Characters involved are: Luka (RED), Brin (ORANGE), Khiea (GREEN),
Logged by Unknown

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Fatima Castle, Courtyard
These sparring grounds are empty for now. One can go <south> to return to the outside of the Fatima Castle, and back <north> to the interior of the Castle.
Contents:
Khiea
Luka
Ah. If it's not one surprise visitor, it's another two. Perhaps things _will_ start picking up here, with Bart, and Sigurd back. The doubles of them wandering around were also an amusement, giving an almost festive atmosphere to the castle. It is what lets Brin forget for a while about committees, standing orders, quorum, and all that he has had to deal with, and try to have a life outside it. It is difficult to convince yourself you're no longer as zealous as before. Still, tonight is for relaxation, and Brin, having made the last of the arrangements himself, now sits at the rounds table, which sits like a solitary candlelit beacon in the centre of the fatima courtyard, where not a breeze stirs the candles, and the stars are its nightlight. "Well, everything seems to be in order. I suppose I should actually join you." He smiles, something he has tried to grow more accustomed to as late. He sits, draping a napkin across his knee.
Having come down here a few days ago--she's been up and down quite frequently, to tell the truth, what with the slow shift in local power to the blue-eyed Prime Minister Amaliel--but not in her official capacity in some time. And if some have noted the presence of large birds at night these days? The deserts harbored strange tales, after all. Luka laughs softly in appriciation to Brin, her Solarian jacket off and over the back of her chair so that her arms, bared from the lighter shift and skinsuit beneath, are brushed by the night air. "Do you have any of the marvelous vintages here, Brin?" she asks, cradling the still-wrapped present on her lap which bears Khiea's name in large, colorful letters. "I seem to remember that there were some remarkable whites. Ah, I'm sorry--is it against your standard to indulge in such a way, or should I have a glass alone?"
Listeners on Public:
Ryukumu
Sirus
Jalon
Collin
Brin
Ah, it is so veryvery -good- to be free! Not that Khiea minded her company on the not-Yggdrdasil in the least, but not being able to leave was rather boring. Or, well.. Being able to leave in the traditional sense, that is. Nonetheless, the so-called princess is just enthralled to be out and about again, regardless of reason or justification. But goodness, she can't be late for dinner, can she? Especially when Luka, of all people, is one of those rare souls that, regardless of how hard she wished, regardless of how hard she wanted, never showed up in the dream. Well! And so Khiea skips in--Occationally stumbling over her own feet, as if not quite used to her own feet now and then, but otherwise just looking the model of giddiness. And watch her rush, rush over to Luka with nothing more than a bright chime of, "Miss Luka!" For she hasn't seen her, at least through Khiea's eyes, for ages. Come to think of it, though, Khiea would be just as delighted to see her regardless of time, wouldn't she?
Brin smiles. "Of course, we'll see what we can do.", as a slight nod is given, and a figure in the shadows darts away toward the cellar entrance. "Don't worry, I think I shall join you, actually. Moderation is a virtue.", he grins, as a puffing, stumbling Khiea draws closer. "Ah, Hello, Khiea. It's been a while.", the smile remaining. At least, corporeally, it has, but no matter. Some do not like to speak of it, and he has found some to be at best wary of the dream. Still, Khiea seems at leat happirer, and Brin is none the less pleased for it. "It's nice to have visitors once in a while. Thank you for coming.", he intones, in voice now accustomed to welcoming, speaking, debating. No longer the retentive man he was, after what he has been through. As he finishes, a servant draws up to the table, wheeling a wine rack, with some suitably dusty bottles arranged neatly inside.
It's nice to not have to run and dash about all on your own, especially up and down all those stairs, isn't it? Luka laughs, enjoying the time off and able to be herself for a little while--or whatever approximates that--and moves the present from her lap to the table as she sees the new visitor. "Khiea!" she calls out, opening her arms should the girl want a hug. It's been quite some time since... Khiea was quite that size and wanted a hug. "Thank you for having us down," Luka adds softly. She, too, bears the relaxed drawl of one who can take their voice up for a weapon if needed and enjoys putting it down now save to enjoy the sound of things in the night air. "I do hope it isn't an imposition? Ah, how delightful," she notes, seeing the vintages on display. "Do you have a preference, Brin? I know I can trust your judgment and taste on such an issue," she adds with a laugh before turning her attention to the Princess. "And how have -you- been, Khiea?"
Perhaps its been a while, but.. Khiea wasn't able to see Luka for so very, very long! And so she but giggles delightedly and hugs Luka quickly if just for a greeting, all childish cheer all the while. And.. A present? For her? Ah, Khiea hasn't even noticed it yet! She's too busy with seeing all these people she's not seen in so long... Well, dream not included, at least for Brin. But still, isn't it nice to see someone when awake, too? "It -has- been a longlong while, Mister Brin! Its nice to see you again!" And a grin--What else? And she turns to Luka again at that, nodding lightly, "Oh, I'm quitequite wonderful, Miss Luka! Its just so very nice to be back!" Well, back out. "It was a fun vacation, but I really missed you!" And that is likely the only time someone has ever refered to being kidnapped as a vacation. But well.. Is that really a bad thing?
Brin nods, and casts an at best untrained eye over the rack, choosing by merit of amount of dust on the bottle, skilfully ignoring the cringe of the servant as he gently removes it from the rack, and hands it to him. The bottle opened, nd a glass is pored for Luka, and Brin gently indicates that she should taste it to see if it is good enough. "I don't call myself a connoisseur, but try this one.", he smiles, as the servant tearfully pours his finest vintage. "Well, we certainly picked the perfect night. Not a breeze. Not too cold, either". The weather, Brin? Surely you can think of something more engaging. "Things are going as well as can be expected here. How are you both doing? Keeping well, I hope". Chatter. And it is perfectly all right to chatter. That is what we're here for, is it not?
Good man, Brin. The ignoring of the cringe, not the choice--although that's a good one too. Luka lets Khiea go and pushes the brightly-wrapped gift towards her before reaching out with a languid hand to take up the glass, poised in her fingers as lightly as a soapbubble. She draws in a breath of the bouquet, and then takes the first delicate sip. Setting the glass half-down as she savors the taste, she demonstrates her approval with a smile to Brin. "It suits the weather perfectly. Please, I would be honored if you joined me. Go on, Khiea, open it if you'd like." With her other hand neatly in her lap, leaning back in the chair and legs crossed, Luka could have not a worry in the world save to savor this private dinner. "Khiea, will you be staying here for a while in Aveh? You're here with Hy--with Citan," she corrects herself mildly. "Will you be staying in the castle with Brin? And how has your time been here, by the way?" This is directed at the Etone-turned-minister.
"A present?" Oh, Khiea had hardly noticed it! But she eyes it curiously until its pushed gently towards her, at which point she takes it up with all the delicate care she can, as if worried that handling a present any other way would break it. And she grins then, and idly tugs out her chair from beneath the table with a foot against a leg of the chair--Certainly no one will mind if Khiea is a little informal today? Not like she, herself, truly ever is or was. "Oh, this's far too nice of you, Miss Luka! And.. And you're sure its okay?" A giggle there, as she turns to the present, and opens it.. Quite as carefully as children very seldom do. For she has no intention of tearing into it, leaving a happy papery mess where she sat. She opens it very slowly and carefuly while she talks, "Yep! Uncle Citan brought me here and.. And I don't really know! I hadn't considered that. Do you suppose anyone would mind if I stayed a while?" A pause then, "I really do need to find Mister Bart sometime, though! I don'
don't know if he worried or not, but he might as well know that I'm okay, right?" Not like Khiea was ever -not- okay on the not-Ygg. But that's beyond the point. She then resumes working at opening the present. Oo, what sort of neatneat thing did Miss Luka get her? How very nice of her!
Brin nods. "Yes, I was talking to Bart only a few days ago, he seemed well enough. Although, Make sure you get the right one. There are a few of them wandering about.", he grins. "Perhaps you could see the Musical while you're here. We'd love to have you.". The nod being interpreted by the servant, another glass is poured in front of Brin, as three steaming bowls begin their precarious way avross the courtyard toward the table. Soup has arrived, it seems. "It has been...a learning experience, Luka. Let's put it like that, for now?", the smile fades a little, and he drops his eyes to his wine as he takes a sip. "Let's say that there are a little too many cooks, that can't even agree on the flavour of the broth." smiles again, as he continues. "If you ask me, what we need, to continue the analogy, is a master chef.". The teetering parade draws up to the table, headed by a smiling man in a large important-looking hat. "Ah, speaking of which...", as the glass is moved to make way.
Good, good. "I'd love to attend the musical--Amaliel keeps telling me I -must- come, and I've been trying to drag everyone else out of their bolt-holes down. Ramsus in particular if I can get him," she makes a mock-sour face, and then laughs, watching Khiea unwrap, "and the Elements, of course. Citan and Khiea, naturally--it's good to be able to see you both here." Not that she didn't see them in Solaris. Cough. Brightening upon sight of the soup as the gift--a rainbow colored dress with gauzy butterfly wings that attract and reflect the light--is unwrapped, Luka nods in sympathy. "I understand what it can be like. Sometimes you wonder if you can get -anything- done at all, or if it would be brighter to simply throw yourself or a chair out the window," she notes quietly, then setting aside her glass and making room for the soup. "Ah, this looks wonderful... what is it?"
"What would you suggest, to wear such a hat?" she adds, even softer than that.
Khiea can not help but giggle a little at that comment, "I know! I wouldn't mind seeing any of them, really, but I would rather talk to -Mister- Bart." Although seeing Tifa would be rather sad--Khiea sincerely hopes she didn't hurt her feelings by leaving? Oh, how terrible that'd be! But, well, things needed to be done. And Khiea was not, how to say, exactly the one who decided to go at that time now, was she? Not like she minded either way. "The musical? I've heard a little about that. Do think it'd be all right if I came?" And that thought is cut utterly short as Khiea opens the present, and her muted little gasp at the sight of it turns into a delighted, delighted giggle, "Oh, wow! Its so very -very- pretty! Thank you soso much, Miss Luka!" Ah, how wonderful! Any converstaion, and any arrival of food for that matter, is completely lost for the moment while Khiea looks over this present. Look, look, if she shifts it a bit, the light catches differently!
A nod to the chef, who remains for a few seconds, smiling delightedly, and twiddling his moustache, and the chef returns to the kitchens, entourage in tow. "Of course not. I wouldn't be so presumptuous. Bishopess Erine would throw a fit!", he smiles, then blinks, forgetting himself. Hm. Being a bit foward, are we? Oops. "Erm, that is, to say, she might not approve. Of course, it is up to yourself and Bart to appoint someone officially, whoever they may be. It would not be appropriate for me to comment, in that case.". A distraction! Quick! Not a flinch on his face, and he finds one soon enough. "Oh, how pretty, Khiea! Don't get soup on it, now. Save it for a special occasion!". A little too enthusiastic. Perhaps suspiciously so. Still, Luka will make of it what she wills.
"Erine couldn't!" Luka laughs, knowing the woman well enough to be able to make that decision as iron. Erine didn't throw fits. She had shotguns for that. "She wouldn't," Luka assures. Hmm. Perhaps things could work out after all. Luka watches Brin for a moment more, her blue-greened eyes lidded with a surprisingly acute look before relaxing and turning to Khiea. "Yes, don't let it get ruined so quickly. It take a little special washing for it, so don't let just anyone put it to hang and dry," she adds, sniffing at the soup. "Have you spoken with Amaliel about this yet?" she asks yet, lightly. "I know that he is more intent on restoring the arts of Aveh, so... he may not have been as brushed-up on recent politics as you, do you think?" A smile, and Luka reaches for the spoon. "You should be able to see Bart anytime these days, Khiea," she affirms, "unless he's disappeared again.. I really have to ask the Yggdrasil to let us be able to contact them a little better."
"Hm?" Talking? Oh, Khiea was so caught up in looking at the new dress that she hardly noticed! She giggles softly and nods, folding the dress and putting it back in the box, to the best of her ability, "Right, right! I wouldn't to ruin it at all! And is that right, Miss Luka? Oh, I'll have to be very careful of that, then!" Because Khiea would be ever so heartbroken if the colors ran or it shrunk just because soemone didn't wash and dry it properly. And so she nods, and puts the box very carefully under her chair for the moment before scooting her chair closer to the table and actually considering the soup she was given. "Really? Oh, that'd be wonderful! I just thought that Mister Bart might want to know that I'm not on the other ship now, so he wouldn't have to worry anymore! If he worried before, that is. Otherwise, I just want to say hi! I've not seen him in a while either." And she takes up her spoon, then. Well, at least Khiea was gifted with basic table manners, for all the other glaring impropr
improprieties she suffered. And she can test her soup lightly while the others talk about their important politic sorts of things.
"I'm afraid not. It was just an observation I've only made to you, really. The council has enough to argue about with internal and administration affirs to worry about that right now.", says Brin, before taking his first spoon of Soup. Brocolli. "If you feel it's important that we resolve it, well, then, perhaps it can be dealt with by higher powers from each side. Everyone says sane that way.". The smile returns, and he watches Khiea taste the soup idly. "The soup is to your satisfaction? I know the chef is quite proud of it.", he smiles, nodding back toward the kitchen door.
Hmm. Normally Luka prefers meats--it's a taste one has to get used to in Solaris, much like finding out exactly what tripe is or pate, or veal, can't forget veal--but this blend is to her liking indeed. "I haven't had anything this good in a while," she sighs happily, taking another spoonful before she continues. "I simply must beg the recipe off to ask the cooks up in Solaris for some." Another sigh, a brief debate on how the wine will taste or if it will go better held off now until this course is over, and Luka smiles to Khiea. "I don't know if he knows or not... it was quite a surprise, I must admit. And is Citan doing all right?" Another spoon, and she thinks next about Brin's words. "I understand how difficult these things are... believe me, how I know," she adds, ruefully. "Perhaps with as little fuss--sometimes it is best to handle things as internally as possible, lest everyone decide to put their own two cents in and make matters even more extreme. Or has that advanced past this point yet?" A
...A consideration. "Certainly if you require the clout on your own means to have enough space to think and breathe without having to debate on the merits of it being given to you... I'm certain that could be done."
Khiea grins, "Its really good, Mister Brin." Khiea is not exactly a picky eater.. But good food is good food, isn't it? And so she's happy. Oo, do you suppose there will be ice cream for desert? The concept of Khiea with sugar never fails to be slightly unnerving, and yet.. She does like ice cream ever so much! "And.. Hm? A surprise?" Khiea hadn't thought so. But Khiea has very odd perspectives on things now and then, no one can deny, "Oh, Mister Citan's fine. And he really seems to like that new Gear, too.. And.." Didn't Citan intend to go see someone on the surface? Khiea hadn't wanted to pry, for some reason or another, despite how curiousity wore at her. Whatever was there to see in Aquavy? Although.. It being the most beautiful place on earth, as far as Khiea cares, it never wore at her mind -too- long.
A blink. I am not hearing this. She's talking about...getiing me a bigger room! That's it. A bigger room, with drapes, and a big carpet, and a thron...no! Brin starts to sweat a little, as Luka remains looking at him. "Well, erm, that is to say, anything decided would be your decision, not mine. I'd like that to be clear. If anything does stem from this conversation, then I can only interpret it as being a response to my suggestion.". Steady on, Brin. "I would rather, erm, move this conversation away from this topic for now. Perhaps another time. After all, we're here to enjoy ourselves.". The soup bowls are replaced by a sorbet on a silver dish, and the table now looks altogether cleaner.
Right, a bigger room. That's exactly why Luka is watching Brin with an entirely out-of-character look in her eyes--except if anyone catches her at rare moments of sharp diplomacy, in which case they are more often looking at the floor or down the barrel of a gun. "I fully understand that such would be done with the interests of better allowing Prime Minister Amaliel to concentrate on what he sees fit for the state of the kingdom," she replies smoothly, her voice as well-brewed as the wine. "However, I would not wish to burden anyone else with the same amount of duties as he--Amaliel is a rare soul indeed, and deserves all the -support- he can get." The faintest of stresses there, but as strong as steel or worse. No, usurpers would not be taken lightly at all. Cough. Erm. Not that Brin would do that anyway. "And I'm certain that the politics themselves must be a nightmare," she laughs, in a return to the lighter mood of before, adding to Khiea, "No pun intended, of course. How is that going, by the way?
...I'm so sorry I haven't been able to stop by and see you... I know that Citan must be taking good care of you there. Have you done anything particularly fun there, Khiea?"
Khiea giggles cheerfully at the pun--Ah, easily amused little thing, isn't she? But there's really no surprise in that. And so, she does her darndest to find a way to swing her legs from a chair that's perfectly her sized while she nods, "Ah, its such a pity that you never come there, Miss Luka! It would be really nice if you did!" If you could. And somewhere, Khiea has likely grasped this concept. Somewhere. But saying it is quite a different issue. "And of course he does! Uncle Citan is very nice and he's there all the time and makes sure that things go really nicely." And Khiea pauses then, pondering that last question. Hmm. What -has- she done in dozing lately? "I.. really haven't done all that much lately, though! But I did meet a very nice person called Mister Fei. I think Mister Citan knows him.. Either way, he's really nice!"
Brin nods slightly. "I understand.". And does. "I've met Fei also, outside the dream. Quite a while ago, actually. He was in the Pirate Base. I have not seen him since, though." A quick wiping of his mouth with his napkin, and he continues. "I apologise for not joining you lately, either. I've been quite busy here, as you might guess.". The smile. "Still, you have us all in waking now, once again. That must be very nice for you.". The sorbet done with, and irate shouting is heard from the kitchen. Main course is due soon, it would seem. And fom the sounds of the shouts, not soon enough.
"Fei... it's been a while since I've seen that man," Luka notes quietly, finishing the sorbet with a deft movement of her spoon. She resorts to a sip of the wine soon after that. It was good to indulge when it was... impossible to, actually. "Do you miss not being with the Pirates as often, Brin?" Luka asks, leaning back in her chair. "Perhaps you could go with Khiea and Citan when they head out to also catch up on matters? Would you like that, Khiea?" Ah, here comes the main course--excellent. Luka pauses to look up to the sky, taking in a breath of the night air. "Bledavik... it's so easy to love this place."
Its far too easy to love this place. And even though she's been all across the world, and lived in so many other places.. Khiea still adores Bledavik. She was born here, after all, whether or not she was wanted in this world at all. But.. She still loves this place, Aveh and all. Its oddly impossible not to, for some reason. And yet she blinks out of that with a perfect smile, "Its really nice, Mister Brin. Seeing everyone when I'm awake too is just.. Fun!" She wouldn't mind if she could only communicate with the Dream, really. But its so much fun to see people in reality, too! Ah, let's just forget it. Khiea just likes company in general. "I think that'd be really nice, Miss Luka! I need to find Bart and everyone anyway. And if anyone else wants to come to, that just makes it more fun!" The more the merrier, of course!
Brin sits back in his chair. The sky above the walls is dotted with stars, a carpet of tiny specks on this clear night. Do you, Brin? Watching this same sky from the roof of a base in the desert, from the conning tower of the Ygg, from the desert on his walks in the lesser heat of night. "Every day, I miss it."...."Every day I wish for a second that I were simply a man of God, doing my duty as perscribed."...he looks now at Luka, staring beyond her, introspective. "Then I realise that this is more important. I have...a calling here. A chance to make so much of a difference that it would be a sin to forsake that chance."..."Whatever gratification I got from being with the pirates pales in comparison with how fulfilled this job makes me...". He now looks directly at Luka. "Thank you...I would like that very much...". The kitchen doors exhibit more shouting, before they burst open, revealing the chef again, leading his entourage of servants carrying plates, as they progress across the courtyard.
Brin spoofs: Sylvina (OOC) says, "Aw crap. First the washer breaks, now this."
Serving God... thankfully, Brin does not seem to be focused on her as Luka twitches a lip, thoughts quite active during Brin's words but also appriciative of them. Most people wanted power. That was fine and good. Others wanted self-gratification. That was fine as well. Fewer, though, chose to throw themselves into their work with a thoroughness that sacrificed themselves, and it is for them that she is almost a patron saint. "All the thanks I would need would be that which you could do, for this kingdom and its people, Brin." Her words are almost cut off by the rush of the plates to the table and she is forced to lean away from it to give the servers room and laugh faintly to herself. "Why don't we invite everyone more often to Fatima Castle--not just for the musicals? Really, it would make it easier to -find- the pirates these days... it's home to so many of us now."
Watch the most of this go over Khiea's head--Not because its beyond her range of comprehention, but because she's a nice little girl and is keeping her nose out of business which isn't hers to butt into. But she can certainly note the conversation that's going on, while she resumes tapping the back of her heels against the legs of her chair. Ever figiting? Well.. Usually she's not this bad. But she's just.. In a happy, happy mood today, apparently. "I think that'd be a lovely idea, Miss Luka! Now that no one's fighting anymore, everyone should all meet together more! At least, I think.." And a pause. And Khiea breaks into a rather infectious grin, leaning back as the plates are put out.. But Khiea hardly notices, for all her eyes have drawn wide upon the realization of something. And her voice has to it all that quiet enthusiasm that just leaks through, regardless of how she tries to keep it from her voice, "Which reminds me! Did you know that my birthday is coming up, Miss Luka? Do you think we coul
could invite a lot of people for that?" Not -all- her friends could come, she fears, but still.
Luka invites everyone to Khiea's birthday.
Luka stares at Khiea.
Brin nods. "Yes, it's quite the bustle of activity these days. And it's only logical that it be a base of operations of sorts.". The plates are laid out. Some sort of steak, with an aromatic sauce, smelling deeply fruity, and rich. Brin takes a few moments to start on it, and continues eating until a sizeable portion of it is gone. "This is very good." he remarks, and suddenly realises the chef is still standing beside him. With that, the chef claps his hands, gives a deep, bellowing laugh, and starts back toward the kitchens, tipping his important-looking hat over on one side. "Your birthday, Khiea? How old will you be?", remarks Brin, expecting a random answer in the teens, as he continues on his steak.
Meat is something that Luka knows quite well, better than her fruits and vegetables if she would have to confess, and so it is with ease that she turns the fork and the knife to go with the grain of the meat, which almost peels itself away from its own fibers in an attempt to please. "This -is- quite good," she also states, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Well... I'm certain we could have it here, couldn't we? I don't think Brin would mind, and I know that Amaliel wouldn't..." And those two are apparently all she needs to worry about before borrowing the Fatima Castle. But where else would people stay? "Who would you want to invite?"
Khiea also turns to her food first, starting to eat her steak before she responds to the questions about. Khiea was not quite as keen on the concept of eating meat, perhaps, but.. As noted before, she wasn't a picky eater. What's nice is nice, right? That's about as far as Khiea's reasoning goes. Besides, what's so important about that question that it can't wait? For Khiea responds so naturally that it seems she doesn't find the foggiest thing wrong with it, "Hm? Oh, I'm going to be a full eight years old! Isn't that wonderful?" Right. Khiea, perhaps someday you will learn what is normal and what is not. But that's a long, long way away. "And.. um.. I don't know, Miss Luka!" A pause for consideration there before Khiea notes, rather happilly, "Everyone! I want to invite everyone and everyone. All my friends from Solaris, all my friends from the Yggdrasil, all my friends from Dazil... I don't know if I could invite the other-Yggdrasil members, though..." Khiea honestly looks a little bit sad at this realization,
actually.
Luka decides that one of Brin's first new expanded duties will be to handle this.
"I...see.", Brin replies, dismissing it. One wonders. But, then one just puts it away as a strange, yet non-earthshattering occurrence. "Well, I don't see why you can't use the castle. So long as you have a list of invitations. We can't just have anyone wandering in, can we?", he smiles. No, no Kislev spies, thanks very much, he thinks, firmly crossing their names off any prospective list. "Yes, I'll tell the Chef. He lives for these sort of occasions." As if on cue, the chef arrives out to dispense dessert, to be eaten at the diners' leisure, after main course. In front of each plate is left a medium-sized plate of cookies, topped with a large blob of whipped cream.
What, no spies? But they were a dime a dozen these days. And if Brin could handle all the guests and Khiea the invites--or at least choosing who--then that was something else not to worry about. And Luka chooses to refrain from dessert, instead choosing more wine. "Whichever makes you happy, Khiea, that doesn't make Citan twitch." He has enough going wrong with his nerves as it is. "When did you want this to happen?"
What? Is there something odd about turning eight years old? Khiea certainly doesn't see that there is. And yet, she almost blinks at that hesitant confusion at that line. Funny. Anyway, besides that, there's all the more reason to be cheerful! "Honestly? I could have it here? You wouldn't mind? Oh, how very nice of you, Mister Brin! This is the -perfect- place for a birthday party!" And yet, thank goodness Khiea can't hear the thoughts that go on at this time as well. Don't include the not-Yggdrasil members? But they're her friends too! And they're so very nice, and Khiea wants them to have a good time, even if they are spies and its just not fair to not let them co...--Ohh! Cookies! Khiea takes one rather gleefully and starts munching even while she considers Luka's questions. "Make Citan twitch? Whyever would I invite anyone like that?" Um.. That's actually pretty easy. Taking Khiea could conceiveably invite half the world, who knows? "And I don't know! I haven't set an exact date yet. Because I don'
don't know -exactly- when my birthday is. But its around this time, so I figured... Whatever time works best!" Its rather hard to know these things when no one who knew will tell you, after all.
Luka teleports away...
Luka has left.
Luka has arrived.
Luka teleports into the area...
Brin thinks, and notes, "Actually, the record office in the basement of the Castle might have that information. If you want, I can find the exact date for it. Assuming you were registered.". A longshot, perhaps, but maybe worth it, if she was curious. It could.... A page steps from the shadows and whispers something into Brin's ear. He looks perturbed, and replies, "Can't it wait?". More whispering. Exasperation, and Brin moves his chair out, and removes his napkin. "I do apologise. It's...well, it's one of your chair-defenestrating moments, Luka. I must go. Make yourselves at home in the castle, and I'll see you tomorrow.". Wit that, he follows the page into the castle, an annoyed look on his face.
Luka calls out her thanks, and enjoys her wine....