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The Windy Thing

Love you... The words caught her so offguard that she would have stumbled if she'd been moving. As it was, her green eyes when wide and she stared at him for a moment. They'd never said the words to each other. It was an unspoken thing, where they didn't say it because they didn't have to, not really. They knew what they felt for each other.

For him to actually say it though...

Her heart pounded in her chest and she threaded her fingers with his and squeezed his hand.

"The Librarian huh... that suits you, love," she purred, brushing her shoulder against him.

Then something changed and it was not his Alex that stood next to him, but someone far far older. Snarkier.

She didn't like galas, especially thinly veiled events to 'purchase' rare artifacts. Alexia let out a soft sigh and watched the party around her, hand tightening around her staff---

The Windy Thing let out a gasp, hand squeezing tighter on the Librarian's. That was... her, but not her. That woman's memories, of Alexia. She'd been here. She'd been here. Before.

Gods...

The Red Prince

Ey brow rose. The Red Prince forgot quite a lot of manners in the thick of a party. Human decency left eir mind for much too long, even when engrossed in company; Schörl would've been amused. But the wonder wanted to make a spectacle of em, or convince em that the stars were a better home than earth's decrepit core. That being human meant an allowance to make mistakes, to stumble socially and misstep with obvious deflection.

"Elven Rook." Ey paused then, flame eyes shuttering, brow furrowed. Ey swallowed deliberately, tasted eir own mouth. Strange. Eir attention just as quickly snapped back to her. "The Red Prince will do." Ey offered a hand, expecting that the glimmer and glitz of the party would recontextualize it. Call it body paint and false nails. Call it skin-tight gloves with too-hot hands, call the tremor a crush or a skip of the heart over newfound company. Here, everyone was pretty. Everyone was half-crazed with pretty, be it tongue tied over other false names or speaking with the nothing they made for themselves. Queer.

Whether she shook that hand or not was irrelevant. Ey moved slowly around the perimeter of the room, careful not to catch grating on elegantly sculpted tables or catch eir reflection in the milk glass. Here, in overbright euphoria, ey found naked. Stranded. Powerless.

But this girl — she wasn't. She said nothing of eir oddities, so ey folded hands behind eir back. "I was taken to a dead battlefield on Castor — that was dreary." Eir gaze climbed the far wall, trailing the decorations up and up and up away from the churn of people. Then ey found the distant Astrarium, where more people gathered. "This isn't. This isn't quiet like Lysithea's empty fields. It's... impressive," ey admitted. And I don't like it.

"Let's visit the artifacts. See what we can see." Eir gaze came back down to her, hawkish.

Jägerin

She stilled at the initial jerk, stiffening as his hand came up to catch her arm, There was second to decide if she intended to resist the draw of his fingers, then the second had passed and and the tension had drained from his grip at her elbow. An acquiescence Jägerin would take advantage of, fingers trailing along the edge of his jaw and back along the side of his neck to his nape, the pad of her thumb stroking softly back and forth. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough--she wanted to pull him in against him, bury her face against the front of his chest and reacquaint her senses with him.

She wanted to drown in his presence like she used to.

There was no resistance as he started to draw her through the crowd, perfectly willing to follow his lead. Her heels snapped with every step, muffled by the layers of skirts, and she'd draw her arm from his hand as they walked to curl it around his own instead. "It would be surprising to find cigarettes here, but a drink is easy enough to find. Champagne seems to flow here like water from a spring." She held up her glass again for emphasis, offering it over.

"Where are we going?" She asked curiously, watching a few of the guests as they passed before looking back up at Alois. The ghost of Alois? It didn't matter where they were going, not really. So long as she remained by his side.

Whatever magic this was, Jägerin was almost certain it would not last. Whether the wonder itself, the event, or something else, she knew down to her core that she'd have to say goodbye again, likely at the end of the night. But at least this time she'd actually get that chance. If this was all time she'd be allowed with him, then she would take it, gladly. Gratefully. This time was a gift.

Resilience

He was glancing around when her sentence fell off, looking, praying for a familiar face...though none came and her sentence trailing off made him glance back down at her, curiously...perhaps a bit worried. He noted it was nothing though, so he gently squeezed her hand again and went back to looking around. That was when he saw someone, just a flash and a flicker of a memory that caused his chest to clench uncomfortably.

He panned his gaze back and his eyes settled on him. Someone he knew, once upon a time, maybe. But the longer he looked the more he noticed that he was among the ghostly half of the crowd, and that...trouble him, somewhat. That he perhaps knew one of these apparitions, whoever they were. It was tempting to wave him over, see if he could respond...

"I see one I know," he murmured, eyes on the man in the distance, dressed in fancy robes that reminded him of the various movies depicting ancient Rome and wearing a lion-themed mask. "Maybe we should just...ask...them?"

He couldn't resist, and he waved the man over.

La Cadenza

La Cadenza was still smarting at what had happened, at the way that witch of a woman had been so rude and stolen her flirtation right out from under her, but she was at a party. She had to have SOME fun, so she wandered over and managed to snag a glass of the champagne she had missed on the way in, with her intent to meet the pretty Chauvet squire and flirt, and try to help the girl feel better.

It had all failed, so at least she could have access to the champagne, something she normally could not get at home.

She wandered amongst the displayed pieces, sipping her glass with care... The pieces WERE incredible, she would admit that, and she wondered at where they came from, how they had all gotten here, and why. Nothing seemed connected, in her eyes, so it was unclear as to why anyone would have such a strange collection.

Still, they were amazing. She noticed a manuscript, and turned to look at it. It was music! She positioned herself to read it, following the notation with ease, and finding herself entranced by it. Entranced by the music, which she could hear in her head, and the words, which she could not read but somehow... She found herself softly singing them, even though she did not know what it was she sung, and for some unknown reason, a tear slid down her face, as a grief she did not understand overcame her.

Observer

She watched the other man exchange glances with both of them, her own curious and with a hint of welcome, as she found herself thinking that this strange man reminded her of Nate himself, though she was not sure why. Sure, he was tall, muscular and had similar hair and bear. His eyes were a different color, and he was definitely a different person.

And yet he made her think of Nate.

"Maybe he was deciding whether it was a good idea, babe. And come on, people are wearing costumey stuff. Maybe he decided to go a little more all out."

She felt tension in her boyfriend, though Observer was not sure at all why Resilience was so uncomfortable. For her, this man felt safe, comfortable, and she felt an instinctive urge to trust him, a rare thing indeed for her. When Nate said nothing to the strange man, despite calling him over, she decided to speak. "Are... Are you a ghost, like that woman who opened the Gallery? Why do we know you...?" Her tone was shy, nervous, plaintive, and yet she sounded like she was not potentially scared of him, despite all of that, unlike her normal reaction to a strange man.

Observer

Observer watched the strange yet familiar man come close. When he started to reach for her, she did not flinch away, which confused her, but when he stopped, when she saw something odd in the way he stopped, it confused her more, and left part of her that she did not understand aching sadly for something, like something had been lost and she was almost finding it... But could never regain it.

She also saw Resilience's anger, the way he seemed ready to protect her when she was very sure she did not need protection, and for a moment, she just listened, and watched. The explanation about who he was there to see had her eyes going wide, and then Resilience's reaction had her turning to look up at him, her blue eyes worried.

"N... Resilience. He's not of our time, clearly. He's... He's a ghost, like Genevieve herself, the woman out there who opened the Gallery for the current Chauvet Squire." She turned her head back to the man. "We were both invited. Many people were. I get the feeling this group is quite odd, though I am not sure why."

Observer

She ran her hand along Resilience's arm, trying to help him calm down, since he seemed unnerved, by the way she read it. The step back was certainly unlike him, and she just wanted him to be happy. She murmured softly to him "It's ok, babe. Whatever is going on here, we will be together, and we'll be ok. Every strange thing we've endured together, we have come out of in generally good shape."

She then refocused on this strange man, and when he commented on her tastes changing a bit, her expression went extremely confused. "My taste has changed? What do you mean by that? How would you know what my tastes in partners are?"

THAT was perhaps the strangest thing she had heard or seen yet. Yes, she had felt she knew him, could trust him and he deserved her trust. Yes, he made her feel like he was similar to Nate.

But she knew she had not met him, not in this life, so how would he know that?

"And... More selective how?"