Turning back to his father and aunt, Vere takes a step towards them, merely to remind them that he is there, and says, "Father, Aunt Florimel, I must be about the business of gathering and distributing supplies. Should I return here when I can, or would it be better to leave the two of you alone for a while? I am certain there is much that you need to discuss, and I have no desire to intrude."
"Come back when ye can, and find yer cousin Lucas. He's overdue for a reunion with his mother," says Gerard.
Flora looks up and says, "Oh, yes, please, send Lucas! I've missed him so much," and boo-hoos a little more. It's amazing how crying doesn't seem to make her red-faced and runny-nosed the way it does so many women; it almost enhances her delicate beauty to see it sad, soft, and vulnerable.
Vere nods to both of them, and leaves. He stops the first servant he finds, and orders a message taken to the King, notifying him that the Princess Florimel has returned to the Castle, that other members of the Family and some wounded troops have arrived at Arden, and that the King should expect a report from Heather Vale in the immediate future. The servant is then to locate Lord Lucas and inform him of the location of his mother, and her request that Lucas go to her as soon as possible.
Vere then sees about the arrangements for the supplies that Paige had requested, and checks to be sure that everything on the Amber end is proceeding according to plan. Assuming no unexpected surprises, and that the orderly transfer of supplies is continuing, he will send messengers to M and Sir Archer, informing them that the Return has begun, and requesting reports on the situation in the City.
Vere expects return reports later in the day.
Vere will then visit the King briefly to see if he has any specific orders or questions about what is occurring.
Random wants to know which members of the family are in Arden.
Vere tilts his head slightly to one side and regards Random silently for a second before replying, "I do not have full information upon that matter, Your Majesty. I was under the impression that you were to be contacted directly by one of the Family members at Heather Vale via Trump contact, but the situation there may be too busy for an immediate report. Of Your Majesty's siblings I can only say that someone whom Ossian believes to be Prince Caine arrived carrying a wounded man, and of course Princess Florimel is in the Castle. There are a small number of wounded from the army, my impression is that only the most seriously wounded have been sent through. Either that, or the battle was amazingly light in casualties." Vere pauses before continuing, "My apologies, Your Majesty, but your phrasing was slightly unclear. Did you also wish a report on which of the younger members of the Family from the Castle are in Arden? I believe you already have that information, but I will of course repeat it if I misunderstood your request."
"You officially have the job of 'guy who talks while the guitar player replaces a broken string'. Nobody else needs to apply. I will try to be more clear, although you certainly answered any question I did have." Random is grinning. "I hope to remain clear-headed enough to remember who I send out to play in the zillion acre woods at least until tea-time. What I wanted to know was who their new playmates were."
"As to casualties, most were either fatal or ambulatory. At a guess, Caine is with Marius, who was wounded. He's Deirdre's son. I hope he hasn't taken a turn for the worse. As a family we're remarkably healthy. Either we get better on our own or we don't"
Random seems somewhat flustered now, and is speaking more quickly. "It sounds as if everything is under control and you're doing an excellent job. Pray, continue and let me know if there is anything else they need out there."
Vere observes this without a change of expression. As he bows and says, "Then by Your Majesty's leave, I shall depart," he considers whether the change in Random's demeanour is similar to what one might expect from someone who is being contacted via Trump, and attempting to cover it and urge the person he's talking with to leave his presence....
Finally, he will return to the Castle functionaries who are directly in charge of the distribution of supplies for another check of how things are progressing.
Everything is progressing well, as it ought to be.
Vere briefly indulges himself in the exquisite pleasure of a plan working properly before turning his attention to ways to further streamline the process and increase its efficiency.
Once he decides that he has reached the point of diminishing returns, and further tinkering will likely result in confusion and decrease efficiency Vere will leave instructions that he will be in his father's study, and is to be notified of anything that requires his attention.
Folly steps out of the tent and into the sunshine of the Vale, taking just a moment to sling her mandolin back over her shoulder as her eyes adjust to the brightness.
Then she scans the area in search of her cousin. "Aisling?"
You don't see her. You see a woman with hair like Marmalade disappearing into the mess tent. Shortly thereafter a number of Rangers come out, looking for the fire.
"Fire's out," Folly says when she figures out what the grim looks on their faces mean, "but we're going to need some fresh supplies. You might want to check with Brita and her brother to see what they need. They're both in there." She indicates the damaged tent.
"And, um, have any of you seen my cousin Aisling in the last few minutes? She came in with the wounded, but she slipped out of the tent a few minutes ago and I'm not sure where she's gotten off to."
"I -think- she was the one who told us about the fire," says one of the Rangers in the manner of someone doubting his observations, gesturing back towards the tent. He adds further, "She was looking pretty torn up..."
Folly nods, looking just a bit puzzled for an instant as she tries to reconcile what she thinks she saw with what she's just been told. "Thanks," she says to the Ranger, then heads toward the mess tent.
She enters cautiously, not wanting to barge in if Aisling feels the need to be alone for a while.
"...with some food and rest," Ce'e is saying tentatively, and Aisling, putting down some food in front of him, twitches at Folly's entrance to the otherwise-empty tent, even before she's said anything.
Again, Folly says softly, and in a questioning tone, "Aisling?"
It's definitely Aisling... Just some strange, fully-human version of Aisling, her hair and eyebrows and such gingery-colored, though her eyes are still violet. Still in the same black outfit but, wait, no accomodation in it for the missing streamers.
Folly takes in the changes and responds as she might to an unexpected but skillful key change: with interest, delight, and what might be amusement if it weren't presently overshadowed by concern.
Aisling is still white and tear-streaked. "Ah. Folly." she says in polite neutrality, and it's neutral because she's kinda shocky and not really in command of whatever various feelings she has on the subject. She sets down the provender she was carrying for herself, and nervously smoothes a lavender scarf (the color of her hair) lying on the table.
"Hi," Folly says, "sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure you were OK. That was, uh, kind of intense back there."
She hesitates, then seems to come to some sort of decision, and comes over to sit across the table from Aisling and Ce'e. Reaching into a pocket of her jacket, she produces a fist-sized object wrapped in a napkin, which turns out to be a muffin. It smells of cinnamon; its slightly crushed state suggests it was swiped from this morning's breakfast rather than produced with Pattern powers.
Folly spreads the napkin on the table and begins breaking the muffin into small pieces upon it. "Want some?" she asks, popping a piece into her mouth.
Aisling looks amused. She can't help it, her thoughts run, "And what did you do today, Folly?" "I went down to the park and fed bits of bread to the Chaosites!" With her and Ce'e running around at Folly's feet making "wonk" noises. The dragons would appreciate this.
She appreciates it. It was very much a good move. She sits down warily across from Folly, sweeping the scarf away into her lap, and warmth appears for a moment in her smile as she takes a piece. "Thank you." A tilt of her hand to the pile of stuff in front of her, mainly the meat that Solange mentioned, "Um, if you'd like, you can have any of this--though it's yours anyway..."
"Ours," Folly corrects, and smiles. "You're one of us, you know. I can see it in your eyes -- how happy you are to be home."
There's a moment of confusion in Aisling's eyes ("home?"), then a "well, yeah..." kind of expression.
Folly takes a small piece of meat and nibbles at it, as much out of solidarity as hunger.
Another good move. Aisling relaxes a tiny bit, and makes sure to quickly take some meat herself and eat it to demonstrate lack of poison.
"Had you spent any time in Amber before the war?" Folly asks.
(It is, as far as Aisling can tell, a perfectly innocent, friendly question.)
Aisling chews to buy time. Even after she swallows she spends some time looking at her hands, kind of brushing her finger against her thumb on the hand where she has fingers. Then she looks up at Folly with her eyes, hand moving to rest on the edge of her plate, "Um, yeah. I was... actually sent to spy on you Amberites. I'd been in Amber for nearly six years before the last battle."
Now it's Folly's turn to pause. Her eyes widen in surprise at the revelation, followed immediately by a furrowing of brow as she works some things out. From the look on her face, she find the results more interesting and amusing than disturbing, though there's certainly a little of the latter as well.
Aisling may sense, though, that Folly still isn't disturbed by her, exactly.
After a moment, Folly smiles and replies, "That means we've spent about the same amount of time in Amber, since I showed up here about five and a half years ago -- probably right after you left." She chuckles quietly and adds, "We're quite the tag team, aren't we? The Law of Conservation of Purple. Although I'm guessing you weren't quite as purple then."
She pauses again, then asks, "What made you decide to stay?"
Aisling lines up her thoughts for a breath or two, not terribly sucessfully, and then starts with, "The Amberites. They just have this... decency about them. They don't treat their subordinates as just extensions of their power--they seem to actually care about them as beings. And they treat each other well, too... It was always a pleasure to be listening when two Amberites met up, and exchanged news about their relatives as if they actually cared. And they went to the most curious lengths to avoid killing each other..."
Folly listens, fascinated, trying to imagine what Aisling's life in Chaos must've been like if these are the things that impressed her by contrast.
Aisling drifts off into a reminiscing smile for a moment, and then realizes that she has with a shock (really, she shouldn't be talking so much until she's gotten a grip again), and hares off down another path, "Oh, it must have been a great weight off Gerard's mind when he learned that Caine wasn't actually dead. How long has it been since Random returned to you?"
Something about the question makes Folly's cheeks go a little pink. "Six days," she says, "but they've all been kind of a blur, what with trying to figure out how to bring an entire army home from the other side of the universe. I think for a lot of us, the news is still sinking in that --" she counts off on her fingers "-- we've won the war; we've got a new king, and not one that anyone seemed to be expecting; Caine's not dead, but Deirdre and Brand are; and we get to add a half-dozen new scions of the line to the list.... It blows my mind, and I don't even know most of the people involved." She gives Aisling a little half-smile and takes another piece of muffin. "It's been a hell of a week."
Aisling smiles, swallows. "You too, eh?" she says with a twist of a grin. "But it strikes me that I've been terribly rude, blathering on about myself..." she jokes, to change the focus. "Tell me, what were you before you came to Amber? Rebman?" she guesses, looking at Folly's hair. "What have you been doing since? Talk my ear off, if you like; this is quite a shock and I want to know -everything-..." She glances down at the food in hopes that she'll have a long uninterrupted time in which to demolish it.
Folly's smile brightens, for Aisling has -- probably without realizing it -- appealed to her Entertainer aspect. Now she can have fun and be useful at the same time. She takes just a moment to consider the arc and rhythm of the story she wants to weave, then begins:
"No, I'm not Rebman -- I'm purple by choice. I grew up by the sea, though, far away from here -- but not as far as you, of course -- where no one knows of Amber or the Golden Circle, in a beautiful place full of sunshine and electronics and burritos, where the ocean is warm enough to swim in almost the entire year and the breezes smell of salt and oranges and coffee and diesel. And waffles, if you know where to stand."
Aisling doesn't know what some of this stuff is, but she definitely appreciates the skill that goes into crafting the setting, smiling and relaxing into the flow of a story well-told...
"And I was a musician. My friends and I had a band, the best band in the world, and we'd drive to interesting places and sleep in rooms with awful carpet and lumpy beds -- not that that made them so different from the places we lived, of course -- all for the thrill of blowing people's minds in a little smoky room for a couple of hours. It was fantastic -- it's what I was born to do."
Folly's smile is bright as a sunrise, and her eyes sparkle at the memories.
"But then one night, I was doing my thing at my regular gig, when this beautiful man -- beautiful smile, beautiful hands -- walks into the pub and buys me a beer. So of course I did what any sensible girl would do -- I started flirting with him."
Aisling squashes a chuckle.
"And I thought he was flirting back, too, at first, but then he started spinning this incredible story....
"He said his name was Martin, of Amber, and that I was of Amber, too, even though I'd never been there. He said his grandfather had sent him to bring me home to this place that wasn't my home, RIGHT NOW, because, oh, yeah, the world's about to end.
"And I believed him. Or, at least, I figured that even if he was lying or insane, I'd get a really good song out of it."
[Aisling is] nodding in complete understanding.
"So away we went, through the looking-glass -- which looked a lot like a playing card, which looked a lot like Cousin Paige -- and ended up in Amber just a few hours before the earthquake.
"The earthquake. The Sundering. It awakened us all in the middle of the night, and we -- I and my family I'd never met before -- spent the day putting out fires and surveying the extent of the damage. Unfortunately, the damage included one wing of the castle -- and Gerard, who was under it at the time. I'm not sure I've ever met another man who could've survived it, but he did. Still, he was pretty badly beat up, and not strong enough to get better AND perform all his duties as Regent.
Here Aisling looks kind of sick. At least, subdued.
"So we, the Youngers, got together and formed a Council to aid and advise the Regent in his duties, and that's what I've been doing ever since -- talking with Ambassadors, debating the pros and cons of usury laws, figuring out how to boost the economy, and trying really really hard not to fuck it all up. Strange change of pace, really, for one accustomed to railing against The Man, y'know?"
Answering smile.
Folly pauses, notes that Aisling is still eating, and stares off into space for just a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing on a more philosophical bent:
"But you're right about the people here. They're why I stay, too. Amber, the place, doesn't yet feel like home to me, and maybe it never will -- but the Amberites, the people, do feel like home to me. I don't always agree with them, nor they with each other, but so far there's been a real commitment to trying to work together for the greater good, perhaps even more than the generation before us did. It's a good feeling.
"And as a bonus, Martin's not the only other musician in the family. We all get together regularly, whoever's in town at the time, for a family jam session -- to which you're totally invited, by the way --"
Aisling's been looking pretty happy at the news that Folly thinks she isn't totally full of it, and she's kinda thoughtful and yet interested at this.
"-- so I haven't had to give my music up completely. I'm hoping the return of the Elders may free up even more of my schedule for music. We'll see."
She pauses again and takes another bit of muffin.
"So, hey, I should probably give you a rundown of all these new relatives you've just met or are about to meet. Which ones did you already know?"
Aisling swallows hastily. (She has been disposing of food at an astonishing rate, pretty much as fast as is possible while still observing the niceties of utensils, chewing, manners, etc. Though on the other hand, since she doesn't have one, she's not really going to the trouble of cutting the meat.) She clears her throat and spreads her left hand on the table to tic Youngers off... "Jerod and Cambina, I of course knew. Martin, I'd heard of but never seen--he was away in Shadow. Paige, I'd watched a bit as a brothel-keeper. Solange was whisked away before I got a chance to know her... Vere was a total surprise. Robin, I'd watched a bit. Conner, I knew of, though not as a member of the royalty. Reid, Ossian, Brita, and you are also total surprises. Lucas... Is that the same Lucas who was a rich playboy? He has kids?" Aisling prepares to be somewhat surprised, though not absolutely so... After all, people do have a tendency to do the unexpected.
Folly grins. "Yes, Lucas is a rich playboy. Turns out he's Flora's son, although I guess they managed to hide that fact from everyone 'til recently. And yes, he has kids. He married Solace Vesper a couple years back, and some smaller-than-usual number of months later they had a daughter, Hope, who is sweet and adorable and fun."
Ok, Aisling looks surprised, but not terribly so. She also looks amused at the "smaller-than-usual" comment.
"Their son Philippe was born just a few months ago. Philippe's sweet, too, but he's not old enough to have much of a personality yet. Lucas himself is pretty entertaining, as you probably know if you've spent any time around him. He likes to give the impression of being a supreme layabout, but he's a good guy to have on your side. He's done some excellent negotiating on his trading voyages."
Aisling heads off to get another plateful, making sure that Folly knows by her body languge that she wants her to continue meanwhile.
"Let's see.... You've met Brita now, and you may have caught a glimpse of Reid when you came through Ygg -- he would've been the one with longish brown hair and dark eyes who wasn't Martin or Jerod. Reid and Brita didn't actually show up in Amber 'til well after I got here. Reid had apparently been away from Amber for longer than some of the Elders have even been alive. I'm not sure if anyone but Fiona even knew he existed -- I mean, everyone just about pees their pants when they find out he's Osric's son. Reid is a musician and an artist, and he's been Brita's tutor since she was a wee thing, I think -- well, if Brita ever actually was a wee thing. I think she's descended from gods and giants on her father's side. She's working with the Rangers now, as you probably noticed, and it suits her.
"Ossian, the one with the sketchbook -- he showed up in Amber at about the same time I did; and, like me, he doesn't actually know how he's related to the Amberites, only that he is, somehow. He had rather a rougher time getting accepted than I did, though, in part because I had Martin vouching for my identity and in part because Ossian was once a pupil of Brand, and that makes a lot of people really nervous, as you might imagine. He's a really fantastic artist, and a lot of fun to hang out with -- if you're into hanging out with artists."
Folly silently ticks off cousins on her fingers. "So of the ones you hadn't ever heard of, that leaves Vere. He's Gerard's son, but quite unlike Gerard -- he's quite bookish, and... not shy, exactly, but quiet and reserved. Repressed, maybe. He'd rather listen than speak, usually, although when he speaks, it's usually worth listening. He will probably find you quite fascinating." She grins.
Folly glances down to see how Aisling is doing on her meal. She's obviously taking her job of talking Aisling's ear off while she eats very seriously.
Folly's never seen Corwin at a meal, so this is probably one of the most impressive feats of eating she's ever watched... Where is Aisling putting it all? It's like she's planning to hibernate for a year. On the plus side, though, she is gradually getting less pale.
(Folly's never seen Corwin eat, no, but she has seen Martin eat. She notes the similarities with amusement.)
And she's getting less tense, too. Her body language is opening up, she's listening intently, and she's obviously thoroughly enjoying Folly's talking. If Folly seems like she's still happy to go on, Aisling will ask, "What is your impression of the ones I barely got to meet... Martin, Paige, Solange, Robin, and Conner?"
Folly is indeed happy to continue. She seems to be thoroughly enjoying the storytelling, even moreso now that Aisling is starting to relax.
"Well.... Conner and Robin also didn't show up in Amber 'til well after I got here -- barely a year ago, if I remember correctly." She pauses, then nods, "Yes, it was definitely after the Spring Festival. Conner had been stuck in Rebma with the diplomatic corps since the Sundering -- the stairway to Rebma has been out of commission since then, so there hasn't been much coming and going. Conner's pretty cool for a diplomat -- I mean, he's still kind of got that political sheen, y'know, but he's really a scientist at heart, which I find easier to relate to.
"Robin had been exploring the Black Road. She didn't make it back to Amber 'til Martin and Brita went looking for a Ranger patrol that had gone missing and wound up finding her, too. She's an interesting character. She's gone out to the pub with me on several occasions, and I like her a lot -- but she sometimes gives the impression that she's... elsewhere. Like she'd really rather be hiding under a rock waiting to jump on something.
"Then there's Solange, who was probably off at university most of the time you were here, majoring in Business. As you might imagine, she's incredibly level-headed. So is her brother Vere, come to think of it, but in a really different way -- like, Vere is level-headed in the sense of not letting his emotions interfere with his analysis of the possibilities, whereas Solange is more inclined not to let the possibilities interfere with her analysis of what is. She's a nice counterbalance to those of us who would play 'what if' 'til we can't remember where we started.
"Paige...." Folly smiles warmly at the name. "If you've spent time watching her, then you know she can be somewhat... aggressively friendly. God only knows what she's up to with Naked Spazz Boy back there."
Aisling looks faintly disturbed at the thought, O water-woman.
Folly smirks and shakes her head, then grows more serious as she continues, "But she's got a heart as big as the ocean, and she's been a true and constant friend to me since I got here.
"And so has Martin." Folly smiles again, and the affection in her voice would be obvious to anyone. "He watches my back, he puts up with me, he keeps me sane. He's a good guy. And a guitarist -- did I mention that part?"
Folly pauses, clears her throat, and says, "Wow, I do go on, don't I? I think I need some water." She rises, but she obviously intends to come right back. "Can I get you anything else while I'm up? Bread? Wine? Side of beef?" Her eyes twinkle with merriment.
"I checked. You don't have any sides of beef," Aisling says, with a tentative little smile.
Folly laughs, a bubbling, musical sound, like water over smooth stones.
Aisling's smile turns into a full-on beam. And my, she does have a warming beam.
"We'll have to work on that, then," Folly says. "After all, we're supposed to be feeding an army. I guess it's a good thing the whole army isn't made of us, eh?"
"To be perfectly honest, I didn't look real hard," Aisling admits, still beaming.
When Folly returns to the table, she's bearing another helping of meat and bread and three mugs of water, balanced somewhat precariously.
Psychic! The woman is psychic! Aisling knew she picked the right side.
Folly waits 'til everything is safely on the table before she asks, "Are you going to feel up to sticking around here once you've eaten? I know you must be exhausted."
Aisling looks mirthful at this.
"We can find you a spare cot to rest on if you want to stick around, or if not, we can try to find someone to Trump you up to the castle. There should be a room already prepared for you there."
Aisling rests her hand in front of her mouth thoughtfully. "I think I had a reasonable night's sleep just a short while ago..." Then she gives a 'no matter' shrug. "Either way, I should be good for a long time yet, now that I actually have something to replace all the energy I've been spiralling off wildly," she waves to the food.
Folly looks pleased, both that Aisling is feeling better and that she won't have to go away immediately.
"As for sticking around... I have poured enough pain into getting the army here that I'd like to make sure they make it to their homes. But then again, that will take awhile. But then, someone needs to tell the tale of the Last Battle to you... On the other hand, I would like to meet Gerard. Then again, I'd like to be introduced. Um, how does he want people to react to his being in a wheelchair? How well do you know him? Was he a good regent? Where's Random, now, anyway?" Aisling, kind of shy and subdued again at the mention of the wheelchair, piles on a bunch of questions to mask this, and then cuts herself off.
Folly, who opened her mouth to answer the question about the wheelchair but then stopped short at the flurry of additional questions, smiles. "The answer to all of your questions is 'D: Either A or B, but not C'. Except for the last one, which is 'E: None of the above, have you tried the castle?'"
By Aisling's baffled look, it is clear she hasn't followed the D-A-B-C stuff. On the other hand, you've been granted a baffled look and not the usual polite mask which is the Aisling ohshit expression, if you happen to note that that's somewhat remarkable. She rests assured, though, that you will continue and explain...
Folly grins as she makes a mental note: No College Boards in Chaos.
She thinks a moment, making sure she's got all the questions in her head, then continues, "After five years of family dinners and occasional friendly card games, I guess I know Gerard pretty well -- and a lot of what I don't know first-hand, I can make a pretty good guess at. I think he wants people not to make a big deal over his condition." She pauses a moment, and a funny look -- part amusement, part sympathy -- crosses her face as she imagines Gerard being boo-hooed over by Flora. "He's still in quite a bit of pain, though he won't admit it; and I know it's been really hard on him, not being able to get around like he used to. There's some talk of looking for a cure for him off in Shadow, now that he's been relieved of his Regenting duties. I really hope that pans out." From the emotion behind Folly's words, it's obvious she's very fond of Gerard.
Aisling nods, looking thoughtfully blank.
"Was he a good Regent? Probably depends on who you ask. He's certainly a good man, which goes a long way in my book. I'll introduce you when we get back to the castle."
Aisling smiles. "You realize, of course, that all of you royals will have to get together soon, all at once, to catch up on gossip..."
Folly grins at that. "Do you play cards?" she asks. "'Cos I see a big-ass family card game in our future."
Aisling gets a smile and opens her mouth to reply, when she pauses, thinking of how to respond. She laughs at whatever the thought is, and then pauses as another thought comes to her, and then laughs again, and pauses, and stifles another laugh as politeness finally catches up, and manages, "Yes." She grins. "But I'm not as good as Random." She's still grinning.
Folly doesn't say, "Well, duh," but she's thinking it. And grinning. And making a guess as to what might've caused Aisling's reaction.
There's clearly a story there, but Aisling isn't going to tell it right now, as she moves on, "We'll have to all get together after the army is through anyway, to figure out what to do with them. If we can, it would be good to hold off until Jovian arrives with the dragons... They're too big to go by Trump, so he and Julian are bringing them here through Shadow."
Folly nods thoughtfully. "It took Martin almost a week to get from here to Ygg, so we probably have some time yet before they show up."
She looks suddenly troubled. "Which means we'll almost definitely be pulling the army through the Trumps before the dragons get here. Which might mess up Brita's plans for where to put everybody." She gnaws on her bottom lip, thinking.
"You feeling refreshed enough to get back to work?" she asks after a moment. "'Cos I think we ought to go talk to Brita about logistics."
"At any moment," Aisling says cockily in answer to the first question, then subdues in thought. She stands, looks kind of sadly at the third plate as she realizes there's no way she can carry it along to munch off of, "But yes, I've picked up a deep appreciation for logistics." She picks up the lavender scarf, which is knotted like a hair bandanna, and then pauses with irritation. She asks Folly, "Um. Is it possible that you could tie this around my hair again beforehand?"
Folly looks at the scarf curiously, then smiles and nods. "You should probably sit down again," she says with a grin as she considers the problem.
Aisling considers this for a brief moment, and then does so... Kneeling just wouldn't be appropriate.
Folly takes the scarf from Aisling and unknots it as she walks around to Aisling's side of the table. She takes just a moment to smoothe Aisling's hair, as softly as she might pet a kitten, before wrapping the scarf around her head, bandanna-style.
Then, with a gentle pressure from her fingertips, she indicates that she's ready for Aisling to lean her head forward so she can tie the scarf; she executes a small, secure knot at the nape of Aisling's neck, neither too tight nor too lose.
"All set," Folly says as she completes the task.
"Great," Aisling says, standing and turning and getting a bit of space. She realized about halfway through that that she's not quite up to having ladies she's just met, even nice ones, fiddling around with the nape of her neck.
Folly senses Aisling's need for space and casually takes a step backwards.
As she turns there's a flicker of royal purple from behind her, and by the time she's facing Folly again, her hair is lavender, her eyebrows are purple, and she's once more en-streamered. No sign of the scarf. "Thank you," she continues the sentence with a smile.
Folly has cocked her head to one side and is regarding Aisling with interest and awe, trying to work out how the hell she does that. "You're welcome," she replies, smiling in return.
"Onwards to Brita?" Aisling asks.
"Lets," Folly says cheerfully. "We can always come back for snacks later, if we need to."
Aisling chuckles. Ce'e follows along behind them.
Last modified: 23 May 2002