risingstones | @fistsofjustice

[He's already seen three people get tossed out on their ear for coming on their own; another five pairs that satisfied the first requirement but weren't 'interesting' enough to earn a path onto the gangplank. Stocke leans on the rail, staring up at the dirigible tethered at the dock, and considers his next move. He winds tiny sparks of ember over and under the fingers of his hand as he thinks.]

[Sneaking onto the ship straight-up's not an option - there's but one way up without flight, which is far outside Stocke's magical power or price range, and that one way is heavily watched. He's got enough crushed moonflower to pull together a simple Notice-Me-Not, but he'd rather save it for getting back out, considering what he's planning to do on board. Call that plan B. Which leaves...]

[Stocke casts a speculative glance at the crowd around, scanning for any especially forlorn or determined-looking loners. One man catches his eye, and Stocke pauses - then turns his eyes aside, forcing away the urge to flinch with a casual demeanor. Too similar, too soon; he'd much rather not have his mission distracted by guilt. Better someone else.]

[His next likely prospect's a young woman. Stocke debates for the span of two seconds, eyes narrowed, then slips into the crowd.]

[He emerges next to Amelia half a minute later, once more draping his elbows over the rail. His pose is relaxed, just a young dandy looking to find his way into the party of the year; he pretends not to notice her for a good twenty seconds, watching the airship's guards let a couple through. A middle-aged man with a ticket of admission is next; as he walks up the gangplank, Stocke finally turns his head toward Amelia. Friendly, he reminds himself, and offers her a wry -] Wishing you were one of the lucky few with an invitation too?

[Amelia has been staring at the airship through a pain of opera glasses. It would have been much easier if she was here officially - Lord Philionel's daughter could enter whatever party she fancied. But her daddy, while never forbid her, wouldn't approve, and Gracia would surely run off again if she knew her family was around.

She couldn't find her in the crowd, but Amelia has no doubt her sister is here. People were coming from all over the country, and such an extravagant event is bound to catch her attention. Even under a false name, Gracia was definitely… interesting, enough to overshadow whoever she talked into hanging on her arm.

Speaking of which, she should find an arm to hang onto, and fast. Amelia supposes she can just ask some random person in the crowd, but that would be so unromantic. Biting back a sigh, she removes the glasses and leans against the rail. She's so lost in thought, she doesn't even notice the young man until he speaks up.]

Hmm? Oh… [Amelia turns her head toward him and chuckles.] Am I that obvious?

[She glances back at the airship, still smiling.]

I do believe tonight has been hailed as the "event of the decade".

[Though her sister takes first priority, Amelia has to admit she's curious. Especially if they have an all-you-can-eat buffet.]

I'm not much better, [Stocke answers with a grin. He shades his eyes as the setting sun glints off the airship's sides. What would he be expected to like, as a young society lad, dances and the general chatter of society aside...?] I hear Doctor Fennel's been invited to demonstrate his invention for the World Science Fair early. I know I'll be able to see it in a few months, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to sneak a peek ahead of time.

[...no, if he's going to be honest with himself, he really is interested. Hell, if it weren't for... everything, maybe he'd have tried to find a way to sneak on anyway.]

[But the stakes are much higher now.]

[He adds,] And the princess of Granorgia. I've never known her Royal Highness to be let out of the country before this week.

[...pretending to be a pair's hardly an original idea in this crowd, he's sure. He won't stand out for suggesting it. But this'll still be easier if she feels like she's the one who came up with it first. Very carefully not looking at Amelia, Stocke says a regretful,] Makes me wish I'd managed to find a date.

I hear the host convinced Doctor Fennel to show something so secret it won’t even be revealed at the fair.

[She tries to keep her voice neutral. Her father wasn’t fond of Fennel’s character (he may an unparalleled genius, Lord Philionel said, but people like him will make anything with no regards for consequences) so Amelia feels she shouldn’t sound so interested, but… she too is eager to peek at the new invention. How will she know what to disapprove of otherwise?]

But I didn’t know Princess Eruca will be there, too. She’s - well, they say she’s wonderful. [Whew, saved. Gotta keep her cover - not that there's much to keep in that case. Amelia had only seen the princess once, when she accompanied her father on a delegation, and they didn't speak past the few formal pleasantries. Still, Amelia liked the princess. She thought she wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.] This party is even fancier than I thought!

[Amelia looks at Stocke, a bit expectantly, but he just complains. He probably wouldn’t have talked to her if he didn’t want to pair up, so why doesn’t he ask? Maybe he’s shy, or too worried about pretending to actually suggest it - either way, she has no problem making the first step. He seems like a pleasant enough fellow.]

You know, there’s no rule saying you can’t find a date now.

[She hooks her arm around Stocke’s without waiting for an answer. There’s no rule saying the sweet young lady can’t be the daring hero, either.]

[If he seems to be shy, it's all for the better when he suddenly changes gears and throws everyone off!]

[Regardless, Stocke's absolutely startled when Amelia just suddenly grabs his arm - he supposes this is what he gets for never having played the honeypot before. For the barest of moments his expression completely shuts down - then he realizes he should be acting startled and lets himself jump, eyes wide open in surprise. Which probably doesn't help the shy impression at all.]

[He's back to smiling, just after - a polite bow's hard with his arm trapped, but he does manage half of one.] ...I'd be honoured to accompany you. [And, to introduce himself -] Shrike Alistellian.

[That last name... that's wince-worthy, maybe. It's common in Alistel for illegitimate children to take it when they're not allowed to use their family's - usually those of the upper or middle class, since those lower down on the social axis have other concerns. But it's not at all an unusual name to hear.]

[Stocke'll wait for her to respond in kind; then, once they've traded all the pleasantries:] Any idea how to impress them enough to get inside? [Almost sheepishly,] I've got a bit of fire magic, but...

[Very carefully, he toes the line between it sounding modest and like he's useless - the latter'd be a mistake. If he just seems to be shy, and she doesn't have a way to get herself inside, then he can play convinced - he's not lying by saying 'a bit,' but he can probably use it well enough to carry the both of them. If she does have a plan and he only needs to act support - even better.]

[Definitely shy, but Amelia doesn’t mind. It’s kind of cute.

His name, though... she tries not to look too surprised, with dubious success. What if someone recognizes them? Amelia can imagine the gossip (Yes, the young daughter, sneaking around consorting with bastards, gone bad just like her sister) and it makes her feel ashamed of herself almost immediately. Her father always said no one has a right to judge someone for what they were born. “Shrike” seems like such a nice guy and if anything she’s the one deceiving him; if she gets recognized that’s her problem, not his.]

It’s a pleasure to meet you. [Amelia smiles at him, sincerely.] I’m Lia - just Lia.

[Not the cleverest fake name, but it’s better than her original choice, which was “Lulu”. Amelia had also considered a few fake surnames before deciding that not having one is easier and makes her look more alluringly mysterious.

As for getting in:]

No, fire magic is great! I can do some magic too. Here’s what I thought: [She gestures Stocke to come closer so she can whisper in his ear.] You know how some people make a scene when they’re not allowed through? Well, next time it happens we step in, tell them to stop holding our line and show off our magic! It’s all about confidence, see.

[Confidence, and finding someone they’re sure to outshine.]

Mysterious, [Stocke does indeed tease, though he almost immediately goes very slightly red. (Other things 'a bit' of fire magic is good for: using just enough heat to feign a blush.) Gamely, he keeps going, as if unaffected.]

[Internally he ticks off a suspicious flag - but there's any number of reasons for hiding a family name, and using a false given name too, assuming "Lia" is one. He'd be a hypocrite to say otherwise. As long as her aims don't conflict with his he's not going to say a word, just keep an eye out.]

[The look he gives her after her suggestion is more considering, even slightly admiring. The latter's exaggerated, but he really does approve - it's simple, as solutions go. Hard to screw up by overextending themselves.] Clever.

["Shrike" tilts his head toward the ramp cheerfully. Equally quiet, barely audible over the crowed -] What say you we start heading over there to watch? And we can figure out how to work our magic in tune on the way. [They've got quite a few people to struggle past, after all, and then they have to wait for something to come up... but he doesn't make the first move himself, letting Amelia take the lead.]

[Still holding Stocke’s hand, Amelia makes her way up the ramp, moving with the grace and confidence of someone used to having doors opened to her. Like slipping through a crowded ballroom, she tells herself… but with more shoves. Occasionally she has no choice but elbow someone out of her path, or step on the skirt of an equally determined lady. “Lia” can be more pushy than Amelia, she decides.

She keeps glancing back at Stocke as they go, chattering happily, like she pays no mind to the people she’s been pushing. Playing a character is a lot of fun!]

I know some light magic, so that should work well with your fire. I brought some ingredients too, just in case, but I think using our own power is better.

[Stocke's itchier about the attention they're drawing - though he keeps up a relaxed facade as he strolls after, keeping up with longer legs, he's watching every irritated face out of the corner of his eyes.] Unless we're professing to be scholars, [he agrees. It's not that assisted magic can't be impressive, but everyone can pull off the basic spell with a crystal and a bit of crushed vervain. It takes something complicated to be notable. Raw magic is a lot rarer.]

[Stocke starts gathering sparks in the palm of his free hand as they go, letting the magic in them build. About a fourth of the way up, he gives in and starts helping Amelia elbow through - it wouldn't be gentlemanly to make Amelia do all of it, fake shyness or not. He was bold enough to come up to her in the first place.]

[The line at the front is quiet - no fuss as of yet. Stocke turns to "Lia" again, with a curious,] What sort of light magic can you do?

Flashes, beams, that sort of thing. Sometimes I enchant glass jars with it to make lamps.

[She holds up a hand. A bright sphere of white light gathers in her palm, emitting small sparks.]

I can create a bit of lightning, too. [Amelia curls her fingers and the sphere splits into thin threads, flashing and weaving themselves around her fingers like a miniature thunderstorm.]

See? [She grins at Stocke, obviously proud of herself.]

Edited (/delets an extra line space) 2016-06-05 18:27 (UTC)

[Stocke whistles, very softly -] That's amazing. [At least in Alistel, lightning is rare. In truth, even without any acting, he's slightly jealous - even the smallest bit of lightning would make good battle magic.]

[As for him - he brings his palm up and unfolds the fingers over the embers glimmering underneath, then pauses.] I can't make anything very large, [he confesses, almost shamefacedly, and that's true,] or anything that lasts for more than a minute or two, [and that's a lie,] but I can do this.

[He blows softly on the embers, stoking a fire - it flickers softly as it grows, then settles into the shape of a bird. The flame-shrike twirls its head back and forth in sharp jerks, like it's alive, then stops with its head tilted at Amelia - both wings spread. It leaves Stocke's hand with a flutter of feathers and almost immediately snuffs out, a few flecks of ash twirling from where it just was.]

[Nothing large, nothing long-lasting... but Stocke is maybe revealing more about his practice in control than he'd like. Still, again - he can't seem to be useless. And they'll probably need at least this much to get inside.]

[Amelia gasps, eyes like saucers, childlike wonder written in every one of her features.]

Oh! [Hushed, as if a loud voice will blow the bird out like a candle. She claps her hands after it vanishes.]

Shrike, that’s incredible! Don’t undersell yourself - you’re an artist!

[It wasn’t just a generic “bird”; the control and precision it takes are impressive - and pretty, too. It may not be very practical, but art doesn’t need to be. Professional magicians with real magic were very popular.]

['Shrike' rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.] It's just a lot of practice, that's all - my namesake, you know?

[An artist, huh - somehow, despite the count of missions Heiss has sent him on, Stocke's never been called an artist before. He can't say he was expecting it. He pulls his hand back in and focuses on rebuilding the sparks he's used up.]

[His head snaps up shortly afterward, though, as there's a wail from the top of the ramp. 'Please,' someone's begging on their knees, eyes teary - Stocke hesitates, glancing back at Amelia. This is definitely a scene, but interrupting this one would feel cruel - and while Stocke has no compunctions about it, "Shrike" would.]

[Amelia meets Stocke’s eyes, smiles faintly and shakes her head.]

...let’s wait some more. We don’t want to look mean.

[She looks back to the weeping woman. It’s undignified - maybe an overreaction, maybe an act - but Amelia can’t help but feel a little sorry for her. Making an entrance now would be like kicking a puppy.

Meanwhile, another pair at the front has no qualms about being cruel. ”Just get this baby out of here,” yells one and his companion adds: “Can’t you see she’s faking it to make you feel sorry for her? Pathetic.”

Security finally escorts the woman out. Amelia stands on the tips of her toes, expectantly. If that pair also gets rejected, this might be their chance.]

["Shrike" relaxes, looking relieved.] I'm not sure I'd have been able to bring myself to do it to her, [he confesses. His eyes narrow as he looks back towards the front -] These, two, on the other hand...

[Stocke and Amelia are in luck - or maybe it's to be expected, with only one in every thirty groups of people being let inside at best. Either way, the man of the duo is just starting up with an offended, "Excuse me -"]

[Stocke nudges Amelia's shoulder lightly and starts forward. 'Let's do this.']

[Perfect. Amelia’s arm snakes around Stocke’s and she marches forward, holding her head high. The man is getting louder, and Amelia makes a point of butting in when he’s right in the middle of a word.]

No, excuse me. What a vulgar pair you are, all talk and nothing to show for.

[She then proceed to completely ignore the angry retort and walk past the duo like they aren’t even there. “Lia” gives the bouncer a radiant smile.]

I think it’s time for others to have their turn, don’t you agree?

[Gosh, this is too fun! Amelia holds up a hand as if in question, and another minitature storm charges up in her palm.]

That's alright. We'll show you how to do it, [Stocke adds sweetly as he skirts around them.]

[The bouncer just lets out a soft, bored sigh, her eyes twitching as if she's just barely stopping herself from rolling them - she's probably gone through scenes like this all day. It's not until Amelia starts casting that a spark of interest springs up in her eyes; she straightens. The... probably ceremonial(?) spear she's been leaning on stays firmly blocking the doorway - for now.]

["Shrike" seems encouraged by this; he flicks a sideways glance at Amelia, then starts working his own spellcraft. Rather then stoking sparks in his palm, he flings them free - they swirl around him and Amelia, glimmering brighter as if building up to something.]

[Amelia doesn’t let her eyes wander to “Shrike” for more than a moment. They’re supposed to be a couple, so she should act like she anticipates his moves. When the sparks glow brighter, Amelia condenses the storm into a white-hot sphere and tosses it up in the air, where it splits into several smaller orbs. The hover above them like a shimmering canopy, flashes of lightning bounce from orb to orb.

The bouncer raises her eyebrows. Amelia knows she can’t say anything, but she thinks very hard at Stocke about an impressive finale.]

[And an impressive finale there'll be, though Stocke was expecting Amelia to be the one putting it in practice. He takes in a slow breath, then splays his fingers out in front of him in one sharp motion.]

[(Truthfully, the movement's unnecessary, but it does help him concentrate.)]

[His sparks slam together, as if trading off with Amelia's magic, and flare up into another bird - but this one's three, four times larger than the one in his palm earlier. It flickers weakly but for the outlines, his magic spread thin as paper. But Stocke uses that to his advantage: wisps of fire spiral through it, like lightning darting through its veins. It looks like some sort of stormbird crouching over its tempest.]

[The bird cranes its long neck, then slams down its wings, one strong flap. It bursts into zigzags of fire. With any luck Amelia'll take the cue and make her storm of orbs burst at the same time.]

[Whoosh. The beating of wings is her cue; Amelia snaps her fingers and the orbs burst. A bright flash of lightning illuminates the bridge for a moment, leaving only pale sparks behind. She lets them fall down to the floor where they disappear like snow.

When it ends, the crowd behind them is silent. Then the spell’s broken and the commotion resumes. “Not bad”, the bouncer says with a smirk. About time something interesting happened in this batch. She steps aside and moves the spear from the doorway.]

["Shrike," very carefully, doesn't look triumphantly in Amelia's direction (- to Stocke, it's practically second nature). Instead he sketches a polite bow of thanks in the bouncer's direction, not quite as deep as the one to "Lia" earlier, and waits for Amelia to be ready before they move inside.]

[As they pass, the bouncer gives them both a very obvious up-down look, still grinning, then offers, "And if you two need a guide around the ship later today, let me know."]

[Oh dear.]

[This time Stocke manages not to "blush" until they're past the door. He visibly restrains an exclamation of victory and stares at the inside of the ship unfolding in front of them instead, eyes slightly wide with wonder. After some long moments, he turns back to Amelia with a smile.] Where to first?

[At some point... at some point he's going to need to come up with an excuse to split up from her and do what he came here to do. But Heiss won't be onboard for another hour - it's best to lay low until then and keep up the act.]

[“Lia” laughs, something between embarrassed and amused, and tells the bouncer she’ll keep the offer in mind. Seeing how Stocke can barely hold it in as well, she takes his hand again for a brief, jubilant shake. ’We did it!’.

The inside of the ship is every bit as extravagant as the rumor said, and Amelia mouths an excited wooow. She’s been on airships, has had her fair share of fancy parties, but this is several times bigger and fancier than anything she’d seen before.

She’s glad “Shrike” offers to stick together. Amelia have to find her sister eventually, but touring the ship is nicer with company and Gracia is hard to miss.]

Um… [Amelia looks around. Her gaze lingers on the buffet, but it’s currently besieged by a redheaded young woman in flashy clothes and her companion, and the duo seems determined to eat everything by themselves.] Let’s go to the observatory! I want to see the view from above.

[It’ll be more impressive when the ship goes for a round later, but also more crowded, and Amelia wants to get the layout of the ship. Maybe she’ll even spot Gracia from there, if she’s not running fashionably late.]

Good idea, [Stocke decides, shading his eyes as he looks up at the giant staircase. (The chandeliers above are more than impressive, but also near-blinding to stare directly into from down below. They need to be, to light up the whole room.)]

[Stocke maps out a route through the crowd, looks back at Amelia, and adjusts it for two people.] Come on! [If Amelia follows closely, there'll be quite a bit of weaving - but minimal shoving. If she doesn't, Stocke'll pause to give her time to catch up; he's unusually good at this, as if he's used to trying to duck direct attention.]

[Once they hit a point halfway over the floor, the ship isn't quite as crowded - less people bumbling about to greet each other than at the entrance. Stocke pauses at a placard at the base of the stairs - he jerks his head toward it. 'Amazing and Astounding Visions of the Future, by Dr Fennel...' and a long list of titles.]

[The doors are roped off for now, but -] As long as we also make a stop there later tonight.

[Amelia follows closely, impressed with his ability to pass through without having anyone snap at them. He should’ve have led the way back outside! It’s so smooth she actually trips over her own feet when the crowd thins and the space opens up so suddenly, and she tries to cover it with an embarrassed laugh. So much for assertive, effortlessly cool “Lia”...]

Of course we’ll stop there. I’m curious too.

[The observatory is empty, as most people are still mingling downstairs. It gives them a good view of the entrance hall and the lower floor, except for the corridors that surely lead to other decks. Amelia glances around, and… stands on the rail. Because it’s fun.]

So, Shrike. Should we take on the guard’s offer to show us around?

[She says with a teasing grin. That spear lady really had no shame.]

[This time Stocke's startled enough to genuinely go slightly red. He squashes the urge to slap a hand over his fact and disguise his loss of control; as an alternative, he gives Amelia a half-hearted sideways glare. That's in-character enough. As an afterthought, the corner of his mouth quirks.] I don't think the tour would last very long.

[He leans over the railing, watching people bounce back and forth between groups on the floor. His eyes narrow slightly as he sees an increased bustle near the entrance -] Do you see who's coming in?

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now in the right place

;__; i'm sorry this took so long (sneaks it in during game hiatus, shh)

no worries!

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casually... casually makes the bouncer Raynie

yes good... marco can be the guard inside

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i had to go dig out some art to make an icon for this i hope you're happy