutenant Nalwin did bring me the papers, waited while I read and signed them, then whisked them off to Amber. Mr. Anderson is preparing two of the empty cabins for the kids. It will give them a place to call their own while on the ship." She flickers a glance beyond Merrisol toward the Morfilod tables and a crinkle of amusement touches the corners of her eyes, "I am glad to hear that, Kerf. They seem like good people. Your cousin Rilla is particularly fond of you, from what I can tell. I might be meeting her later, I think." Nibbling her lower lip slightly, she looks back and adds, "I like your Aunt, so far though we have not really talked yet."

"She can be difficult to engage," Merri smiles, although it's clear he likes the taciturn Lady Aunt. "But I am certain Rilla will be overjoyed to have some time with you. In fact, it would not be wise to leave Rebma without giving her the chance to bend your ear. Like me, she has a very particular way of remembering things," he grins a bit now, as perhaps it occurs to him what sort of memories Maggie might be able to cull from The Cousin. The fine tracing becomes a fuller motion, all fingertips stroking down Maggie's back until his hand encounters the anchor point of that nebulous fish tail he can see billowing and settling behind her. "As for the children.. they shall have their home back at Liya's, now that the danger phase has passed. We can go get them from the island straight away after the reception.. and Rilla.. if you like." This reception? This one that has been running for a few days, with seemingly no end to the buffet and drinks and musical entertainment? They will wrap up today though, surely, now that the festival on the Promenade has also begun, else services be stretched thin. Merrisol lifts his hand, letting the delicate knit and fabric sift past his fingers, then bends a bit at the waist to whisper to Maggie's ear.

Maggie nods slowly, "I'll let her know that I am interested if she is. Your aunt, I mean." A grin starts then and she nods, "I am looking forward to spending time with her. And with Rilla. Though I expect that your cousin will have more to say than her mother." Her eyes half lid with the motion of his hand down her back, her smile taking on a faintly different cast for an instant before she clears her throat and opens her eyes again. "Oh, I know that the house can be secured, Kerf. I just want them to know that they are welcome where we are." In her distraction, she almost missed something important. "Um... Are you suggesting that I invite your cousin to come with us to the island to get the kids?" Tilting her head to one side, she lifts the corresponding brow. Her hand glides up his side, then angles to rest behind his shoulderblade as she leans in to listen to that whisper.

Merri draws back, touches his forehead briefly to Maggie's as though renewing a telepathic link, then leans away to look at her. "Oh.. I wasn't. Rilla has never been to the surface, or even above a certain depth, not like the city folk. She would probably be interested in trying it out, but going aboard a sailing ship through Shadow is too much." He pauses, mulling over another issue before saying simply, "You know my opinion on the kids living on the Dancer, Maggie. It hasn't changed over the past year." A contentious issue, perhaps best saved for another time. He isn't that equipped to be annoyed at this time, nor is he that willing. "You saw Elad..? He has moved in to play for the Last Dance, which was to be a big waltz, full orchestral. Elad will perform after that, now.. just for us. Something quiet.. is that all right, darling?"

Maggie's smile softens at the whisper, her eyes closing however briefly in response. Lifting her head, she almost whispers something in reply, but the touch of his forehead to hers silences the impending words. Opening her eyes, she looks into his. Whatever her reply was is silently sent or saved for later. It takes her a minute to reorient as he speaks about his cousin, "Ah. Well, maybe she can visit the Dancer while at anchor. If she wants to." Softly, her smile pauses, though she shakes her head, "I did not say that the kids would live aboard, O and O. I mean to give them a place to sleep that is not a tent on nights when we picnic and are caught in weather. To let them know that we are thinking of them even then." Maybe less contentious than it may have seemed. She searches his eyes, and is willing to let it go for another time. A blink and it can be gone for now. Nodding, she glances toward the bandstand again, "I did. I..." Inhaling, she flits a smile up to Merrisol as she half laughs, half breaths, "That is very much all right, my love." Her hand trails down his back, then lifts to gesture toward the dance-column, "Shall we?"

That aforementioned grand waltz is coming up, sounds like, with the shuffling of the chamber musicians into their positions within the open cockle, and couples eagerly taking up places on the dance floor, a number of them ready to ascend to higher levels once the generated currents will support them. Off to the side, Elad has momentarily lost his Ocarinist but gained an admirer or two from the sidelines, and so is kept well-occupied for the duration.

Merrisol takes Maggie's hand and checks for space availability for what is likely the last hurrah for large-scale Rebman ballroom for the season, unless one of the noble houses will be hosting something exclusive, which is also likely. Reaching over, Merrisol hooks her train, gathers it, and helps to drape it over her elbow, containing its range so that they aren't going to fwap anyone out of orbit. "Let's," he grins sunnily, hand sliding over her back again while he escorts his bride to an opening in the dance arena.

Maggie's hand closes on Merrisol's, though she waits while he gathers the trailing length of her train into the crook of her elbow. Watching the couples who have chosen to dance take their places, Maggie is briefly struck by the bittersweet notion that this is likely the last gala public event in Rebma for the season. She flickers Merrisol a glance and a warm smile to answer his that turns impish as his hand glides over her back. As they move into the dance column, angling for an empty spot, she leans a bit closer to murmer something to him. Her voice is soft enough to keep the comment private even with the anticipatory silence that falls.

Marlene has been circulating a bit, and, currently between dance partners, is collecting some sort of shell-drink and watching, essentially.

Ruby moves up to the dance floor, and looks for a good place to watch and perhaps join in. When things appear to be somewhat more fancy than she assumed, she shifts her eyes from couple to couple. A ritual is in progress. Best to observe and see if it can be mimicked. She mouths a few silent words when she clues into the formal affair on display. The large woman is bereft of drink, having slooshed around a real cauldron of beverages and taking a small break.

A stir begins at one edge of the throng of revelers as a giant of a Rebman makes his way toward the dancefloor. His long, very dark blue hair is pulled into a shark's tail at the base of his skull though the ends curl a bit even in the water. Flashing, laughing green eyes scan the scene, taking it all in. Judging by the man's physique he is either a Morfilod Whale Wrangler or one of the undersea smiths of song and story. One broad-palmed hand lifts and he smooths his mustache with thick, dexterous fingers. Wading through the smaller throngs of Rebmanity, he angles toward Ruby.

A young Bauquemare fellow with long partially-braided blue hair, wearing slim scaled trunks and lame' vest of paler blue, straightens his bling once he sees Marlene free on the sidelines. He launches into a hurried swim to get to her side before his friends notice. "Milady Marlene?" he inquires, and darts a shifty eyed look about to make sure he really is the first in line for once. "I realize this is very forward of me, but... I thought if I went looking for someone to introduce us," he bubbles, er, babbles, "it would be too late. My name is Lord Welsfey. Would you do me the honour of joining me in this last waltz?"

Viktor has mostly been watching the dancers, when not busy in conversation and when Amy hasn't dragged him to the dance floor. With it being the last waltz though, he finds wherever she's wandered off to and offered his fiancee a hand to guide her to a place there. He's not aiming for a high spot there, and then turns to focus all of his attention on Amethyst.

Merrisol and Maggie are canoodling on the dancefloor already, the idle chitchat fading into quiet anticipation as the chamber orchestra takes it place. There are still a few spots left nearby, and after glancing around, Merrisol helpfully gestures with inclines of his head to indicate those free spaces on the floor around them. The upper reaches are peaceful and empty, to be filled once couples of greater skill rise from the general mob, like cream.

Ruby cups her elbows and rests her arms under the chest. She glowers at the dancers and hinges her jaw from side to side, making muscles on her cheeks pop left and right. Cocking her hips to the side, she directs her weight onto one leg, a bit of nervous energy having her pump her calf muscle into states of rigidity. Any minute now, things are about to happen. The anticipation is starting to get to her.

Approaching Ruby, the dark-haired, green-skinned man pauses. Leaning forward, he begins, "Names Karl Morfilod." Studying her for a moment or two, he allows a smile that flashes pearly-whites briefly. Jerking a thumb toward the dancing area he follows the gesture with a nod, "I'd like to dance with you if you're willing." His accent is softened by time spent in Rebma City but the faint twang that marks him as a border man is there.

Flashing a glance around at the others, Maggie smiles a welcome for Amy and Viktor as they are the first of their contingent to move closer. Anticipation begins to rise, though she keeps still enough to avoid spawning too many premature eddies. A trail of jewel-toned seahorses move over the heads of the dancers, then sink to attach themselves to hair, to bling, and to trailing fabrics. A deep rust fellow settles amid Maggie's hair where he can stare owlishly at Merrisol.

Ruby turns her head towards Karl, and then pivots her body as well. She peers at his face, lifting her chin and looking down her nose in a look that is a tad suspicious, but tinged with a strange curiosity. The fact he's Rebman gives her some pause. Look at all that green skin. Look at that fabulous mustache. She makes a sound in her throat like piano was being moved across a hardwood floor. And then she's nodding her head sharply and a tight grin stretches her mouth. "I be willin. I be willin." She starts to reach for his hand to grab him bodily towards her, and then has a miraculous moment to refrain from such actions. Half-way to him, she stops and unfurls her palm to Mister Morfilod, allowing him to complete the gesture if he's still willing to escort her to the floor.

Within the descending silence, dance partners come together, poised to start. The intro to the number is a tentative three-quarter time signature, a single xylophonic instrument describing the core melody in softly expanding tones, while the strings fold in distantly with extended strains. The dance floor begins to unwind with finery as the couples turn gracefully in step, following the drawn-out beat. The light skipping melody of a water piccolo takes the dance into a delicate, childlike step that allows the dancers to enjoy quicker, playful interactions upon the floor.

The perimeter of the arena comes alive with one hundred glittering fish, plying through the water in a counter-clockwise cycle that encourages skirts and capes to lift and flutter in its wake. Another section of string musicians joins in to build on the theme. Faster, wider, outside partners feel the pull of the current, sweeping them inwards, and then spiriting every dancer along. hose who are so inclined lift off the sea floor entirely as though riding the crescendo itself to their deserved position in the spinning column. The music blooms like a tidal swell when the percussive section rumbles up and flings them all into the fullness of a joyful, triumphant last waltz.

( Reference: "Reflections of Passion" - Yanni - starts at 2:30 --> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YOV2Xv8fq8 )

Karl grins at Ruby's enthusiasm, nodding as she catches the mood of the last waltz. He takes her hand in his, bowing over it just a bit, "Thank you for the honor, miss." Glancing over his shoulder, he kicks from the floor to lead his partner into the column just as the introduction begins. Turning toward his partner, he extends his other hand to rest it at her hip. The swelling music catches his ear and he nods once and they are off.

Viktor's attention is entirely on his dance partner throughout the waltz. He smiles to Amy often, occasionally speaking quietly. It's not hard for the perceptive to see how find he is of her.

Marlene ahs, to the young Lord Welsfey at something as the music comes underway. Very sensible of him to have foregone the extra formalities, as it's the last waltz and all. She's gone for a boldly-lionfish yellow, black and white Rebman gown of rather modest cut and drape, and beams as they take positions and set off into the dance column. Marlene does love dancing.

Ruby gets tugged in with Karl, feeling a little odd being assisted so. She's not sure whether to club him or test his grip with a hard squeeze. Instead, she looks at the other ladies and decides to do the opposite of every first urge or cultural trigger. "Rubah." she says gravelly and then tries to clear her throat in the most clandestine manner possible. She flicks her eyes to her feet and notes perhaps for the first time that she may not step on feet quite so often in this venue as above sealevel. She grins, teeth tightly together and tries not to automatically lead. She listens desperately to the beat.

Karl leads Ruby in a long spiral that begins where they entered the dance column and turns gradually inward in half twists on the downbeat. "Pleasure t'meet you, Ruby. Though if I'm gonna be allowed t' call you by your first name, I'd take it kindly if you'd use mine. Karl's just fine." His voice is a rich, deep rumble that he is clearly keeping in check out of consideration for those nearby. Although his attention does not waver from his partner, he seems fairly well aware of the dancers nearby and keeps them from running into anyone.

Ruby lifts her chin and holds on. Her own hands try and lay upon Karl in a mirror to those that are rotating in and out of sight. If her pressure is a little loose, it's to be cautious in her tense state. "Kawrl." she pips, trying out a minimal approach to verbal discourse. She keeps her eyes tracking from one pupil to the next on her partner, as if trying to decide which one to keep locked on to. "Kawrl." Being directed about, avoiding near collisions and sending her twisting off someplace, she surrenders more of her aggressive tendencies to help. "Me first. Wawwwltz." she chews off the end of the word and hopes her smile does not make her look like an eel poking out of a crevice.

Merrisol grins briefly at Vik and Amy, and looks pleased to see one of his own House has really stepped up and approached the formidable Ruby, teaser of Tritons. Karl. He makes a mental note for future mission recruitment. There's a brisk smile in Marlene's direction as she enters the last spot with a fellow equally bold.. for although she doesn't go baiting Tritons, she /is/ one of the Regent's sisters. Outside observations then sit the back burner as he rests his gaze on Maggie and relies on peripheral cues to maintain a safe distance from the others, even as he vaults with her up to a level occupied by only a few other ballroom vets. With their frames absolutely upright and chins lifted with cerebral finesse, Merri keeps them moving smoothly within their prescribed bracket of personal space, tight twists and spins timed in response to every measure. One thing he cannot quite control through rippling strength or webbed footwear is his smile, now brimming up to his eyes with barely restrained delight in dancing with his wife. The music swells anew, and he pulls her even higher, giving the opportunity to let loose her train of flowing 'fins' while they alone occupy the pinnacle.

Aware of the other dancers in a peripheral sort of way, Maggie draws in a long, slow breath of water. She holds it for a moment then releases it as Merrisol guides them upward into the middle tier. A tight turn or more at that level sets her body flowing with the rhythms. One arm lifts to arch slowly up in a graceful curve as she turns out away and back again, her long braid describing loops behind her. By the time she is beside Merrisol once more, her arm has lowered to rest lightly on his shoulder. Up again they go in a series of increasingly elaborate swoops until they are alone in the top tier. She releases the gauze 'tails' that she has kept careful control of. These trail behind her, adding arabesques and frills to every movement. Much to the delight of a few more jewel-toned seahorses. All the while, her gaze, her attention, remain focused on her husband; the man she loves.

Lord Welsfey, bursting with pride, ambitiously guides his partner up over the heads of those sweeping the floor, and keeps a firm grip on her hand. Pleasepleaseplease don't body slam the Regent's sister or fling her hurtling into the Palace wall, might be read in the excited terror in his eyes. He needn't worry so much, since they are safely ensconced in the column and riding the slipstream generated by the other couples on their level. "You look singularly lovely in stripes, Milady, if I may continue to be so bold," he grins after he calms down and starts enjoying himself. There's something decidedly fishy about that pattern, but what if that's not a deliberate style choice? It could just mean she is accidentally rather odd. No, best not to mention that. He twirls her instead and just admires.

Tilting his head a bit as Ruby speaks, Karl can't stop the delight that fills his eyes and twitches a grin to his mouth, "No kiddin'? I'd never'f guessed." Resting one hand at her hip, he keeps hold of her hand to guide them along. With the one-two-three of the melody in mind he times a turn or two to pull his partner into a tighter turn to avoid another lower tier couple. As they come out of the turn, he leans just a little closer and his voice lowers to a conspiratorial drawl, "Y'all should come out t' the ranch. We'll be hostin' a rodeo in th' Spring. There's always dancin'. Though it ain't generally waltzin'." Judging by the rhythm he puts into the next two or three twists, it might be more similar to a boot-stomp romp.

What, Marlene a rather odd? Well, perhaps it's accident, perhaps she simply didn't have to try hard. She beams. "Why, thank you? I did think it might be an occasion to try a bit of boldness. And yourself, is boldness something you use often, or just on the odd occasion?" She winks. At least the dancing isn't that difficult: She's simply *had* to learn the underwater dancing since she first saw it, and seems to be a quick enough study there.

Ruby starts to release a bit of tension from her shoulders. This Karl fellow is good. "Rawnch?" Again. The less said the better. So far it seems to be working. Uh oh: "Roo-de-oo, aye? Well...I mean...I be rally busy busy. MmmmmmAye? Booot...Uh...Tha so? Tha sounds in-treeg-ing-aling, so it does. Yiiieee-moight?" Slowly but surely, her body loosens up a bit more. Following her partners lead, it still feels very foreign to be escorted about like a fancy lass, but it is becoming more and more enjoyable. And while she does not suddenly blossom from some lumpy chrysalis and leap like a salmon, she does relax enough to start to have more fun with it. Even just being allowed to be moved about has both a wrongness and rightness about it that will require some heavy introspection later. Ruby gives a small girlish /titter/.

For all its grand fanfare, the waltz does not linger or even drag out its stay in the dizzying heights of orchestral excellence. Those couples caught up in the whirlwind have a few dozen measures to swirl and arc, before a dramatic heaviness to the beat leads into an extended pause, signalling the start of denouement. Accordingly, the caretakers of the current change their course and speed, allowing for the gradually sinking of the dancers through the mid-levels and back into the delicate, contained steps upon the polished floor.

In sensing the shift in tempo and tone, Merri leads into a quadruple-spin with a sweep of one leg, drawing Maggie in close so her flowing tails of breezy fabric coil and corkscrew around their bodies; tightly at first, then blooming outwards as the tension releases along with momentum. For that ultra-brief moment of cloaked togetherness, it is rather certain that he took the opportunity to kiss her. He improvises like that. Then it's a simple matter of reining in the gauze as it unwraps, and sinking in back to the floor in that expanding spiral current to find their place upon the floor.

Nodding, Karl leads Ruby in a twist-turn-spin that takes the pair from near the center of the lower tier out toward the edge once more, "Sounds like you ain't been t' a rodeo. Can that be?" He looks around, briefly, as though trying to spot someone to blame for this shocking failure. He'll maybe track down his cousin later for a chat. Looking back, he seems gratified that she is relaxing into the movements. Dancing in water is difficult for the uninitiated. And of course, there is the titter. He beams, for it is just about the most unexpected and adorable thing ever. Of course, that is about when the music hovers into the denouement. Disappointment begins then fades as he is determined to draw as much enjoyment out of the dance as ever he can. The music slows, the currents follow suit and soon enough his feet touch down again, "Thank you for th' dance, Ruby. T'was a real pleasure. A real pleasure indeed."

"Hard to say for certain," hedges Welsfey, after several moments of pure and absorbed dancing, upon learning that his partner was not to be impressed by the standard moves. "There is a duality of character in House Bauquemare, due to its proximity to the edge of the ever-changing waters through Shadow. We are keepers of the public trust, charged with assigning true value to land and tender.. and yet, we are also attracted to chance and uncertainty. A number of my kin have given over to wanderlust.. such as Lord Ruben. He drifts in and out of Rebma on a whim." He realizes he's been jawing a bit and smiles abashedly as he tilts them back down into formation and takes Marlene for the last couple of turns upon the floor in silence.

Maggie follows Merrisol's lead into that ever tightening spin that spirals her outfit's gauzy tails up around them. The fabric weaves ever tighter about them, mingling with bubbles and the darting of sea horses to mask their forms for a precious few seconds. If Merrisol indulged in an impromptu kiss, it is clear that Maggie is not about to complain. It is just possible that the foreign ship's Captain not only encouraged him but participated enthusiastically. Their spin gathered momentum, then released it. The gradual gathering of Maggie's train allows for a slower decent, giving the pair a fraction more time in the relative calm of the higher tier before settling gently to the sea floor below. Eyes shining, Maggie slips her arm about Merrisol's waist for the final few rotations, "Thank you. I do love to dance with you, Kerf."

Ruby blinks and startles a little. She was about to respond when it appeared that things wound down without her noticing. How embarrassing. Her feet feel surface again and she stands there dumbly and awkwardly. A big galoot of a gal suddenly. Dropped back into her more substantially suit of muscle and grizzle. She frowns and releases her grip on him. She's gotta be anywhere but here. Right now. "Pleasure. Truth. Kawrl. I gots tah...ov'ah there..." she quips and gives a ridiculous bow and starts stalking off in a direction.

Karl's smile remains as the pair land, though it fades when she releases him and steps away. Returning her bow, he is caught by surprise when she moves away. Blinking twice, he follows her with his eyes, then surreptitiously lifts a hand to cup the water in front of his mouth. Breathing into it, he tests to be sure that he is not huffing morning breath or stale coffee or something. Nope. Still minty fresh. Looking up and around, he tries to track her by the people moving out of the way, "Hey. Wait. Was it somethin' I said?" Whether he will be able to catch her or not is anyone's guess.

Ruby moves with a gait that sort of promises trampling or other bad consequences if someone happens to get in the way. She half stalks, half kick-drifts, not realizing she could try and navigate above such obstructions. She makes a direct route towards the drinks and nosh, swiping her hand angrily before her, assisting in pulling herself along like she was swimming through thicker curls of current. Her lip even curls when she doggedly comes to a halt in front of the elaborate sippy cups. Looking down her broad nose at the fanciful array of confections, she narrows her eyes. A bit of a electrical current zings from the base of her spine to the sole of her left foot. She starts forward with a jolt of activity and dislodges a corner of a nearby tray. This enrages her further and she looks around, lower lip protruding and head bowed like a top-heavy troll. A specific Triton is nowhere in sight and so she pushes off a little hard against a nearby load-bearing structure and makes for another location.

Gerard is late for the celebration, but as he was fortunate enough to be there for the wedding and the duel that came before it, it is not too much of a loss. He snatches a glass off from a passing servant, nodding as the man departs and advances forward to find the woman and man of the 'last' hour.

"Anytime, Maggie.. anywhere. I'll always dance with you." Merrisol eases into the closeness of those final moments, having quite lost track of the waltz and any trace of poise by the end of it. Now they're just two crazy kids slow-dancing in the midst of a waltz. As the music fades away shortly afterwards, it's not tooo conspicuous. And nobody is really affronted by it, busy as they are applauding the orchestra and one another, then departing the floor in droves. After receiving their kudos, the orchestra members pour out of the bandshell to mob the refreshments and rest on their laurels. Only one Ocarinist lingers, and is joined by a blue-haired Rebman with a water lute, to sit the edge of the platform.

A large Eel on the sidelines animates after a long session of mesmerized staring at the trained fish shoaling 'round and 'round the edges of the dance column. Strobing technicolour rainbow pattern along its silvery sides, it flashes across the dance arena and circles the only two individuals left on the floor. About as glaring a HERE THEY BE sign as one could wish.

"And I with you, Kerf." Eyes focusing on his face, Maggie dances with Merrisol until the last strains of music fade from the waters. Then, perhaps a little more though the gently swaying motion does stop before the orchestra entirely vacates the bandshell. Her hands glide down his arms, the trail of her train falling from her elbow to her wrist in a long slide. With him as her anchor, she remains a bit elevated, toes just brushing the floor. Even though the Eel's approach comes in from behind, those strobing, flashing lights are super hard to ignore so she slowly lowers her gaze to glance around the dance floor. Where they are alone... Er. But for the flickering eel turning round and round them. She tightens her hold on Merrisol, then eases forward enough to stifle laughter against his chest.

Gerard, aided visually, finds the pair on the empty dance floor. Almost too easily, in fact. Still, he does not approach them as he takes a drink from his cup and lingers off the side. Perhaps he has a sense of decorum and timing that few acknowledge. He'll give them exactly one more minute to enjoy themselves. After that, of course, a prince's patience is exhausted.

Merrisol doesn't seem to mind they have been abandoned by their guests.. albeit only in terms of the dance space. His eyes follow the Eel on the second pass, and a few more times after that, after which he grins down into Maggie's hair while she laughs. "We're almost there. Just one more thing, Hotstuff." Something tugs his attention over to the sidelines, though he could not say exactly what. But then, the Begman in him is attuned to clockwork, and there's something about the Prince Admiral's mental timepiece ticking down the seconds that guarantees a glance. "Make that.. two more things," he amends, and lifts a hand in acknowledgement. Once Maggie has seen him too, Merri walks them over while muttering, "...I don't call him Uncle now, do I..?"

One more thing. It sounds like something an Uncle might say. But which? And whose? Possibly one of Maggie's at that. Nodding acknowledgement, Maggie's gaze follows Merrisol's to where Gerard leans. The Admiral is given a warm, welcoming smile as Merrisol leads her on over. Lifting one shoulder, she mutters a reply, "...He'd probably be okay with it, love. But, you should check to be sure." Which makes her reply a solid 'maybe'. Reaching the lean-spot, she extends a hand to Gerard, "Welcome, Uncle. If I neglected to thank you for everything, I am sorry. I've been a touch... distracted." Or a great deal distracted. Her other arm remains looped about Merrisol's waist.

"If ye had thought to keep in touch with me on the days leading up to the honeymoon, I would have questioned ye even more so." Gerard says as he straightens at the approaching duo, "Ye are as beautiful as your mother was, lass, though seeing a dress instead of a tricorn hat strikes me as out of character." At Merrisol, he nods, offering a hand. "I will try not to keep ye two for long."

Merrisol doesn't debate long, and goes with what feel right for him when he takes Gerard's hand for a good firm clasp and shake. "All true, Highness. And thank you," he says, looking upon the man with warm respect. "You did us a great service in Minos.. more than we bargained for, in the end. Did you..." Nah, he won't ask just how much the Prince knew about a certain scheme, by a certain person who shall remain nameless - because Merri still isn't sure who it was. "I owe you a debt, Sir."

Maggie moves with Merrisol until the last few steps. Letting him take the lead, she waits until the handshake has been parted before stepping up to Gerard. Kicking off of the sea floor, she floats up to give Gerard a hug and a kiss on his cheek, "Thank you, Uncle." The dress comment sparks faint laughter and a touch of a blush. Fading back to Merrisol's side, her feet touch the sea floor again just when she arrives, "The musicians are taking a break. I think there is dancing still, if you wish to stay." Though really, there is a duo up on the bandshell, yet. A blue-haired Rebman fellow with one of the Ocarinists from the orchestra.

"You're welcome," Gerard rumbles after the embrace, "Pay no mind to debts. As I understand it, ye and Maggie have been proactive in seeking resolution with shadows from Minos and Kitezh." He runs his fingertips over his palms as he thinks, "Could I be briefed on the subject of Minos?"

Merrisol listens, then nods briskly as his and Maggie's efforts in the Golden Circle are acknowledged. A lot nicer than Martin's phrasing that they had been making a nuisance of themselves in Minos... even if Martin /had/ been dramatizing his role. "Last dance," he starts to clarify, "but after..." He straightens up attentively as Gerard makes his query. "Of course... ah," he frowns. "Which subject..? My feud with Captain Flame there..? Or the situation with the storm walls around Minos and engulfing two of her islands?"

Gerard's phrasing is nicer than Martin's and he wins a warm smile for that courtesy. Tilting her head inquisitively, she nods to Merrisol's question but adds a quieter, "Or all of the above?" Slipping her arm back around Merrisol's waist, she adds, "We have not gotten to do much with the Shadowpath there, but it is on the list of things to look into." A memory flits behind her eyes, though it only stays long enough to tease without leaving any lasting impression. Shaking her head, she refocuses on her uncle to await his decision.

"We will discuss the feud that led to your marriage another night," Gerard says flatly. "I just wished to be a indulged on what your own investigations into the storms have earned ye. I might be allocating resources for assistance."


​~ ~ ~ ~ ~


The last waltz of the celebration had come to a poignant end, and the dancers departed the floor, some more precipitously than others. The well-applauded chamber orchestra of fifty-ish musicians filed out of the bandshell afterwards to enjoy drinks at the bar, while the ramblin' bard, Eladyes, took their place with a single Ocarinist persuaded to stay behind for an intimate performance. Word is he had secured the privilege of closing out the reception with the final dance featuring the newlyweds. It is delayed only briefly by the arrival of Admiral Gerard to have a word with the two Captains he'd only recently wed. After the Prince has ambled off to somehow blend in with the commoners again, Merrisol looks at Maggie with quiet amusement. Another task for the To-Do-Before-Honeymoon List.. sort of like a Honey-Do List, minus the mooning.

Where there was only the ambient hum of voices and laughter through the water, there is now music, having crept in stealthily to pervade the area. A water lute is a curious stringed instrument without a full acoustic enclosure that, when angled a certain way in the current, finely controls the tone and dynamics of the sounds produced. It takes skilled hands and a truly Rebman understanding with the Sea to elevate underwater sound conduction to such an artform as has now been made evident. Elad lays down understated broken chords while the Ocarinist plies the area with gentle notes in the upper octaves, reserved just for lead-ins and melodic accents.

"Come on, Missus Kerfuffle, let's put a bow on this while the taps are still running," Merrisol entreats with his hands going out to Maggie's. Once she accepts, he steps backwards into long glide to return to the center of the floor. With no others currently in the arena, she is free to let loose her long gossamer fins once more; the flash and glimmer of creatures signaled back into motion closes in around the couple and unfurls their respective train and cape outwards and upwards like phantom wings.

Marlene is on the arm of a Bauquemare lord, then, saying, "Oh, well, that's quite interesting, really. Of course, I've not seen beyond the city, myself. A drink, then?"

Lord Welsfey is entirely willing to remain in Marlene's company, and uses his mysterious Bauquemare ways to part the crowd of musicianry around the catered bar, so he can request a couple of unusual cocktails for them to sample: luminous clear liquid with what looks to be jellied cranberries swirling about within, like the interior of a lava lamp. "And you, milady? What sort of duties occupy the daughter of the King of Amber?" he inquires, truly curious. Knowing some of what the other two known Randomspawns get up to, and all.

Marlene smiles as she says with a vagueness that might be canny or self-deprecating, "Oh, I get about, this and that, and all. Actually I do a bit for the Ladies'Auxiliary that's been keeping me busy just lately, ..making something of the harbour reconstructions, that is. "

Maggie watches Gerard wander off to mingle with the crowd after giving the pair another thing to add to their list of things to do. Looking up at her new husband, Maggie can't stifle a twinkle and half shrug. What is this? Three things? Four? Eight? Her amusement does not find voice, however for music begins and spreads through the water. Turning to glance back toward the bandshell, she smiles at Elad and the Ocarinist. Notes float and weave as they travel through the currents, each taking advantage of the ebb and flow that leads to the audience.

Looking back as Merrisol addresses her, Maggie reaches forward to take his hands, "I would love to, Professor Kerfuffle." Now, her laughter sounds in her voice, sparkles in her eyes. Pushing from the sea floor, she lets him pull her as he glides back into the dance column. As they enter the otherwise empty space, she releases her train so that it can float and flutter out behind her to accent the movement of the dancers.

The chord-work takes on a sense of greater purpose as Maggie and Merrisol settle into the closeness of a slow dance, and plucks up to a single hanging note before the first stanza begins. The strength of the song lies in the vocal performance, and Elad's voice is seasoned and nuanced, demonstrating a greater range than what he uses for his risque little bar songs. Gently it goes:

"I wanna laugh, until I cry / Wake up with you each day 'til the day I die / From Rebma to Minos, a Sea promenade / We'll pose for some pictures, an' eat Jambalaya, an' drink Lemonade / An' when the day is finally over, an' we stumble home / Before we sleep - Baby, Marry Me.."

Merrisol's smile is kind of shy upon hearing the lyrics phrased, personalized details and sentiments so casually composed into song, he just might be guilty of supplying Elad with crib notes. As Merri himself can't sing in key to save his life, it would be a wise move in this instance. Dance - that, he can do, with preternatural instinct underwater that reminds those who haven't been paying attention that despite appearances, the blond-haired, tan-skinned man is a Rebman, and perhaps more than just partially. There is none of the prescribed framing of the previous waltz in the way he partners Maggie in flowing maneuvers that never repeat a step; rather, there is intimate familiarity and trust in their workings together that gives every lift and follow-through a satisfying sense of hearts and hands becoming one. In fact, there is never a moment when they are out of contact, even if it is just Maggie's glorious outfit twining around his arm until they come together again for a gyroscopic moment that leads into the next graceful extension.

Centering with Merrisol as the song begins, Maggie is ready to dance with him. The lyrics, delivered in that richly melodic voice catch her by surprise. Emerald eyes widen and she whips a glance at the singer, then back to her love. Wonder fills her eyes, her smile holding more than delight as she faces Merrisol once more. As the first section ends, those three words sung, she answers as though her partner were asking, for he is by proxy. Her words are soft, the tone intimate, "Yes. With all my heart, yes." Still, with the currents the way they are, her words might carry to others.

Moving with Merrisol, Maggie whirls, her long braid sailing out behind her with every turn. Long and gossamer, her train describes arches that curl and flutter around both dancers. Touches linger with every move, fingers gliding, lifting only when contact is made again. Her eyes remain on his until a turn forces her to look away. The gaze returns in an instant as she returns to face him.

Welsfey is quiet while he absorbs Marlene's reply, attention straying to the dance for several measures, and thereafter keeping his volume respectfully low. "The Amber Harbor, I have heard there is one again, and the ship traffic passing above the ERC.. East Rebman Current.. is proof of that. Meanwhile, the ERC carries away the small debris that settled the bottom of the bay. It has seeded the undersea territory with strange and lucrative finds," he smiles

Marlene ahs, tilting her head. "Indeed, well, that might indeed be something. I hadn't given much thought to salvage and such, apart from certain materials for reconstruction, whatnot? What manner of things have you found, then, I wonder?"

Miriam has been here and there, talking to people and enjoying the party. Currently, though, she's enjoying a drink and watching the pair dance. There's a smile on her face that shows very well how happy she is for her friends.

Merrisol draws in a filling breath and holds it, beaming boyish adoration, as Maggie's vocalized response to the prompt in the lyrics takes him somewhat by surprise, but only somewhat. It's not like he had a chance to even propose to his now bride. Throughout, they have done things topsy-turvy and bass-ackwards.. why stop now if they're having fun? He lifts her high and kicks up to follow in an inversion, sliding up beyond her with his toes leading straight up, slowing, stretching right out until the tips of their fingers are caressing the others' palms. Up, up, and..

"I wanna dive, 'til we get lost / Rise to the waves an' stare up at the sky, while you point out the Southern Cross / An' somehow I know, without askin' why / That you'll love me more in a minute, than anyone could in a lifetime / Dancin' in the Parlor, while the band plays outside / Sweep you off your feet - Baby, Marry Me.."

Eel shimmies in past the outer column of fish, and darts past Merri's legs, but this time it doesn't go tripping the man up. Instead, the technicolour critter loops back and swoops down and away. Merri catches Maggie's hand and enters the swift wake to deftly right himself, taking her across his shoulders and arms to bend into a floating arc that is all lithe limbs and graceful lines. The cyclical draft picks up the edges of her train and flickers reflective light through it from the glittering swarm of fishy helpers.

"We don't need no Priestess preachin' from the Good Book / And you don't need no fancy dress / Ain't no ceremony for the vows that we took / From the moment I met ya, I have been blessed.."

Oh Leery Lir, Eladyes, you just had to take a nip at the Cult, didn't you? Trouble-maker. Straight-faced however, the bard continues into his last verse with the same tenderness as he applied to the ones that came before.

Maggie blushes a bit at Merrisol's smile, but soon her smile answers his. Perhaps it just hit her that they are still in public for her glance turns just a bit shy for a moment or two before she puts them all out of her mind, focusing on her new husband entirely. Lifted, she looks down at him, her arms rising out and up in a swoop that traces the lines of his form as he kicks higher and angles into an inversion. Her eyes lift, her head tilts back and she turns in a slow spin that matches his. The touch of her fingers reaching up to gently touch his palms holds her there while one leg bends a bit to prepare fot the next movement.

Though Elad's song swirls around her, taking words her heart calls and weaving them into magic, her eyes never leave Merrisol's and her smile remains gentle, the expression striving to convey what words can not.

Colorful shimmers from Eel and the fishies lend her hair, her skin and the fluttering gossamer of her train a measure of fairytale richness that is echoed in the water around them. Lifted by Merrisol's touch, Maggie kicks her leg back down, straightening her body as he realigns. She glides across his shoulders, one hand held in his while the other lifts in a graceful arch that accentuates the upper curve of the movement. White, tan, gold and rich coppery brown, her train drags and flutters through the movements, taking up and refracting ambient color.

Welsfey doesn't appear to have any qualms about talking about the sort of unattended loot up for grabs around the territory, wherever the Sea's whim has flung it down. Carvings, toys, collectibles, lightweight crates of miscellany, fabrics, jewelry often still attached to partial human remains, and coin, wadges of loose coin. "The best stuff, however, was already sorted out by salvagers down in the bay itself, within a week of the happening above. As a matter of fact, the good Warden," he headtilts to indicate Merrisol, "found some fine art of an Amber smith or some such, in the Bauquemare collection, and summarily reallocated the pieces to his ship. Went around to all the ancestral Houses and did the same to them." He frowns discontentedly for a moment, then shrugs. Easy come, easy go?

Marlene ahs, brightening a bit to Welsfey, hefting a beverage in salute, there "Oh, did he? I believe I know something of the particular matter of said art, the loss of which might be counted an estimable tragedy even among the graver circumstances. I'm quite sure there might be some expression of appreciation for their return, really. It's something I'd thought I might make inquiries about, though I hadn't much hope, there." Well, at least he gets a smile from the lady for his pains.

"So let's make a toast, an' drink up the wine / Here's to you lyin' here next to me, until the end of time / Wherever you are, I wanna be / And anythin' that means anythin' to you, means everythin' to me / Slippin' out to Shadow, while they're throwin' the rice / An' they'll talk for weeks, but we're all we need / So Baby, if you're free - Marry Me.."

Caught up in the meaning and effect of both the song lyrics and her evocative grace, Merrisol looks utterly absorbed with his partner.. nakedly entranced, as it were. His dancing becomes less artful and more direct, closing with Maggie while they descend through billows of gauze, falling slowly, with their hair and accessories trailing. Touching down first, he catches Maggie into a bridal carry, and absorbs the rest of the downward momentum in a sweeping rotation that keeps her train spiraling outwards until the ending notes of the water lute and ocarina are also marked by the end of the supportive currents. Merri gives in to impulse and encouragement, and dips his lady into a kiss while the veils fall across his shoulder, framing her in his arms.

"Marry Me.."

Moving in and out of Merrisol's arms, Maggie swoops and swirls as bidden, hair and train following. As the style of the dance shifts, she welcomes him into more intimate closeness. Floating slowly downward as they descend, she keeps her own movements, her touches, gentler. The lyrics echo within, expressing so much that she had not yet put into coherent words. She does not really notice when he settles on the seabed. Caught up in his arms, she circles him with her arms as he dips her into that kiss. She returns it, eyes half closing. There is no courtyard, no audience, no flashing, flickering Eel. There is only him, her and the lingering, fading music.

Elad and Ocarinist end on a final weighty arpeggio that takes several beats to slip away, although the applause of the gathered attendees starts up before their escape can be noticed.

( Reference: "Marry Me" - Amanda Marshall - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p0W2emYIt8E )

Lord Welsfey looks thoughtful. "I suppose for the sake of peaceful relations, a petition from an authority such as yourself, Lady Marlene, would have turned the wheels sufficiently down here to see the return of found items in a... properly sanctioned capacity," he muses, showing a definite penchant for bureaucratic foo in his wording. "But then... the Regent's Left Hand does favour expediency," he adds wryly, then looks up to see the Last Dance coming to a close, and takes up with the rest of the guests, hurrahing like he means it.

Marlene nods, "I suppose one might understand if there was some cause for haste, with all that..." She applauds with a sincere smile, if not immense volume, as the dance comes to a close.

The young Lord Bauquemare side-eyes Marlene while she's busy applauding. "I think he just does it that way because he can," he side-mouths, too. He sips his drink and catches a sweet-sour accent, shivering in reaction. "Well.. I must say it was a delight making your acquaintance, and having the privilege of dancing the last waltz with you, milady. The Tide did take my gamble and came back with reward," he smiles, and bows to Marlene respectfully, so as to take his leave of her.

Marlene inclines her head graciously, then. "Lovely to meet you, then, Lord Welsfey."

Last Dance? Is done! Last Call accordingly pulls the majority of guests back to the bar for a last toast and quaff. Merrisol manages to nod appreciation to Elad and the Ocarinist, and tip a wave to various friends and relations, before he strides away across the courtyard to the East Wing, carrying Maggie along with him. Getting gone while the going is good!


OOC> Merrisol says, "And the reception is officially done, but there is still a whole street festival to play with in similar manner. Free food and drink samples! Wares! Cultural displays and performances! Whale Rodeo!"
OOC> Merrisol says, "Giant turtle shell on the outskirts!"
OOC> Merrisol says, "Undine Partay~"