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Eoin woke up groggily, wondering why his mattress was so hard. He'd personally picked out the perfect mattress upon his arrival to Angela's house so as he sat up and stretched, he was confused as to why his neck was hurting as if he'd been sleeping on a....oh.

Eoin blinked blearily at his decrepit surroundings, trying to get his sleepy brain to logic out just what had happened and where he was. Because this wasn't his daughter's house. Clearly...while he was sleeping, she had hired someone to abduct him and leave him in some abandoned building in hopes it would throw him off, confuse him or make him want to go home.

Yes. Sadly, it definitely sounded like something she would do.

He smiled slightly as he stretched and stood, gearing himself up for what was likely going to be a long walk home (in silk pajamas, no less). Well. His little girl was most definitely delusional if she thought he was going to be sorely disappointed to find that, really, he found this more amusing than anything else. Well.

Now that he was up, it was definitely time to get home. Eoin looked around with a frown. Really. Did she have to have him dumped at a place like this? It wasn't as if he hadn't slept in worse but he was barefoot and wearing silk--and this place was filty and litered with debris. She could have at least just had him dropped at the harbour or something. Saying of which, he wondered where he actually was...

Eoin was busy inspecting his surroundings and looking for a way out when he heard a frantic voice calling him. The fact that there was another person in the vicinity gave him a pause, and a faint frown creased his brow. This threw a bit of a monkey wrench into his hypothesis about his daughter trying to get rid of him because, really, she had no reason to kidnap someone else too.

Then again, perhaps she'd decided the only way to make him go away was to set him up with a somewhat buxom and under-clad lady so he would take an extended honeymoon to Europe with his new wife and never bother her again. Eoin shook his head slightly, dismissing the idea. No, that was more something he'd pull on someone annoying. Angela was far more straight forward than that. Which then meant that she wasn't responsible for this situation which, in turn, meant someone else was responsible.

How troubling.

"Ah yes, hello there!" he called, heading toward the woman. He skirted a pile of jagged rocks and twisted metal, keeping an eye for anything sharp on his path. "Apologies. I didn't see you, before. Are you alright?"

From the way the woman was clinging to the door, it didn't appear it could be opened from the inside--strange. Did that mean they were trapped? Perhaps someone was holding the two of them hostage? This was a strange location for that sort of thing. Eoin could hear the faint sound of sea birds and surf and, with the circular shape of the building, he assumed this was a lighthouse. You didn't find many other circular buildings with rickety stairs spiraling into the tops.

Eoin stopped a few feet from the woman, studying her for a moment before saying, "You look as confused about the situation as I feel. Am I to assume, then, that you also have no idea what is going on or why we're here?"

"A pleasure to meet you my dear," Eoin said, taking Priscilla's hand by the fingertips and bringing it to his lips for a brief kiss. It didn't dawn on him that it might come off as more creepy or flirty than natural though, really, it was more of the latter (though if he'd been less concerned with situation and more attentive to his companion, he may have chosen to flirt just a little--she was quite lovely after all. Then again, he was trying not to stare because she wasn't wearing the most concealing outfit...) "Though it's a pity we have to meet under such odd circumstances," He realeased her hand and looked around with a slight frown. "I'm Eoin Tremaine."

This wasn't one of those large lighthouses with an attached house or anything like that. It was really just one large room with a stair leading to the top. He supposed there might be some sort of trapdoor somewhere, leading to a cellar...but they'd have to scuffle around under the rubble to find it. "As for escape, there don't appear to be any windows here on the ground floor..."

He glanced up, studying the spiral staircase for a moment before carefully picking his way over to give the wrought iron structure a good shake to test its sturdiness. "For now, I recommend we go up and have a look around. At the very least, we might catch a glimpse of our captors?" Eoin glanced down at his attire, then hers, still trying to work out just what was going on. Clearly they were taken while sleeping. He had to admit he was a little worried about his daughter at this rate. if someone was kidnapping him (for ransom perhaps? Though that seemed rather farfetched), then surely she was in danger as well. But no one should know they were here yet and, really, it's not as if he had loads of arch enemies lurking about waiting for the chance to kidnap him. Truly, his family was wealthy but there was no particular reason to target them over anyone else. He was a decorated officer with a good reputation, and as far as he knew, he'd never crossed anyone with the gumption to kidnap him. Besides, there was Priscilla to consider. Eoin had never seen her before in his life so why would she be here? Surely she wasn't the kidnapper.

He gave her a quick, suspicious look, but immediately dismissed the idea. She was obviously distressed and she had no motive.

Eugh. This was an odd situation, to be sure. Perhaps it was merely some sort of prank by some other resident of the island. "The stairway seems solid enough, but perhaps I should go up first to ensure it can hold our weight. Given the state of the rest of the building, it wouldn't surprise me to find there are loose bolts higher up."

Eoin smirked very slightly as the woman insisted on going up first. Well, he could respect that but...her legs were awfully distracting now that they were at eye level. He couldn't quite keep the smile off his face as she impulsively leapt up on the stairs ahead of him, leaving him to follow. Well. At least she had a backbone (and nice legs). He could certainly respect both those qualities in a woman.

"Oh, I don't actually live here...yet," Eoin said. "Not officially, anyway." He started up after Priscilla, going more slowly and paying close attention to any signs the stairs wouldn't hold their weight. All he heard, though, was the sound of their feet on the stairs, a few small pieces of debris falling through the cracks as they went up. "My daughter moved here recently and I came along to help her get settled in as this is her first time living away from England. Though I'll admit I'm strongly considering relocating, myself at this point. But I've not yet decided what--"

He was abruptly cut off when the stairs groaned beneath them and one of the steps gave way, clattering down to the floor below. Eoin didn't think twice. He braced himself on the rail to his left and caught Priscilla with his free arm, his shoulder wrenching slightly as she struck him. Grasping the rail to keep them both from tumbling backward, Eoin was a little glad he didn't have shoes or slippers since his bare feet were less likely to go sliding over the iron stairs. Pulling Priscilla against him so he could more easily keep hold of her if the stairs collapsed, Eoin peered down at the woman with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked a little breathlessly, heart thudding unpleasantly. "Did you injure yourself?"

And that was why he'd wanted to go up first. Some might call it old fashioned but he'd much rather he be the one in danger than her. Then again, if he'd been the one to topple backwards, he highly doubted she'd have been able to catch him. She was a good twenty centimeters shorter than he was, for one. Hmph. Well, it was probably for the best she went up first after all.

At least he'd caught her.

"Are you sure you didn't injure your ankle?" Eoin asked as Priscilla pulled away. Surprisingly, she seemed a bit flustered, which amused him a little. It had been a long time since he'd held a woman (not that that could really have been called 'holding' her per se) and longer still since it had caused one to blush. How charming. He supposed that, at the very least, he could have done worse for company in this situation. "Shall I have a look at it when we get up top? With all this rusted metal and old wood, even the smallest scratch could fester and get infected." And we don't know how long we'll be here, Eoin wanted to add, but didn't. To be honest, there was no reason to point that out. In the heat of summer, they weren't likely to last long without water anyway. So in the end, he reckoned it would be over long before she had to worry about infection.

"Ah...as for my daughter, Angela turned twenty-one this past spring. It's difficult to believe she's already an adult but, well, I won't bore you with the painful details of being a single father." He frowned as they neared the top. If there was not some miraculous way down from up here, he wasn't sure what they would do next. But hopefully, at least, they might see where they were. Perhaps they'd even see someone they could signal for help.

Eoin looked at the walls thoughtfully, wondering if they could chip their way out with some of the debris at the bottom, if it came to that. "We'll have to come up with a plan in case our kidnappers arrive," he said at last. "Though I'd like to believe this is merely a prank, under the circumstances, we ought to prepare for the worst.

Eoin gave Priscilla another amused look when she asked if he could fight. "I spent fifteen years in the royal navy and retired only so I could spend time with my daughter. So I believe I'll let you determine the answer to that question," he told her.

He looked around the top of the lighthouse, noting it was in much the same state as the rest of the building--apart from what looked like a shrine of some sort. Priscilla was currently crouched beside it, inspecting it. Eoin left her there and moved to see if he could open the windows that led onto the outside ledge. He frowned as he fought with the latch, which didn't seem to want to budge. Odd. Leaning to inspect it, Eoin shot a glance at Priscilla.

"Might I know a bit more about you, Priscilla? I hope it's not too farward to ask but it isn't for personal reasons. The more I think about our situation, the less sense it makes." He sighed, momentarily leaving the latch alone. It wasn't bduging so they'd likely need to break a window.

He peered outside. They were on a beach, obviously. But considering this was an island, and the entire perimeter was a beach, that didn't exactly tell him their location. And, strangely, the window latches didn't seem rusted or damaged. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't work out why it wouldn't move at all. Reaching for the latch once more, he tried twisting with every ounce of strength he had.

"By all outward appearances we have nothing in common and no connection to one another. It's difficult to believe this is just some random prank so that means our available options for what is going on here are rather slim--either one of us is the kidnapper, or we have some common ground not readily apparent," Eoin finally continued. "You don't seem the kidnapper type and I know I'm not in the habit of abducting people in my sleep so it must---" his words were cut off in by a long hiss of pain when he his hand slipped of the latch and and struck the metal frame, which sliced neatly into the flesh of his palm.

Eoin quickly pulled his hand close to survey the damage. Fabulous. Just what he needed--some sort of infection that would get infected and cause him to lose a hand, thus putting him at his daughter's tender mercies for the rest of his life. "I do believe the windows are quite out of the question unless we break them..."

Eoin stared at Priscilla somewhat startled at her rather crude direction to "pee" on his injury to clean it. It took a moment to work out whether or not she was serious but from all outward appearances, she certainly was. "I think not," he said, shaking his head. "Urine can pick up quite a lot of unsavory bacterias on its way through the urethra and over the skin. I'd likely be better off licking it clean--though leaving it to flush itself clean is likely the better choice in this environment."

Honestly. He couldn't believe she'd just casually (and crassly) suggested that. And he had no intention of contracting some disease from following poor advice. For now, he'd just let it bleed. In any case, it was going to be pointless to try to stop the bleeding with anything he had on him. Silk was't exactly the most absorbant material. Perhaps he should switch to flannel sleepwear in case of future kidnapping incidents.

"That isn't much information to go on," he told her, after the abridged version of her autobiography. The very, very abridged version. Eoin carefully walked around the top area, to see as much of the surrounding exterior as possible. "As for myself, my father is the 12th Earl of Denbigh. I was raised in England and spent most of my life there. I married when I was 18, shortly before entering the navy. My wife passed away more than ten years ago."

"So...it seems we really don't have anything in common at all. Which makes this whole thing rather more befuddling." He sighed and crossed his arms, holding his injured hand up to keep it from grazing anything else. "There doesn't appear to be much to see up here. We should head back down to see if we can find anything useful there. Or, perhaps, some way out." He paused, nodding toward the shrine. "Do you know what it's for? A lighthouse seems an odd place for a shrine..."