Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ambrose went to the Dude's side after giving Amaya another reassuring hug. "I know you're scared..." He said quietly. "We all are. But right now I'm going to help the Dude. We're here for eachother." He said, the seriousness and take-charge attitude washed over him at the moment. More than ever, the "costume" tabard that draped over him seemed to transcend costume status, Ambrose's directiveness filling out the uniform in both build and attitude.

Ambrose smiled to her and followed Emelyn to go help Aubrey. The Dude, especially after his transformation, was no small guy. He got his shoulder under one of the Dude's arms, and slowly started to lift.

"At least his room isn't far from here." Ambrose said to Aubrey and Emelyn. "We should be able to get him there safely." He paused for a moment, weighing the breath in his mouth. ".... Thank you, Aubrey. That.... I know that took a lot of courage." He looked her straight in the face.

Emelyn didn't know Aubrey well enough to echo Ambrose's sentiments out loud, but she gave the woman a soft smile, and hoped that the expression on her face was conveying what she felt- that Emelyn wanted to get to know the depth behind this person she'd previously misjudged.

"Here... where are we... going to put him?" She said it with little breath, and haltingly- it was difficult to be bowed over with such little support to her costume.

With the help of Aubrey and Emelyn, Ambrose helped lift the Dude out of the tent and into the cooler night air of the village. The music that still eminated from the tent seemed to take on a hollow, almost sardonic reminder of the "party" that had been going on that took a devastating reality shock. The night animal sounds from the jungle called out around them, bringing them out of the sheltered tent and somewhere easier to think.

"Let's get him to his room. It's not far from here." Ambrose started walking towards the familiar duplex, just one of many identical doors in the village.

"Thank you, Aubrey," Emelyn said, again feeling like her words couldn't convey what she was thinking, and hoping that at least some of her expression or body language was coming through more articulately. "I'm sure it'll be important to him... what you did... when he wakes up," She said.

A wave of... stilted confusion came over Emelyn, and the duality of the evening caused a buzz to hum in her ears- the forewarning of a headache that was forming. She turned to Ambrose and tilted her head forward at an incline to touch his blue-clad shoulder and let a sigh emanate in a warm breath onto the fine material.

After Ambrose saw to it that Dude was laid on his bed (only pausing for a moment for another shudder as he saw the keypad that had been hidden from his notice until now - another garish reminder of just how much control they had over them that had remained a secret until tonight). He checked his breathing and his pulse quickly before leaving him there sleeping and walking back out the door.

Ambrose nodded seriously to Aubrey, knowing how much she had jeopardized by this 'small' gesture. It was more than assistance, it was a choice - the first choice he had seen of her choosing the Islanders over Moreau during a confrontation. And perhaps, just maybe, a glimmer of hope. "I will see you around, hopefully." He added with a sincere, worried look. He squeezed her shoulder silently and turned to Amaya. "Are you alright...? Do you want to go back to your room...? Do you want to look after the Dude to make sure he's alright tonight?"

Finally, he turned to Emelyn, putting his hand on top of hers, feeling the reassuring warmpth and let his eyes fall into the blue pools that were hers. So much had happened that night so quickly. He had almost forgotten that this had started out as a party... a date. "I'm sorry, Emelyn.... I wish that tonight could have... come to a better close." A small smile touched his lips.

"I-I'm okay." Amaya nodded, stuttering slightly as her voice choked. "I'm gonna stay here if that's okay." She stood at Dude's doorway, looking back at him with a worried frown. Leaving him after something as extreme as all this just... didn't seem right. Her hands rubbed her arms once more to get warmth back into her system and to try and keep the tears from coming back again.

Mister Dude had been one of the friendliest and kind people she had met on the island. Even though the last time she had met him had been when she arrived, she didn't want anything bad to happen to him. Even if she had to stay up all night she would try her best to make sure when he woke up he knew what happened and had help if he needed it.

Ambrose drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly as the tension slowly started to dissapate, leaving only a weary exhaustion and a cold realization of their real status on the Island, behind the formalities.

Ambrose nodded seriously to Amaya. "That's very noble of you, Amaya. The Dude is a very nice man... and I agree with you - he deserves to know what happened." He gave her one final hug that night. "You're a lot more grown up than many of the people on this Island, Amaya. And I think you've been very brave. If you need any help, just dial 1 on the intercom, and I'll come help." He smiled, turning back to Emelyn.

"I'm glad.... despite the miserable ending. And I Do hope that you're right." He followed her a few steps towards the rest of the village. "And thank you, for everything. Coming here with me, your encouragement, everything." He stepped closer to her, closing his eyes at her touch of the side of his face, her hands feeling so soft...

Slowly, he took that hand in his, and, while keeping his eyes on hers, raise it to his lips and left a small, warm kiss on the back of her hand. "Milady... it was my honor to escort you to the ball this evening. And may your dreams take you to fonder realms than this one." He gave a deep bow before rising, and with a tip of his hat, slowly made his way back to his duplex where without even undressing or showering, he collapsed from exhaustion onto the bed - now quite early in the morning after a very long night of dancing... and emotional strain.