Welcome to Gaia! ::

Evelyn blinked in confusion. “You…want—oh! You want to talk to Andreas. Yeah! Sure.” Evelyn curtsied and ran from the room, and sent Andreas in, only to run off with Aloisius as soon as the door was closed.

Andreas leaned against the wall, his eyes remaining completely neutral. “I was asked for?”

Andreas shifted against the wall. His eyes locked onto hers. “What problem is that?”

Andreas took four steps away from the wall toward her before turning as she commanded. He was about to say something—about to accuse her of making the words appear—but he held back. Apparently anger management therapy WAS doing something.

Tuesday

Jessie took the afternoon off to put the finishing touches on his work. Those few short-long nights of work had drawn to a close so soon. So quickly. Now, as he looked over his work, it still didn't feel complete. Of course - it wasn't complete. The inside page and the first page proper of the book were blank.

What to do? Another intricate illustration, like on the closing page? No - something simpler. No flourishing border this time. Something that made a statement by itself.

On a separate sheet of paper, Jessie sketched out ideas, but didn't like any of them. He was being terribly fussy now that his time was nearly up. This was not the time to be fussy! But it had to perfect. For her. Evelyn. Her face appeared on the page in front of him, soft, delicate, youthful, perfectly shaded, true to life.

When Cressa came in from her afternoon session, he took the problem to her. She helped him by transforming an old piece of gold jewellery into four little cornerpieces and attaching them to the page. Into them, he slipped the little portrait, mounting her in the center. This was truly Evelyn's book! It couldn't get any more personal to her now.

Now only the inside cover remained blank. Keep it simple, he thought. To Evelyn, / With devotion. And then his signature - his signature in drowic, his original name. After so long, the pen felt almost clumsy in his hand as he wrote it - 'Jessie' was as much his 'real' name as it was, if not moreso. Not that it mattered. It would be a long time before she was able to decipher it. Maybe she never would - but she probably would, given her conscientiousness. He couldn't underestimate her. It was just exciting - the romantic secrecy he'd threaded through the book hinged on the uncertainty. Will she? Won't she? If she didn't, oh well. Nothing lost. If she did... he'd given her an even more special gift. If this didn't demonstrate to her that there was someone out there who cared deeply enough for her to... to do this, nothing would.

They bound it, and set the cover with a smooth oval of gold inlaid with the iconic spider silhouette, made from the leftovers of the ring used for the frame. Cressa leafed through the book carefully, taking all of it in.

She turned to him. "This book is a work of art. You can't just give it away! Let me copy it."

"This book was made for Evelyn. I don't want there to be another like it in the world. It's unique."

"For safety then, Jessie," Cressa gently coaxed, genuine concern in her voice and her eyes, "For safety. What if something happened to the original?"

At the thought of this, Jessie relented, and within fifteen minutes Cressa had magically created an exact duplicate for them to keep. A short time later, Jessie was sitting at the vanity, intent upon his reflection. He uncertainly reached up and pulled the back of his long hair into a low ponytail. Then, rethinking, he pulled the long veil of his fringe back too. "Maybe I should wear a patch."

"You hate patches."

"But I always hide behind my hair. I don't know... maybe Evelyn would like something different."

He turned his head this way and that. "I could tie it at the nape of my neck. That's not too effeminate. I've seen other men wear it that way."

"Since when do you worry about looking 'too effeminate?'"

"I still haven't decided what to wear... I'm leaning towards a suit. I picked up the style all the other men wear to the theater. Well, as far as I've seen, anyway."

Cressa was lying on the bed with her legs up, watching him. His expression in the mirror looked tense. She sat forward slightly. "...Not that you wouldn't look handsome in a suit, but why not your usual formalwear?"

"This is what the other men wear," he said.

"The other human men. You always look exotic and gorgeous in your own clothes, sweetheart."

He regarded his reflection glumly. Did he want to look exotic? Or did he want to look like someone Evelyn could feel proud to have beside her?

"I think I'll go with the suit."

"If that's your decision, you'll wear it well," she replied encouragingly.

"Perhaps I could use a cane, for decoration..."

"A cane?!" Cressa spluttered, disbelieving. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got to her feet, coming up behind him. "Oh Iessie, I wasn't going to say anything, but who do you think you're trying to impress? Evelyn doesn't think she's going out with some top-hatted bejewelled-cane-wielding Victorian gentleman wandering straight off the set of a period drama. She's going out with you! So why don't you act like it? Just be yourself."

If anything, his expression grew more miserable. She wrapped her arms around him from behind. "I didn't mean to imply that you wouldn't make a beautiful dapper Victorian gentleman."

"Oh, no, you haven't said anything wrong. I'm just... worried, I suppose."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Evie already knows who you are. I don't think one night at the opera is going to change her opinion."

He didn't reply for quite some time. "...I think a patch would be too showy. It's far too obtrusive."

"Then don't wear one, silly bear," she gently chided. He reached up and covered her hand with his own, and turned his head to kiss her. When they parted, Cressa was smiling playfully. "What in the world would you do if you didn't have me to talk some sense into you?"

"Oh, I don't know," he sighed, "I might have wandered off a cliff by now, lemming-style."

With Cressa's chants of be yourself, be yourself in his ear, Jessie chose his outfit. Well - Cressa helped. Quite a bit. But only when he couldn't decide for himself. Which was near constantly. Together, they put him in a bodysuit that fit him like a second skin, with looser pants which tapered into his boots. Black was always the base for their outfits. Then, they chose a wrap, a bit like the red wrap he'd worn at the Order's party, but much fancier, with gold trim and a subtle, textured pattern. They nearly came to blows over how to position it. The bodysuit he was wearing underneath had an unusual neckline, covering the neck and collar but exposing his muscular shoulders, which Cressa wanted to exploit. Jessie wouldn't play ball.

"But it looks so much sexier this way!" she cried, pulling it down off his shoulder for the fiftieth time. Eventually, he relented to her woman's eye and allowed her to pin it in place. Pins wouldn't allow it to fall correctly, however, with bare arms and little fabric to attach it to underneath, so she ended up spelling it in place. It was much more convenient that way. A ruby and gold brooch to decorate it at the waist. Then it was time for the hair.

Nothing too fancy, Jessie said. They were developing a theme of straight lines in the outfit, and so Cressa got out her straighteners and ironed out the gentle curve from the back of his hair, so that it fell down his back like a waterfall, much like hers. Then, she took out a pair of hair-thinning scissors, and began to snip at the sides, creating a tidy, tapering V-shape.

"Are you sure about this...?"

"It's gotten too long anyway. You can wear it like this for tonight, and then tomorrow I'll cut it to your shoulders, okay?"

Okay. Okay. She finished off the hair with a gentle brushing - it didn't need much coaxing to gleam - but he still wasn't quite complete. Slowly, Cressa persuaded him into adding touches. Two long gold necklaces. Gold bangles on the same arm as his wrap; the assymetrical effect of one bare arm and one covered in detail was stunning. Then, she talked him into allowing her to paint him a little. Just around the eye, just to bring the colour theme upwards. Straight, feathery lines of gold and red appeared on his eyelid, and a tapering gold line, Egyptian-inspired, at the side. It looked almost like the pinion feathers of a phoenix by the time she was done.

"Are you actively trying to make me look like a woman?" he asked when she brought out gold lipstick, feeling over-conscious of the effeminate structure of his face now that he also had eye makeup.

"Oh, no one could mistake you for a woman in this, my darling. Look at these muscles!! I'm in sexy man heaven right now! Maybe I should strip you off and send you over there topless," she grinned, "I'm sure that would make Evelyn's night."

He blushed fiercely. "And earn me a restraining order in the process, I'm sure."

In the end, Jessie won out on the lipstick, sort of. He pointed out that if he kissed her, and left sticky gold lipstick on her lips, or... other places... it wouldn't look good to her guardians. Cressa tried a little brushing of the gold eye makeup, then cleaned that off and applied a little, subtle illusory glamour; a dusting of gold on his lips, just to echo the colour scheme, keeping the whole look balanced between the bright colours and his ashy skin.

Her work completed, Cressa circled around him, surveying the pleasing final product. "Stunning."

"Asolutely stunning. And to think you wanted to wear a boring old suit. You look like you just walked straight off the catwalk and into reality. Evelyn will faint when she sees you. Her heart will stop."

Fret fret fret. Worry worry worry. Is it too much, do I look like I'm showing off - no, she replied, no more than a bejeweled cane and a top hat. "Look, it's twenty past six. Time for you to go and meet your date."

With a shock, Jessie realised she was right. He had no more time to worry and hover, and, in an unusual limbo between elven grace and being in a complete flap, tottered for the door. He reached for the door handle - stopped, and turned.

"You really don't mind that I'm doing this?"

"No, for the last time, I do not mind."

"If you changed your mind, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"I. Would. Now go! Enjoy your date!"

He tried to go... but turned again. His face was a picture of worry. "I should tell Evelyn about us. She deserves to know..."

"She does. But don't ruin the evening worrying about it. There's no need to spring it on her right away. Have a good time first. Go!"

"Do you think she'll lose interest?" he said, sounding pained. He hurried on before Cressa could answer. His mind must've been going in twenty directions at once. "She deserves better than a poly relationship. She deserves someone who can commit to her completely..."

Cressa loudly cut him off. "Who's in a poly relationship? Not me! Not you!"

Her eyes glinted. "I prefer the term - open."

He raised his eyebrow at her. "Yes, I did see you opening yourself up to Andreas earlier," he said, teasingly. Her smile grew wider.

"Oh, did you?"

"You're about as subtle as a runaway cart horse."

"Teehee! Yes, well, what can I say? His stupid hair has grown on me. He's not bad looking underneath it all."

"Are you expecting him to be good in bed?" he asked. Her smile grew again. "Oh, you didn't..."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Let's just say - it was not a PG-13 situation~" she sang. Her eyes darted to the clock again, and she gave him a little smack on the arm, as if he were a cart horse himself. "OFF WITH YOU!"

Laughing, he really did turn to go then, momentarily distracted from his nerves by their fun. As he retreated through the door, however, he looked back at her to give her one final message. "I left something for you in the vanity drawer,"

Cressa waited until he was already long gone to take a look in the drawer. There, she found a pale card, addressed 'To my Soulmate,' signed with a heart and his signature. And inside, when she opened it up, a small portrait of her - Cressa - fell out into her lap. It didn't quite spring to life like the others, and a small note at the bottom expressed the artist's frustration: 'I couldn't capture your beauty.'

She spent a long time looking at the paper and card in front of her. The most coherent thought that went through her mind was the one that told her to give him the biggest hug in the world when he got back.

“How does this one look?” Evelyn asked for the umpteenth time that afternoon. She had tried on countless outfits, magicked on more than she could care to remember, and altered the color scheme of at least forty-two articles of clothing.

“It looks fine. Just the same as every other outfit,” Gilroy responded, lying on her bed, a hat tipped over his eyes.

Evelyn took off her shoe and threw it at him. It landed on his stomach, just enough to make his hat fall off and him shoot up and look at her.

“What was that for?!” he asked angrily, rubbing his stomach.

“You weren’t looking!!!” Evelyn said as she stomped her foot.

“Does it even matter? You’ll just send another picture to Chloe and Zoey.” He grabbed the hat and placed it back on his face, returning to his relaxed state.

“And?” Evelyn responded, jumping on him herself. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t let me know what you think.”

Gilroy sighed and moved his hat away with his left hand, while moving his right to Evelyn’s hair. She hadn’t magicked it yet, so he didn’t have much hair to play with. Evelyn laid her head down on his stomach, a silent apology for throwing her shoe at it. Gilroy grabbed her right hand with his left, as she absent-mindedly traced patterns on his chest with her left.

“Your hair has grown some,” he said, pulling a small portion of it away from her head, straight in the air.

“You think?” she questioned, drawing a star over his heart.

“Yeah. It’s thicker now too. I think your hair wanted to be cut.” He stopped playing with her hair and started scratching her scalp.

“I doubt that.” She drew four swirls below the star, imagining each one in a different color.

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a nice thought.”

Evelyn shrugged and locked eyes with Gilroy. She sent energy—or rather, what she called energy for lack of a better term—into him, focusing completely.

“You are not leaving your room once I send you into it until tomorrow morning.”

“What?” Gilroy questioned. Evelyn sent more energy into him and didn’t blink.

“You are not leaving your room once I send you into it until tomorrow morning.”

Gilroy’s eyes glazed over, and Evelyn knew it worked.

Evelyn pulled away, jumping down on the ground, using a bit of magic to make the clack the one high heel she had on made louder, shaking Gilroy out of his unfocused state.

He blinked a few times before actually seeing her. “Yes. That one. That outfit. Wear it.”

Evelyn pulled at the almost unattached red and black sleeves near the golden cuff. She swayed and the red lace on her black bustle skirt shined distantly, with golden sparkles. Evelyn touched her stomach, feeling the lace of the corset, and saw the tiny golden tassels on the bottom edge. She felt better. She did. This seemed right.

Without a word to Gilroy, she turned and went out into the hallway. Evelyn had already sent Armin away for the evening, so the only opponent she faced was Andreas.
He evaluated her when she exited the room, and once again remembered her date. He was getting a bit fed up with hearing about it. The girl only wore one shoe—Overseer only knows why—and so it wasn’t a surprise for him when she tripped and he had to catch her. Her hand made contact with his bare chest, and suddenly, Andreas felt different. At peace. At rest. His thoughts floated, but not one of them—not even the one involving Armin drugging his drink—actually made sense in his head. He was just simply…happy. Evelyn was holding eye contact with him, and she said something. What did she say? She just repeated it. What is it?

“You are to stand watch out here all night, no matter what. You are not to leave that spot right there by the door until Aloisius relieves you in the morning."

What? Of course he was. What else was there for him to do tonight? Of course nothing.

Evelyn’s hand was still on him, and she kept repeating the same thing over and over, but he got the meaning. Evelyn sighed and pulled her hands back from him and entered the room again, closing the door with a satisfying bang.

Evelyn slid down against the door, her back pressed against the cold wood, as she let out on auditable sigh.

“Evie—”

“I’m not moving. From this spot. He’ll be so annoyed with me. He’s been on countless exciting adventures. I’m boring and dull.”

Gilroy sighed as well and mumbled, “Just as long as you’re not another conquest.”

“What was that?” Evelyn asked, her head tilted to the right.

“Nothing! Nothing. Evie, you’re not boring. And besides, even if he’s stupid enough to think you are, there’s still someone at home waiting for you,”
Gilroy said, hoping she’d catch the allusion to his brother.

Evelyn tilted her head to the left this time, not catching what he meant. Like always.

“Never mind. You’re not dull, Evelyn. You’re…” he searched for the words, the words that Chloe and Zoey had instructed him to say, “you’re elegant! You’re fashionable! You’re smart! Caring!” Gilroy looked proud of himself, that he remembered everything that the girls had written for him to say.

Evelyn blinked. Gilroy got nervous. Did he forget one? OH! He did.

“You’re fabulous!”

Evelyn burst out into giggles at that. “Roy, just hearing you say that made this entire afternoon of dressing and undressing worth it. I simply demand you use that word more often.”

Gilroy smiled and walked across the room and pulled Evelyn up off the floor. Her back stayed pressed against the door, and Gilroy stayed holding her hand. “Evie, you look flipping drop dead gorgeous, okay? You know that little pessimistic voice in your head telling you you’re not? Ignore it. It’s wrong.”

Evelyn was about to throw her arms around Gilroy for a hug, when she heard a voice outside the door. Evelyn scurried over behind the heavy velvet-esque curtain that she had enchanted to float so she could change behind it. Gilroy ran to the other side of the room to grab her shoe, he threw it over, so it hit the wall. Evelyn grabbed it, and moved back behind the curtain.



Andreas responded to the dark elf with a tiny bow and his hand meeting his forehead and dropping. “Good evening, Captain Jessie.” Andreas was feeling a considerable amount better, so the amount of sarcasm that seeped into his words was rather light today. However, before Andreas or Jessie could continue the exchange, Gilroy had the door open.

“Hello, Jessie.”

That day, several different people were doing several different things.

Alexi had decided to read a few books in the library, having been overcome by a sudden urge to learn more about ocean life, considering she lived in a temple on the beach.

Sven had taken to creating a small garden in a patch of grass he found near his favorite spot on the beach. It wasn't growing very well, but that wouldn't stop him. At the moment he was watering the flower section, hoping it would encourage them to bloom.

Glee and Laramie had found a terrace to sit on and spent the time chatting casually. They weren't sure what they were going to do with the rest of their day--maybe go on a date--but for now they were enjoying the day.

And last but not least, Forte was, as usual, composing a song in the music room. She worked diligently, occasionally playing the piano or the organ depending on what she fancied to see if the musical composition sounded right. She wasn't quite sure if it would be, but she was hoping to have it ready by tonight, because she had plans for the evening.

Yes, this was how their days were going. Relaxing, peaceful...everything was just right.


((My apologies for this lackluster post. I'm a bit burned out because of the post I worked on earlier as well as the fact that I haven't been on here in forever and am not sure what to do. So I figured I'd post this and see what happens. 3nodding ))