Bells in Trayas

[Itera]

A crescent moon still dawdled in the sky when joyous bells rang out from the sun-soaked white stucco tower of Trayas' Old Church. The spring rains had let up yesterday in time for this morning's ceremony and the few flocculent clouds floating in the sky promised the respite to last the day. Amidst general cheers, the procession filed out of the Old Church's age-darkened doors and made their way down the winding streets to Seymour's, not two minutes' walk away. Well, most of the procession, anyway. A few chosen young men lugged the hope chest up the other way, to the couple's home.

That morning, Anthony Doumer had put on his best coat and, after one bracing drink with his best friend Paul Aicard, set off for the bride's house on the other side of town. He got as far as the gate to his garden before running into the Idiot Five - Charles Gounod, George Clemency, Eugene Felix, Robert Mandat, Hubert Mimosa, and Henry Cerceron. This was usually cause for alarm for a groom, but Anthony was an occasional associate for these pranksters and that in bought enough immunity to avoid, say, having a bucket of water drop on his head as he opened a door. More disconcerning is that the troupe had invitations; those were written out during the drunken stupor at the Bachelor Funeral last night.

Anthony had waved off the offer of whiskey from George, that perpetually cheerful drunkard, before ascending the steps and ringing the bell at Saylor House. Harry Saylor, father of the bride, greeted him at the door, yelled at Eugene and Hubert on account of the massive chicken that the two had painted on one of his sheds last week, and invited the groom inside for a brief wait. Barbara was having a sudden attack of cold feet and her mother Alice was upstairs with her to do a little reassuring. This was a bit unexpected; Barbara was an unusually headstrong girl who had more or less planned the wedding herself with a little help from her best friends Valentine Meran and Diana Russel.

Paul had finished two biscuits and Anthony one by the time that Barbara finally came downstairs, clinging to Diana's arm for support. The guests milling about downstairs gave a great cheer that almost sent the bride scurrying back upstairs again; it was fortunate that Alice and Valentine both firmly blocked the way behind. The band outside struck up their music after Alice's older brother Kent finally found where his flute went; his brother Tommy had made off with it to try to play, as nine-year-olds are prone to imitation.

The procession took their sweet time to get to the Old Church, mainly because the musicians traditionally headed the procession and Albert Wilmore was having a devil of a time keeping his drums on his person with one broken strap. All of Trayas was awake by this point and the entire street had filled with children blocking the route with white ribbons. Barbara was a right dab hand with scissors; even Charles and Robert inciting the children to evasively shake the ribbons up and down didn't come to much.

The Reverend Sobini had gone through the ceremony with his usual energy. This is the same vicar who had compressed ten pages of sermon down to two short sentences and then spent the remaining time belting out an impromptu aria on the subject of altruism to the tune of 'Climbing Over Green Hills'. Of course, with Gregory Poorswift at the keyboard, the Reverend had to stop twice to allow the roaring toccatas through. Old Gregory didn't restrain himself on the violin during the procession to the church doors and he enraptured the audience for six minutes on the keyboard during the procession to the church altar. That didn't count the encore.

When it came time for the blessings of the parents, Rene and Louise Doumer suppressed their personal disapproval of the Saylors long enough to give their congratulations and blessings on their son's union. This was somewhat overshadowed by a elaborate speech from Harry Saylor, who had cheated a bit by asking his friend Philip Ashford, the author, to pen it. Following that, Francis Tempton from Antheor over the hill stood and gave a uncharacteristically short speech for his newlywed niece, then made the first donation into the hope chest. His wife Selma followed and it took almost an hour for the filling of the box to finish. As usual, the friends and family representing from Theoule had the most extravagant gifts, topped by a complete dining service for 12 and a decorated flagon from Eric Doumer the silversmith. He had conspired with Albert Virneuf, the furniture maker, so that these fit exactly into the new cabinet for his cousin.

Bill Seymour had been bustling about his establishment since well before dawn. Weddings at the Old Church always had their reception at his house; it has been traditional since the time of his father. Awnings had to be fielded. He's sent Melissa down to the patisserie twice already to get reassurances on the cakes from Edith Schilling. The big, traditional pot of soup had to be simmered for at least six hours. The butchery didn't open until well after sunrise on account of Norris Lurwig being a lazy bloke. They were out of hand towels. Bill handled each obstacle calmly; after all, he's already hosted half of the weddings in the town and seen worse than this, like the rain of sardines during young Henry's wedding.

By the time the crowd arrived, Bill was smiling in front of a heaping array of drinks for the parched people. He even remembered to break out a keg of dark ale for the guests from that strange village Sanglers. There weren't very many of them, but Edmond Steand alone could probably finish the whole keg with his bear-trapper-sized gulps. How Rene managed to get an invitation out to someone moving about in the deep forest is a mystery. It was an even deeper mystery when, a half-hour later, the pale, gangly Ashford was found singing rowdy tunes arm-in-arm with Steand.

The stacking of the fruit cakes began in earnest as soon as the last straggler cleared the doorway. Valentine and Diana lead the way with their morsels. While the Idiot Five only contributed one cake, that was still one more cake than expected. It was also the size of Anthony's head. The stack reached quite a ways up from the table before the couple finally put the wedding veil over it and leaned in for a kiss. It was precarious going, but not one cake got completely knocked over - a sign of promised prosperity!

What followed was an extended pause as the two held still for Adam Wensler to sketch for a portrait. He had managed to get all of his equipment over the mountain only with the help of the twins Thomas and Kirk Tempton. Gounod's suggestions vied with Tamara Swinning's for Wensler's ear; the master painter pointedly ignored both of the amateurs.

Meanwhile, the guests had moved on to the hors d'oeuvres. They diffused out into the field and clumped with depressing predictability. Reverend Sobini tried to get Rene, Athas, and Bernard to share a few minutes with Gerard, but the Trayas-Doumers were still Not Speaking with the Antheor-Doumers on account of what Their Teddy said about Our Athas' Meredith two years ago. When the miller turned away and took Rene and Bernard with him, Sobini dropped Gerard off with the cluster of Upper-Antheor Saylor husbands and friends. They were discussing the new engagment of Brian to Millie Herbault. The proud father, Michael Russel, was vigorously thumping Brian on the back. Brian, for his part, was flushed red and looking imploringly past Francis at his sister Anne for rescue. Anne giggled, waved her fan, and set off with her friend Betty Harley towards the punch.

The punchbowl had been under continuous assault from Henry and a half-dozen children. They were briefly distracted by the appearance of a cart of cold cuts and nearly knocked over Charlotte Keeman on the way past. Charlotte managed to hold onto every drop of her beer, saving Theoule from causing an inter-town incident all over Diana's and Hermine's dresses. This put nary a pause into the five-way gossip on the topic of Peter Renald and Julie Saccone being found in a haystack together. Diana shared the same scandalized opinion as Marie Wren and Clemmie Saylor, but those three made no headway in convincing Hermine Lerins before she excused herself to try to find a certain someone at the door.

[Resolve]

Resolve loved parties. She hadn't been invited to Anthony and Barbara's wedding but it was a given she'd pop up at some point during the reception, the girl having established somewhat of a reputation in her handful of years on the loose in the Radasanth vicinity's social scene. The war had put a damper on things for obvious reasons, but she still managed to find something to do when inspiration struck. It was one of her goals to someday be that one old lady who somehow received invitations to every event in the region, a permanent fixture in celebration everywhere. Her funeral would be the most glorious fête of the century; she had already begun planning it and very much hoped that at that point she would have her abilities under enough control that she could attend as a ghost. It wasn't worth trying to tell her that wasn't possible; she'd find a way.

Today promised to be particularly entertaining as Resolve was rather fond of the Idiot Five and they weren't usually welcome to this sort of gathering, which she was quite certain was a mistake on others' parts. She knew for a fact one of the greatest and most under-appreciated virtues was that of not taking oneself too seriously, and the quintet was blessed with enough of that to make up for all the cantankerous great-uncles, overbearing mothers, drunken grooms, and anal-retentive brides that always seemed to be such downers at what would otherwise be splendid occasions.

The girl was running late from the long, pleasantly scenic trek to Trayas but she wasn't concerned, as it was difficult to infringe on etiquette when her unbid appearance broke at least several rules of polite company in the first place. Resolve had hitchhiked from the city with a merchant and spent the morning teaching her the rudest songs she knew, and by the time they rolled into town, their voices were going hoarse from melodic cursing and laughter.

"Thanks, Lottie. If I'm not here by the time you come back through, just go ahead without me." Resolve slid off the covered bench and onto the dirt with a jingle of anklet bells, then tossed her new friend a grateful wave.

Lottie, a jolly, fair-haired woman more than several years Resolve's senior, waved back. "Have fun, kiddo." With a snap of reins she rattled off down the road toward the destination of her delivery and Resolve was left brushing dust from the crimson fabric of her peculiarly wrapped sari. She loved the exotic style of clothing from her father's homeland but didn't like anything that constricted her legs –– her motto concerning fashion was if you can't run in it, it ain't worth wearin' –– so she'd developed her own method of utilizing nine feet of brilliantly embroidered brocade. She'd made use of a narrower weave that came just to her knees when tucked around her waist and the long end was thrown across her shoulders like the dashing desert rake she wished she was, trailing free in the back where it was loosely held in place by the heavy leather belt that harnessed her sword to her hip.

Aside an artfully hidden purse and her trusty pendant, the only other thing in Resolve's possession was a small gift for the newlyweds: a spice-scented candle. Lottie's trade was in pretty useless, decorative objects and it was beyond the younger girl why anyone would want something whose only purpose was to smell like food you don't get to eat, but Lottie had convinced her these were all the rage in wealthy households and Resolve couldn't argue with that logic, so she grudgingly forked over some change for the votive now clenched in her fist as she made the last stretch of her journey on foot.

Hermine was at the door when Resolve arrived. She was actually looking for someone else when she excused herself from gossip moments ago, but the arrival of a new person had her attention for the moment. Hermine stood blocking the entrance and her honey-hued eyes passed over Resolve in efficient judgment, lingering at her very bare, very brown midriff. "The bachelor funeral was last night," she said as she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Oh, you know very well who I am, Hermine. Will you kindly get over yourself and let me in?" This was said with a level of charisma not many, but Resolve did, possess. It was to Hermine's dismay that there were likely others here who would very much like to see this creature and she stepped aside with a defeated sigh. They hadn't gotten along since meeting as precocious preteens at a girls' boarding school in the city; Resolve was kicked out only a month in on several counts of misconduct, from refusing to do her studies to endowing Hermine with her first black eye. Of course, the story was very different depending on which side told it.

Resolve brushed past the glowering girl and walked through to the back where the reception was taking place. The bride and groom were easy to spot, if not for their outfits but then for the increasingly impatient looks they were sending each other as they fended off half-cousins and friends-of-friends with obliging nods and smiles, a continuous onslaught that prevented them from finding one half-moment of peace together. This obvious distress might have been off-putting, but Resolve knew it as a necessary part of the celebration and strolled right up to add her own noise.

"Congratulations! Oh, you are such a handsome couple," Resolve edged her way in front of someone's grandmother to greet them briefly. She figured she at least owed them that, as very shortly she was about to fully enjoy whatever refreshments were available. She pulled a confused Barbara into her arms for a girlish hug of pure delight.

"Who are you, again?" Anthony inquired, only to be answered by a candle stuffed in his hand. The wax was a bit melty from Resolve's iron grasp and he didn't seem particularly grateful for the slimy gift, but at least he'd smell delicious for later.

"Aren't you just so glad the weather held out?" Resolve said with a toothy grin and mostly to Barbara, then wandered off to find the people she knew as well as harass some she did not.

Henry was easy to find by the punch bowl. "A little far for you, isn't it Rez?"

"Oh, but I had to come when I found out you were invited, dear Hen." They both despised their nicknames for each other but shared a great love for a good prank, so they settled for casual friends when they weren't having rivalries in the name of pretty faces. "Ugh, this is too sweet. I need a beer."

[Itera]

Melissa Seymour had some difficulty getting the rounds of beer over near the punch and alleged drinks table on account of people in various states of thirst and drunkeness seizing every mug off of her before she could cross the distance from the bar. On her third try, she finally managed to get three through and set down onto the table. Henry glanced at them and reached inside a pocket while wearing a rather familiar-looking expression of innocent inattention. A tiny glass bottle came out, filled with a thick, clear, faintly red substance that bore an uncanny resemblance to what had been dripped into Diana's unmentionables one day while they hung out to dry. The poor girl had started screaming in the middle of the street

"Aww, that's awful kind of you. I've missed you, too. Things just aren't the same without you around to inspire ... ah... creativity." He turned back from the table, holding two presumably unadulterated mugs of the pale yellow lager favored in Trayas. "To a productive day; I gather that George and Eugene have arranged for the hedgehog business again." The last time that happened, it had finally ended with three grown men hanging from a tree in the yard of the New Church. Gathering the critters is painstaking work in three senses of the word, but George and Eugene were generally very determined and very drunk when it came to large projects.

The two mugs that Henry held out now was also a tradition. The challenged is required to choose and drink from one mug; the challenger drinks from the other. It was almost unfair to play with Henry, who provided from his apothecary and probably had secret means to distinguish.

Meredith Doumer closed the second outhouse door behind her, smoothed down her skirt again, and set off to rejoin the throng of people clustered around the small stage. This was a quiet throng, since Gregory was in the middle of having some sort of highly ordered seizure on his violin again. So engrossed was Meredith that she completely failed to notice the strange happenings in the outhouse that she had just left. One could not blame her for not hearing the violet-colored rift tear open; such things were entirely silent to people who could not hear the music of space and time.

What was not silent was the heavy, relieved sigh that followed as a young lady hopped bodily through the rift, mob-cap-first, and slammed the outhouse door shut. Four minutes and much fabric-shuffling later, the door unbarred and Itera stepped out. She gaped. There was certainly a party outside, but it looked absolutely nothing like the one that she had just taken a break from. For one thing, there wasn't anybody running around while on fire, there were no large men dragging people away, and not a single poker game was going on. All in all, it was a much more tame sort of party.

That means people aren't watching their precious things.

In the world, there is such a thing as two outhouses whose insides looked exactly identical. Bill Seymour happened to possess one of such a pair and had, until today, completely avoided the incredibly odd event of having a fairy suddenly appearing in his establishment by that sort of mistake. Itera looked about and a plan slowly forming in her alcohol-buzzed brain. Her fan shot open like a gun, she tilted her chin up, and one boot stepped in front of the other to begin her stately entry from the outhouse.

"Oh good, you're here!" Jordan, Meredith's younger sister, pattered through with a trayful of empty mugs and came to a stop in front of Itera. "Sleeping in again, right? Come on, put that fan away and hand the ham to papa. We're already short-handed as it is. Here, you can take this load back while you're at it." She shoved the tray into Itera's arms and ran off in the direction of the cheese trays.

Itera worked through what had just happened, starting with the realization that she was still holding a sack full of about ten pounds of excellent ham, borrowed from right under the butcher's nose one town ago. That means that she had been demoted to delivery girl and then promoted to... to... waitress? She got about this far by the time that she arrived at the kitchen, where she dropped the ham on the counter and had the tray seized by Richard, Bill's nephew and dishwasher.

"Guess Harold came through after all. How's your papa? Fever gone yet? Awful kind of him to offer you to work here." Bill's knife never stopped as he talked to Itera, "You must be Valerie. Heh, you're a lot cuter than when I first saw you, when you was a wee baby. Grab a napron off of that rack, you can start by getting those canapes out to the table. Bring back empties."

A bemused Itera picked a plain white napron with a small beer stain on it, tied it over her dress, and set off with all three torso-sized wooden platters balanced in the arms. Well, this saved her having to make introductions and trying to blend in. It'll make things much simpler for her. What fortune.

Then Meredith ran her over at the door.

"Oh, you're... you're good. Sorry!" Meredith continued onto the kitchen, yelling something about more beer. She didn't quite have time to think about why none of the platters had gone flying when Itera was introduced rump-first to the floorboards. Itera, for her part, stared in some shock after her reflexive manipulation of the Boundary of Motion and Stillness. What fortune.

Itera got up. Itera walked out the door into the party and started making her way across to the punch-and-drinks-and-appetizers table. Itera got pinched in the bottom, right through all the clothes.

Someone was going to lose what fortune he had today.

[Resolve]

"Oh, I do hope so," Resolve answered concerning hedgehogs, then looked to the ominous pair of mugs with a determined furrow of the brow. She was quite bad at this game and lost enough times that she had half a mind to excuse herself right then and there, but that wouldn't do, now would it? Henry was an old mate and she wasn't about to go spoiling that with a meager temptation toward self-preservation.

After brief deliberation Resolve chose the mug on her right, accepting it with a smooth "Cheers," and shotgunned it to speed up what she felt might turn out to be an unpleasant experience. Henry had sipped his and looked to her with a dreadful little grin, the gap between his two front teeth pronounced. That irritated Resolve to no end. "Oh, balls," she cursed with a gasp as she came up for air, a hot sensation traveling quickly through her sinuses and down her esophagus. Henry suddenly found himself relieved of his beer as Resolve took it from him and drank, something which did very little to soothe the effects of his evil concoction.

"Have you ever chosen correctly? Even once?" Henry taunted her, grabbing a couple more mugs from Melissa's tray as she once again approached the refreshment table, effectively clearing it and sending her back to refill once more.

Resolve wanted badly to retort, but her throat felt constricted and any harsh words were muffled into the crook of her arm as she covered her mouth and coughed hard. It was probably for the best that she couldn't speak at the moment, as what she had to say to Henry was not fit for polite company.

The girl was recovering with the help of some punch when the new server, a peculiarly dressed one at that, approached the vicinity with a tray of hors d'oeuvres and was promptly harassed by one Charles Gounod. He was originally on his way to make small talk with Henry and Resolve but Itera had caught his inebriated eye and well, once that had happened, there wasn't much escape from his attentions. Henry hadn't seemed to notice but Resolve did, and though some of her newfound confrontational nature might be owed to her rapid consumption of two pints of beer, there was no doubt in her mind that she must not let this injustice go unpunished.

"Charles Llewellyn Gracious Gounod," Resolve called him out with an accusing finger, utilizing the humiliating entirety of his given name. That meant war. "You apologize to this young lady right this very instant." She was now present in Itera's line of vision, a pendant of interest clearly visible on its chain around her neck.

Charles had the some love-hate relationship with Resolve that Henry did, and most of the rest of their gang. "I didn't do nothin'," he defended himself, his hands suddenly quite occupied in fixing his sloppily-done-up tie.

Resolve responded by wrapping her arm reassuringly around Itera's shoulders –– or at least she assumed it was a reassuring motion, considering how such an act of violation might make an assumedly helpless girl usually feel –– and used their combined power of height to stoop over Charlie's smaller, stouter 5' 4". "Just look at how upset you've made her!" Itera might not have looked upset at all, actually.

[Itera]

Itera blamed her defenselessness on the three great big platters in her arms. They couldn't be put down because the table was way over there, they can't be stacked because that would crush the more delicate entries, and they couldn't be thrown into Charles' face because that would make Bill very upset with Itera. Not that Itera wasn't planning on having Bill very upset with her later today after borrowing a few choice things like the rather fancy serving spoons that she saw in the cabinet in the kitchen, but right now was the time for pretending to be a good girl and moving in the crowd to see who's got what.. So she bore with the pinch and stifled a yelp; there would always be a price to be extracted later.

She was still halfway through a thought of vengeance when the (barely) taller girl's arm went right around her shoulder. A flush flew across her face in an instant. For Itera, this was a very unusual sort of thing to happen because one simply does not spend more than a few days in Tenger Jerhel without becoming used to all sorts of sudden contact from just about everyone around; it counted as one of the unofficial popular past-times of that realm. Something was different about this arm and its owner, though.

Charles edged back away from the two-headed bundle of fury and embarrassment, correctly reading and then completely misinterpreting Itera's sudden, interesting shade of pink. With an impossibly insincere expression of contrition, he said, "'Ey! Lookee, I didn't mean nothin' by anythin'." His tie was now in a sad, kneaded state of tension. "Melissa's never gotten-"

"Valerie's new today, sod-for-brains. What, you've seen her before?" Jordan had more or less materialized right behind Charles, apparently having used the secret tavernly arts to eavesdrop from clear across the yard. "Picking on the new girl. What's wrong with you?"

"I... I didn't think it-"

Pendant. Something was bugging the inside of Itera's head, like she's forgotten something really important and it had something to do with the pendant that she saw on Resolve when she lowered her head to hide that blush. She stared at the little thing with all of her attention, trying to recall... something. Henry noticed her staring nonstop at Resolve's bosom, looked at the arm, recalled the blush, put two and two together, and came up with a conclusion that he was proud of.

"That's right, you weren't thinking. Now apologize to Valerie already and keep your hands to your self, you drunkard."

"Errr..." Charles started composing his apology in his beer-muddled head.

"Oh Rez-z-z..." Henry called out, a toothy grin on his face, "You've got yourself an admirer, you ladykiller, you. I'd say it was at first sight, but you started it with the chivalrous business. Just look at her face! Precious!"

[Resolve]

Resolve had just noticed Itera's preoccupation with something in her chestal region when Henry had to go flap his jaws about it, thereby spreading the joy of embarrassment to the rescuer. Fortunately her skin tone concealed any hint of a blush. "Oh! Well, then." She glanced to pink Itera before looking back to Charles, who'd been tripped up in the composition of his apology by the thought of lesbians. A glare brought him right back to task.

"Sorry, Valerie," Charles mumbled. That was elaborate as it got before the food in her hands caught his eye and he relieved her of one of the trays, wandering off with it and finding a seat in the shade where he guarded it most covetously.

At this point the drink was going to Resolve's head and her attention span was becoming increasingly shorter. Flattery won out over whatever fury she had left for Charles and she took one of Itera's remaining trays to help, carrying it over to the table of refreshments where ravenous guests emptied it almost immediately. "You'll get used to guys like that," she said to Itera, hoping to reassure her somehow of her fate to be manhandled by patrons. "You've just got to learn to speak up for yourself! It's the mousey ones that get taken advantage of. Now, here."

Resolve stepped up to Itera, pulled out a coin, closed her fingers around it, and opened her hand to reveal nothing but air on her palm. Magic! (Usually people were very impressed by this party trick.) She then reached behind Itera's ear to extract the same-self coin. "Your first tip," she offered with a grin. Upon close inspection the object was a bit off from the usual Corone mint, but it was shiny and silver nonetheless.

Henry had spectated this from behind a fresh mug of beer and sighed with a roll of the eyes, thinking to himself that such a trick was best saved for awkward uncles to bestow upon children. He wasn't aware that Resolve took no cheap shortcuts to create the illusion. That thought had barely concluded when Jordan interjected. "Where are George and Eugene?"

"Oh, you know." Henry's voice was cut off by a shrill squeal that erupted from the end of the yard occupied by a casual game of croquet. Anthony's great-great-aunt Myrtle, nearly blind at a ripe eighty-nine years of age, was leading the game against Grandpa Saylor and Shaky Jake, Trayas' very own town drunk. Myrtle was about to plow Jake's ball into the lily pond when what she thought was her ball sprouted feet and walked away. Not far off Charles was wrestling to keep his feast out of the mouths of half a dozen swarming little creatures and children laughed everywhere, at least until they attempted to pick up the balls of joy and find their fingers pricked as the creatures recoiled.

Eugene's family consisted of hedgehog breeders and he and George had snuck in a crate of the fiends, letting them loose to add a much-needed jolt of life to the otherwise pleasantly relaxed gathering. It was beyond Resolve what use anyone had for the animals, considering them useless in pretty much every way. They weren't even big enough to make a good snack. (At least she assumed this, as Eugene wouldn't let her put that to the test.)

Barbara wasn't very happy with this development and Anthony was fortunate that the temperamental woman's first rage as a newlywed wasn't directed toward himself. She shook a couple furballs out of her petticoats and made made a beeline for the refreshment table, croquet mallet in hand, presumably to assault the offenders who were in the midst of obtaining victory beverages. Itera and Resolve were soon caught in the crossfire of a battle of words, the bride wielding her found weapon rather precariously in the range of their heads, critters scurrying about their feet.

[Itera]

Supposedly, the Felixes export the hedgehogs to some sort of gourmet merchant uplands of here. Supposedly, that fellow has built up several brands of strange and edible things under the guise of traditional dishes from far-off lands. Whatever tradition hedgehogs made up, it wasn't here since the Felixes have never hosted or contributed to a dinner party with anything containing hedgehog. Although one supposes that it really is not possible to tell what makes up the meatish pink bits inside proper sausages.

Her arms newly freed, Valerie/Itera turned around, about to make some kind of inquiry regarding the pendant that Resolve was wearing, and found herself stopped short by an unexpected sort of encouragement. Mousey? Her? Well, she's of a mind to break then and there to let someone know just how mousey she was. One does not survive long in Tenger Jerhel by being timid and certainly one does not receive the distinguishment of being a Greater Fairy by being mousy. Itera thought of an appropriate retort, faced Resolve, looked into those blue eyes.

The words died unspoken. She took the presented coin and looked at it with some small amount of awe. A smile crossed Itera's face as she made to pocket the coin and to retrieve the one empty serving platter to take back to the kitchen. A moment later, all hedgehog broke loose. The critters scattered from the impeding threat of malleting, tipping over their shipping basket in the process, and scattered all across the yard. Itera did not scream. She was not the type to scream at every little thing, because she has seen quite a lot of strange things before. However, this did not mean that she was incautious.

Itera held out her platter and, using the coin, drew a line down its bottom face. Mostly unseen, a purple-edged hole in space opened up there as smoothly as if the coin's edge had been made of extraordinary sharp razors. She had chosen the location of the other end of the rift very carefully, directly beneath the second chair around the supper table in the mess of furniture that she called a house residing inside her own little dimension; being this close to it meant that she knew exactly where everything was and could put a rift exactly where she meant to. To the outside observer, what it looked like was that she took Resolve's tip, scratched the bottom of the platter, and a sturdy wooden chair fell out.

Melissa ran past, yelling something about hedgehogs having fallen into the punch bowl. General pandemonium engulfed, fueled by the children chasing the poor things in every which direction. They've learned not to grab them by hand, but instead to catch them using three or four napkins together. For the few slower children who did not manage to grab a napkin, they had small sticks and twigs in hand, the better to poke the hedgehogs, surely. Like any well-experienced prankster, the Idiot Five were very halfheartedly participating in the general attempt to repel the invaders and doing a passable job of not falling on the ground in stitches.

Very carefully and very deliberately, Itera lifted the hem of her skirt. Very carefully and very deliberately, she put one booted foot and then the other on top of the chair's seat. Very quietly, she shut the violation of space on the bottom of the serving platter. Then, and only then, did she say something to Resolve from a lofty position of safety.

"Thank you very much, miss... err... Rezzz?"

Whoosh. A mallet swished by Itera's elbow and passed near Resolve's head. Barbara had arrived in pursuit of Eugene, in particular. Whoosh. The bride had a fairly impressive arm; one wonders what she's done to deserve it. Whoosh.

Tamara, having borrowed a pencil and sheet of parchment off of Adam's supply, had backed up against a fence and was busily sketching. Perhaps she'll paint something later from the impressions sketch, something named along the lines of, "Hedgehogs". It might even be her first piece to be shown beyond Trayas, knowing how fond certain critics are of the absurd. Whatever it became, it would mostly likely feature some imagery of Kent squirming in the grass as Diana tried to get a spiny little problem out of his trousers while keeping him in said trousers.

A hedgehog toddled by underneath the chair. Itera drew back a little on the chair, "As much as I appreciate the thought behind the neat trickery here, they're just a little... spiny. Does this happen often here?" She relaxed a bit after the menace to fabric passed and then scooted a bit to the side, "I think there's room for one more up here..."

She only needed to get Resolve close enough, and then she can borrow something perfectly easily.

[Resolve]

"You are very welcome, Valerie," Resolve replied, glancing in the direction of Barbara's approach just in time to dodge a stray swing of her croquet mallet. "Poor Anthony!" Resolve commented once the woman was out of earshot, mostly to herself. She didn't know either of the newlyweds, but had a feeling it took rather interesting relationship dynamics for anyone to want to join himself to someone so violently inclined. But she wouldn't judge, at least not when it was so entertaining.

Anthony was actually the first person to climb a tree, feigning a will to assist in collecting the creatures by getting a bird's eye view of the place, but it was obvious he was shaking in his fancy new trousers out of fear of the things. It was clear at this point that Barbara was going to be the rodent-catcher of the household, most likely along with spider-squisher, ant-stomper, and attic-squirrel-exterminator. She didn't seem to mind her groom's show of cowardice as she continued to chase after Eugene, however. He tripped over squirming Kent, almost landed on a couple of his family's precious livestock, spilled his beer on Hermine's dress, and covered his head pitifully as Barbara showered him with whole-hearted curses and sharp jabs.

Resolve would have found that hilarious, but she was preoccupied with watching Itera's own little magic trick. Now, how did a serving girl learn how to do that? A bit jealous of the other girl's control over her abilities Resolve was tempted to sulk, but the opportunity was too good to waste. Maybe she could help her with her own troubles. Compared to the wonky little coin she crafted, conjuring a sturdy chair was something to impress. She watched "Valerie" climb onto the piece of furniture and was about to say something when the other girl spoke up.

"I believe this is the second time, but at this rate, it'll become tradition." A hedgehog skittered across Resolve's foot and she punted it mercilessly several feet away. Eugene had been pretty sore at her the last time she hurt one of his hedgehogs (but you know, it shouldn't have been in her chair in the first place), so she was a little relieved when it rolled over back onto its feet and scampered away underneath the refreshment table. She then glanced up to Valerie who now towered over her by a couple feet. "Oh. Yeah, sure." It was probably for the best that she didn't do that again, and she silently wondered if there would be any casualties today.

Once she'd climbed up onto the chair Resolve used the opportunity to get a good look at the mayhem and snickered as Hermine stomped past in her spoiled dress, staring daggers at Resolve as if everything was her fault. Barbara was dragging Eugene across the lawn by the scruff of his shirt and Henry was helping great--great-Aunt Myrtle out of the lily pond, which she'd fallen in as her croquet partners had made way for higher ground. George was in a tree alongside Anthony, but only because he didn't feel like actually helping.

But Resolve's mind wasn't as amused by all of this as she'd hoped. Now she was fixated on one thing. "Hey, Val," she said, looking to the girl who shared her perch. To fit together they were facing each other which made for an awkwardly close conversation, but she didn't seem to mind the intrusion of personal space. "How did you do that? With the tray."

[Itera]

"Ah! You noticed!" Valerie/Itera's tone was odd, pitched in a strange place between the three poles of "Goodness, I'm glad that effort didn't go to waste. Isn't it lovely?", "Dear me, someone has spotted my nefarious plan. Quickly, think of a distraction!", and "That was a simple bait. I have you now, my pretty." Of course, there was none of the requisite moustache-twirling associated with any of those ideas, so the effect was more of a grin the size of the half-moon appearing on Itera's face. She positively beamed at her victim, "My pappa taught me how to use a tray to make things! It's really very easy. First, you focus your mind. Tenderly whisper the words of the spell into the tray. Point it at where you want. Then unleash your construction of love!"

She nodded to reinforce her Outrageous Lies and the movement upset her balance just a little in this small space. For safety (hers), she decided to hold Rez with both hands. This progressed immediately into a double-armed hug, "Thank you so much! Nobody ever gave me money before! They always-"

Hermine stormed past Gregory trying to coax a pair of hoglets out of his violin, pushed her way through the stairs where Edith was watching with rapt confusion with a cakebox in hand, and then was bashed roundly over the head with an enormous schlognwurst[1] when Valerie Dartwright came bounding through the front door with it.

"Oh! I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

"Mneeea? Get out of my way!" Hermine pushed past and out into the street, chasing after an inconsolable Charlotte.

"Hey, who're you?" Bill came out of the kitchen again, having emptied a dustpan full of hedgehogs into a cage and going for round four, "Did Lurwig send you?" It was an obvious conclusion given the cargo.

"No, my pappa sent me. He's Harold Dartwright. He says that the sausage is for you and I'm to help you out today for the wedding." She looked around, "It looks exciting."

There was a pause while gears churned in Bill head. "... but you're already here, lass. With a ham. You mean... ?" The gears went the rest of the way, and then drew a practical conclusion. "Well! Never mind that. Glad to have you here, girl. Heh, you're a lot cuter than when I first saw you, when you was a wee baby. Grab a napron off of that rack and help get these blasted hedgehogs all cleaned up. Oh, and there's another gal here named Valerie today, helping out. Just don't get confused!"

"Hedgehogs have fallen into the punch bowl!" Melissa ran in from the yard, "We haven't got enough to make another! Who's that?"

"I'm Valerie Dartwright."

Melissa's brains churned much faster than her father's as she took in the new girl's simple, pale green dress and mentally compared it with the frilly, ribbony affair on the other 'Valerie'. "Oh!" Then she jumped to the less useful conclusion, because her brains were much less experienced than her father's. "The nerve of that girl!" She ran back out, punch forgotten.

"I think that you had better follow her, Valerie. Watch your step."

A soggy great-great-Aunt Myrtle, earnestly inquiring as to where her ball went, was escorted past Itera's chair. Reverend Sobini was assuring her that they'll be able to find it later, just as soon as Eugene - he gave a sharp glance at Eugene being dragged past going the other way - cleans up his pets.

"-so that's why it has to be a tray. I'm not supposed to be telling anyone, but you're nice. You can keep a secret, right?" Itera was saying, having stopped squeezing Resolve and was not simply holding her arms out of safety and not-quite-sisterly friendship. She still had that incredible grin on her face.

"VALERIE!" Melissa threw this angered screech across the yard, confusing the Valerie trailing after her.

[1] German for "Hitting Sausage". That is, a sausage made for beating people over the head. It is named so because of its stiffness and heaviness. The previous sentences are lies.

[Resolve]

Resolve looked at Itera a bit oddly after her explanation of this familial "tray magic". "Really? That simple?" She figured something like that was much more complicated, but maybe she should just give it a shot? Without thinking about it she looked around for the closest available tray to give it the old college try, at least until she suddenly found arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Oh, you're quite welcome," Resolve replied to Itera's thanks, teetering a bit on the edge of their shared foot space as she suddenly found the other girl latched onto her like a koala. For some reason this felt very restricting and she wriggled uncomfortably in the fae's grasp as much as she dared without sending them both plummeting to the grass, where they'd likely both hurt themselves and as well as few critters.

Charles had given up on saving his snacks and hedgehogs picked at what was left while he gaped at the ladies embracing up on a chair. It was quite a romantic scene amongst the chaos and Tamara was making a masterpiece of it. It was a good thing Barbara didn't know her position as star of her own wedding had been lost to a couple of crashers or they would've faced wrath much worse than that of the approaching kitchen aide.

Meanwhile, Itera was finishing her explanation and though she was now only holding Resolve by the arms, it somehow felt even more personal. Henry watched on and sent her an encouraging thumbs up, but she had to admit to herself in that moment what she could to no one else: she was all talk when she flirted, and this was growing rather awkward. "Ah, well, I can keep a secret. What are the w––"

Then Melissa interrupted. "Or should I say false Valerie! What business do you have in coming here? We run a clean operation and don't need little con artists like you sullying our reputation!" She stood at the base of the chair and tugged on Itera's offensively frilly frock, nearly yanking them off their sanctuary. Resolve held her steady.

At this point Hermine had given up on her beer-stained dress and returned with Charlotte, whose inconsolableness wasn't all that hopeless, after all. She'd agreed to come back to the party for an extra slice of cake though, unbeknownst to them, it was long gone thanks to Shaky Jake. He'd filled the pockets of his slacks and jacket, leaving the rest to be sullied by the little, grubby hands of children and the even littler feet of Felix Family Hogs, and had taken off homewards with a pilfered bottle of wine just moments ago.

"Now, what's this?" Hermine intruded, glaring up at the girls with a smirk. She'd been waiting for a chance to put Resolve in her place and here it was. "Melissa, dear, it appears these two are friends. Perhaps they have conspired against the generosity of our hosts!"

At this point, Resolve had to think fast. She wasn't particularly interested in discovering what sort of cruel and unusual punishment the combined demented minds of Melissa and Hermine could devise, and so it was time to make her exit. Well, their exit. She couldn't very well leave Itera behind to the wolves, even if Resolve wondered if she might deserve it somehow.

To their great fortune, a distraction presented itself at a perfectly opportune moment. Robert Mandat, thus far the quietest member of the Idiot Five, was now causing a ruckus as he thought it would be just the cutest thing to drop a hedgehog down the front of Jordan's apron. He'd fancied her for quite some time, you see, and what better ice breaker than to shove stuff into her clothing? (There was a reason why he was eternally single.) The poor girl was deathly afraid of rodents, however, and though they weren't quite relatives of the mice that threw her into a fit in the kitchen, it was close enough to elicit a blood-curdling scream. The sudden shock of it caused Anthony to fall from the tree with a resounding thud and pitiful cry, an event which finally rallied the attention of most of the remaining guests and drew stares away long enough to make an escape.

Resolve grabbed Itera by the hand, helped her down off the stool, and brushed past their accusers toward the exit. Melissa seemed fine leaving them be as she had joined Meredith in fussing over an emotionally injured Jordan, but Hermine wasn't about to let her arch-nemesis slip through her fingers so easily. "You stop right this instant!" She ordered, stepping in front of Resolve and standing her ground as firmly as the rules of ladylike etiquette allowed. The other young woman hadn't lasted long enough in the school to have picked up such habits, however, and without regret held a merry little fist rather close to Hermine's angled little face. She unconsciously covered her nose protectively, blaming Resolve's last act of violence for its slight crookedness, and stared cross-eyed and speechlessly through her fingers.

"Lay off, Minnie," Resolve grimaced, then tightened her grip on Itera as she led her away to the side gate, where they could hopefully leave with few run-ins. When they rounded the side of the house she paused, gave her a long sideways glance, and spoke again. "So. Valerie." She didn't need to ask for elaboration on the deceit; her expression said it all.

[Itera]

"So, me." Itera nonsensically answered. She liked Rez because Rez was, in a sense, new and different, therefore interesting. It wasn't the energy; Itera has met plenty of energetic girls before, many of them running furiously after her after she borrowed something of theirs. It wasn't the implied violence; Itera has met plenty of violent girls before, many of them throwing things furious after her when the running didn't keep up. It wasn't even the tone and attitude of her voice; Itera has noted that the voice is usually the last thing thrown at her from the distance. Rez had a je ne sais quoi about her very being that reminded Itera of home, of being fey. It was very interesting in that Itera could not put her finger on what it was, only that it must somehow be important.

So that means that until she finds out, Resolve is hers.

When Resolve continued to glare stonily at Itera and refuse to dignify the last answer with a further question, Itera giggled outright. She dropped her tray, edge-first, into thin air. Where it vanished, it left a long, thin, purple-edged hole into somewhere else entirely. The rift moved a little and dumped out Itera's folding fan from her home's closet directly into Itera's waiting hand. The fan shot open like a gun going off and hid Itera's ever-present, maddeningly wide grin. The rift closed.

"Why can't I also be Valerie? Such a pretty name."

Another stony glare, Itera leaned closer, her offensively frilly things sliding unctuously over each other into new and possibly fractal patterns. Resolve could see herself reflected in those huge, amber mirrors; she was glaring at herself with a most unamused expression. It was like all of her possible amusement had leaked out and had been soaked up by Itera, who might even now be drunk or at least a little tipsy.

The staring continued, the silence in the side gate's passageway interrupted only by a distant thumping of croquet mallets and what sounded like Gregory Poorswift refining a new and brilliant impromptu Hedgehog Song scored for violin, keyboard, drums, and two hedgehogs.

Itera tugged lightly at her wrist to no avail, Resolve's grip was like a vise with all the tenacity of a cornered wolverine. "Rez..." she drawled out, "I shall tell you another name if you'll tell me all of yours."

Names have power. To give a fairy, especially a greater fairy such as Itera, your whole and true name is to give away your freedom. Freedom from worry that she's plotting some amusing diversion involving you and a disappearing front doorstep. Freedom from fear that she's going to show up for dinner, uninvited, and bring a pot roast of mysterious origins as her contribution. Something tweaked in Resolve, maybe the echoed caution of her ancestors, and she stood there glaring yet still.

"That's not very nice, is it? It's so hard to play when we don't know what to call each other." Itera said, possibly pouting behind that fan of hers. "Or maybe you're just afraid to say. Let's go somewhere a little quieter, just the two of us, and I'll explain everything. I'll even tell you my name, how's that?"

She walked for the gate, edging past Resolve while the other was still shifting her grip on Itera's wrist. The thumping of the fairy's boots syncopated with a rousing encore of the Hedgehog Song, which now seems to have a choral section.

Two feet away, Itera stopped cold. She could smell the iron... who makes a garden gate out of iron in the middle of a wooden fence, anyway? For the first time, Resolve could hear something other than amusement out of the infuriating impostor. It was a sudden intake of breath like someone who had just smelled brimstone and wasn't sure whether or not they were quite alive. Whatever the inexplicable reason for Itera's hesitation, Resolve felt that she should take advantage of it. She turned her hand and Itera's arm twisted up behind the back, thoroughly pinned against ruffled cloth.

"Yes. Let's." Resolve took a step forward, pushing Itera along.

"no..."

[Resolve]

Resolve didn't know what had gotten into her but something about not-Valerie was irritating, unsettling, puzzling. This combination of traits somehow made it seem acceptable to tease her a bit. She noticed the other girl's hesitance in approaching the gate and went ahead and pushed her further.

"Please stop," Itera pleaded as the feet closed in. Her shoes dug in the little dirt pathway to no avail; Resolve was stronger than she looked.

"Oh, come on. We need to get out of here before that Barbara catches wind of… whatever it was you did," Resolve replied, not letting up on Itera's pinned arm.

"No, really, I can't," Itera whimpered, tears welling in her eyes and the start of panicked sobs throbbing in her chest. Resolve noticed this and stopped.

"What in the world has gotten into you?" Resolve asked, stalling them just long enough for Hermine and Barbara to round the corner of the house. Barbara still had a mallet and Hermine was armed only with a deadly glare. It stared right through Resolve and suddenly she knew this wedding was also the site of one of the greatest overreactions of Corone's entire history. Or at least she thought it was, until their alleged crime was announced.

Barbara pointed menacingly with her weapon. "Halt! Thieves!"

Resolve glared at Itera and Itera shrugged. Not-Valerie had been planning a heist of sorts, but apparently someone had beaten her to it. But, of course, having lied about her identity wasn't exactly convincing of her innocence. It didn't take much for the kitchen staff to make the jump from missing silver to blaming the peculiar girl who'd snuck into a serving position.

Hermine and Barbara weren't alone, either –– they just had the privilege of being first on the scene. Within seconds a crowd began collecting behind them: Bill, Melissa, Jordan, real-Valerie, Henry (who earned a look of betrayal on Resolve's part), amongst others. All seemed ready to accuse, and those who weren't, seemed to just be up for the bit of excitement, as the novelty of the hedgehogs was dwindling. As they were here at the side gate, none were present to spot sneaky Grandpa Saylor creeping out the front door with jingling pockets. The fuss over Anthony had been the perfect opportunity for the perfect crime, or so he thought. Gambling debts, you know.

Upon witnessing the gathering crowd, Resolve understood it was not worth arguing. She also realized at this point that she'd let go of Itera, but now it was Itera who was firmly attached to her own arm. Not-Valerie appeared to be experiencing some combination of fearful apprehension, most likely residual from the threat of iron to fae skin, and surprised amusement.

Resolve turned, threw open the gate, and ran. Itera tagged along for the fun of it, the iron obstacle avoided as she followed closely behind her new friend. They were pursued, of course.

Neither of the girls knew Trayas particularly well, so they took off blindly down the street hoping an opportunity to hide would present itself. Resolve attempted to sprint in effort to lose the slower members of the angry mob, but Itera wanted nothing to do with running and that, combined with her grip on Resolve's arm, created a rather unwieldy anchor.

"Good grief," Resolve sighed, but at this point she and Itera were comrades of sorts whether she liked it or not, and she didn't want to deal with the guilt that would come with leaving her to the wolves. She stopped and motioned for Itera to climb on her back. "Hurry!"

Itera had much more efficient means of escaping their pursuers but was having entirely too much fun to spoil it yet. She hopped on, arms wrapped securely about her neck, and Resolve fumbled a bit trying to get a decent hold on her legs with the hindrance of her petticoats, but managed. Soon they were hightailing it down Main Street, where the buildings were closer together and allowed more opportunity for getting out of sight, and Resolve was doing admirably well considering her load. The slower of the angry mob were starting to lag behind, but ever-energetic Barbara, shockingly athletic Hermine, and three time track medalist Henry were hot on their heels.

Resolve gasped for breath as they rounded a corner onto a street that led out of town and toward the hilly forest that lay in the valley between Trayas and Radasanth. Resolve remembered that Lottie would be going back through that way later with the wagon. If they could just lose the others, they could hitch a ride when the merchant passed by on her way back to the city.

[Itera]

"You're pretty fast~!"

Resolve didn't have an answer for this. For one, she was too busy trying to stay breathing while running with Itera on her back. For the other, Itera had commented in an absurdly languid and amused voice that was quite irritating to someone who was really sweating for Itera's own benefit.

"But they'll catch us if you keep running this way."

Resolve looked at the largely straight run out of town and admitted that her passenger was probably right. Her legs were sore and her breath was shallow, without corners to dodge around they'll both doubtlessly be caught. "I hope it won't come to that... you could try running yourself... What... wrong... you..?" She puffed.

Put me down and let me help." Suddenly, Resolve didn't have much of a choice, because the arms around her neck had detached themselves and were doing something else behind her. It was something that tingled and raised the hairs on the back of her neck in response to maybe something magical. She let go of the legs and skidded to a halt, turning just in time to see Not-Valerie holding that big metal tray over her head with both hands. Where did she even put-

"Hold still~" And then Itera hit Resolve over the head with the tray.

There was no sensation of impact, but there was a hint of regal purple light flickering by. Resolve put down her arms shielding her head and stared. The first thing she noticed was that she was now standing in a little room of some kind. The second thing, which really ought to be the first, was that the walls had a terrible sense of distance to them, as if they weren't really walls but rather illusions of walls. The third thing, which really should also be the first thing, was that the walls, ceiling, and floor were pitch black and covered with red eyes looking at her.

There was a groioioioioing noise like a tray hitting the ground behind Resolve. She turned around and saw Itera standing in front of a purple-edged hole, the other side of the hole looked like the world that she knew, the one where everything still made sense. Barbara, Hermine, and Henry sprinted one after another across the view and headed down the road out of town. They were followed by perhaps a half-dozen others.

"What are you?"

"Itera. Tea?" Somewhere in the back of her head, Resolve remembered that the room also had two chairs, a table, and a tea set. The chairs were exactly like the one she had seen Not-Valerie conjure with a tray.

"Itera?" Itera took Resolve's question as an affirmative, poured a cup of tea - Resolve noticed that this was one of the Seymours' tea sets, which explained how the tea was still hot - and handed it to Resolve. Then she poured one for herself.

"Yes~. That's my name. I hope that you have more interesting questions. But you really should drink." Itera had sat down in one of the chairs, sipped at her tea, propped up a chin in one hand, and was studying her guest with those amused-looking yellow eyes. Resolve finished her cup as quickly as she dared.

"Oh, they're getting away~"

Resolve was just formulating what that comment meant when there as another flicker of purple and she found herself outside again, wearing a tray balanced on her head. Itera was standing next to her, still holding a cup of tea and the saucer that it went into. She glanced up at the tray, "I should hold onto that if I were you. It's important!" Then she yelled at the distant figures of the flagging pursuit party.

"HEY! OVER HERE!"

This time, Itera jogged, although rather slowly because she was still sipping at her tea.

[Resolve]

This was all going rather ridiculously. Resolve had hoped for a pleasant and relaxing afternoon shooting the breeze with some old and new friends, but instead she was guest to the most bewildering tea party of her short life. After leaving the magical room said tea party seemed to be continuing back outside, her companion –– apparently named Itera –– sipping her tea in the midst of pursuit as if she wasn't actually concerned about being caught.

Resolve was, though. She didn't underestimate what cruel and unusual punishments the combined, troubled minds could concoct. Obviously Itera had some tricks up her sleeves –– fancier tricks than a servant should know, Resolve reckoned –– and she realized that trying to help the peculiar girl was a waste of time and energy.

It took a moment, once returning to the normal world, for Resolve's wits to gather themselves. She set her half-full teacup back on its saucer to remove the tray from her head. She looked at it oddly, inspecting the bottom as if searching for something, but found nothing. "How…?"

She'd been so lost in thought that Itera had actually gotten ahead of her, the small mob now closing in. Resolve looked at the cup in her hand. Seymour's cup. It was true! Not-Valerie really did steal something!

Henry, with his long runner's legs, broke out in front of the group in a sprint to catch Resolve, who was now lagging sorrowfully behind Itera thanks to a bout of confusion. The dark-haired girl downed the remainder of her tea and tossed the cup and saucer like a hot potato to Henry, who fumbled to catch it and nearly ran head-on into a lamp post. Resolve took this opportunity to make her own break for it, her long legs carrying her efficiently up to and right past Itera. She didn't look back to help her this time. Itera could obviously help herself.

As if fate understood the stressful circumstances, it threw Resolve a bone. Around the corner Lottie was rambling through at her usual easy pace, having passed through the town square without seeing her travel buddy from earlier, and was surprised to see Resolve trot up bearing a serving tray. (Resolve really had no idea why she was still carrying it, she just hadn't thought about it.)

"You should've hollered, I would've stopped and waited," Lottie said, halting her cart.

"No, don't stop! You didn't see me. I'm not here," Resolve said with little explanation as she climbed around into the back of Lottie's covered cart. "Actually, tell them I went into the woods," her voice came again, muffled under the canvas tarp.

"What, now?"

"Shhh!"

Lottie shrugged, glanced to the approaching crowd, and they moved onwards.

[Itera]

The thing about having an big crowd chasing you is that it is very hard for a big crowd to stop chasing you. If the fellow in front stops because, say, there was an elephant barreling down the street in the opposite direction, it would take some time before the rest of them soil their pants and stop shoving the poor fellow forward. Itera knew this very well from all the experiences that she has had mildly jogging away from mobs ranging from the exuberant to the mildly irritated to the downright murderous.

The important thing is to remember everything that you passed while going in one direction. For example, Itera remembered the well that her erstwhile mount had carried her past on the way down the hill. The well had a winch, the winch had some rope, and the rope had a bucket at the end. As she passed it again, Itera glanced in the bucket's direction and twiddled the Boundary of Motion and Stillness. She came to stillness. The bucket leaped off and dashed its way across the street with the wooden winch protesting squeakily the entire time.

Itera turned around and set the cup down in her saucer. Twenty feet. Henry had recovered from his near encounter with the lamp post and was now rapidly coming up through the pack, though nobody seemed to dare to get ahead of Barbara now.

Itera tenderly tore open a rift from behind her back to the bucket laying innocently on its side in the grass off of the road. She wore the amused expression of someone to whom all of life was a constant joke and everything is always in good fun. Her smiling yellow eyes locked with Barbara's furious blue ones. Ten feet.

As the crowd reached the limp rope, Itera reached a hand through the rift and grasped the rope, pulling it up and taut. There was a tremendous noise and a tangled pile of people slid to a halt a few steps in front of the fairy.

She shut the rift. Her fan opened with a bang and concealed half of her face, "Such energetic people~ Such dirty people, too." There was a thumping noise and a grunt as Hermine forcibly removed Henry from her chest.

"Today is supposed to be a happy day. Let's not get upset about who stole what from whom, hmm~?" More people disentangled themselves from each other and someone tried to wake up the very crushed Barbara. Itera decided that it was about time.

"I'm Itera, and Rez has been my unwitting pawn the entire time. She's delightfully innocent!" She started sinking towards the ground, disappearing into somewhere else, "If you give her trouble, I'll steal your most precious things~" Then she was gone without a trace.

--

Lottie's cart rumbled back into motion. She reasoned that whatever incident just happened over there, it was best not to be seen gawking at the angry, dusty, mildly bruised mob. She resolutely pretended that there was nothing particular under the cart and made straight for the edge of town. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite true that she had an extra girl aboard. She actually had an extra girl and one head aboard.

Itera's head poked out of the bottom of the tray next to Rez, coming nose-to-nose with the girl. "Helloooo~"

[Resolve]

Just as Resolve was beginning to feel secure again, the arguments of the toppled mob fading into distant complaints as Lottie's wagon rumbled down the road, Itera returned with a bright greeting.

"Would you like some more tea? It's rather cold now, though," Itera tittered. "Oh, but Rez, what have you done with your cup?"

Resolve gaped, grimaced, and her palm met Itera's face with force as she tried to push the offending face and its frilly cap back through its tray-portal. "Bugger off!"

Itera's face contorted as Resolve smushed her cheek, the fairy reluctant to abandon her new friend. "Aww, you don't mean that," she whined, her voice muffled beneath her cheek and the girl's hand. Resolve glared at Itera's squashed face, stormy blue eyes meeting mischievous amber, and the fairy pouted. "We're friends now, partners in crime! Literally, almost! Though, I did plead for your innocence."

Lottie overheard the second voice. "Who're you talking with, lass?"

Resolve smirked, her nose crinkling. "No one," she replied convincingly, before lifting the tarp and tossing the tray from the wagon and onto the road with the heft and glee of a professional discus thrower. Itera squealed as it whirled through the air, closing the rift, and the object rattled as it caught on bumps and stones before finding its new home with a sloshy splash in a roadside gully.

Properly convinced she was now rid of the strange kleptomaniac, Resolve leaned back to enjoy the ride until she could go up top with Lottie, which wouldn't be for a short ways yet. Making a pillow of a bolt of fabric in the merchant's wares she hummed a wedding march and closed her eyes, hoping she could catch Henry alone in his next pitstop in Radasanth to show him just what she thought of traitorous friends.

Itera didn't feel particularly disheartened by the way Resolve had spurned her. They were friends now, and that was that. Itera had also planted a rift on Resolve's person earlier during their intimate moment on the chair, so she was also comforted by the knowledge that she could drop in for a visit anytime she so pleased through a convenient portal in the cloth of the sari.

She settled down in a wingback chair in her little room with the last of the lukewarm tea and sighed happily. Yes. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

[Zook Murnig]

Bells in Trayas - Judgment

Story - 19/30
Storytelling - 7/10 The story was a relatively simple one at the start, but it twisted and turned in unexpected, but nonetheless forseeable, directions. While things got a little confusing at some points, that was not a detriment to this category. I would also like to congratulate you two on making a non-epic story, one of an attempted theft gone wrong, into something truly enjoyable to read.
Pacing - 6/10 Though short, this thread managed to make a lot happen within the page and a half of posts. However, nothing felt rushed, and nothing moved too slowly. There were a couple of instances of backtracking between posts, but I noticed that in the last few posts you had resolved that between yourselves, so I did not dock for it.
Setting - 6/10 Not a whole lot was said about the actual physical setting of the town or the tavern where the wedding reception took place. However, it's often forgotten by writers that the denezins of a place can be used to flesh out the setting wonderfully, and the two of you did just that. I got a sense of personality from each person, and that helped both this and Persona. I would, however, like to see more description and interaction with the setting in the future.

Characterization - 19/30
Persona - 7/10 Resolve, I got a very good feel for your character from the moment she was introduced, and it carried through to the end of the thread. I appreciated that she was not instantly friends with this trickster fairy the moment she revealed her true identity, and did her best to get rid of Itera by the end for all the trouble she had caused. As well, Itera did a good job of playing out the idea of a mischievous and far from benign fae, and I personally enjoyed the reference to traditional folklore in her fear of the iron gate. Towards the end, it got a little out of hand with the trickery and tea parties, but otherwise it was a good showing all around. As I said in Setting, the background characters all really shone. Enough detail was given to their motivations and behaviors to make them stand out, but they never upstaged the main characters.
Action - 7/10 Some would argue that there was very little action in this thread. I would disagree with that, and though there was no real fight scene, I saw a lot of work done with using your abilities creatively. The activity of the locals entertained and played into the major events of the story, as well.
Communication - 5/10 This is hard for me to judge in this case, because while there was some great dialogue and body language at the beginning and middle of the thread, the last few posts had some of the strangest exchanges, including when Itera finally introduced herself for who she really was, and insisted that Resolve drink some tea. There's not much I can say to help with this other than to take your time getting in tune with your character, and imagine how a reader will interpret what is being said, whether through dialogue or body language.

Prose - 17/30
Technique - 5/10 I didn't see very much unusual language, and while the two of you seem to have a grasp of basic English and how to make it work for you, you might want to look a little deeper into metaphor and other methods of spicing up your writing. I also wondered at the repeated use of the phrase "what fortune" in a single post by Itera, which was never repeated anywhere else. Was this going to be a running gag or catch phrase, and just got abandoned later?
Mechanics - 5/10 A few times Itera switched tenses, and there were a few misspellings. I was briefly confused by the use of "a napron" until I looked up "apron" on Wiktionary and found that its origins were originally just what you had used. I applaud the creativity, but be careful with this. Most judges wouldn't look up something like that, as it looked to be a simple typo spelling error. As well, be careful of run-on sentences and try to separate out unnecessary or potentially standalone clauses within your sentences.
Clarity - 7/10 Despite the number of things happening simultaneously, especially in the beginning, I had no problems understanding what was going on. There was a little hiccup in keeping track of things once the hedgehogs were loose, but as soon as Itera was found out by the real Valerie's arrival, everything was brought back to the main characters and I knew what was going on again. I would advise caution with the rifts, however, because it took me a second to catch onto what was happening when Itera brought the serving tray down on Resolve's head.

Wild Card - 6/10 Down the rabbit hole we go!

TOTAL - 61/100

Itera receives 651 EXP and 147 GP
Resolve receives 651 EXP and 147 GP

[Letho]

EXP/GP added.