girlygirl has started a new game with the following players:
girlygirl

" S T A R T G A M E : t r u e "{ " g a m e I d " : " 1 7 1 9 7 4 9 2 4 2 " , " p l a y e r L i s t " : [ " g i r l y g i r l " ] , " r o l l N u m b e r " : 0 , " c u r r e n t P l a y e r " : 0 , " d i c e " : { " f a c e s " : [ 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 ] , " r e r o l l " : [ t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e ] } , " s c o r e 0 " : { " 1 " : n u l l , " 2 " : n u l l , " 3 " : n u l l , " 4 " : n u l l , " 5 " : n u l l , " 6 " : n u l l , " p l a y e r " : n u l l , " u p _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " b o n u s " : n u l l , " 3 k " : n u l l , " 4 k " : n u l l , " s s " : n u l l , " l s " : n u l l , " f h " : n u l l , " y a h _ t o k e n " : n u l l , " y " : n u l l , " c " : n u l l , " y a h _ b o n u s " : 0 , " b o t _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " g _ t o t a l " : n u l l } , " o w n e r " : " g i r l y g i r l " , " s t a t u s " : " r e a d y " , " r o u n d " : 0 , " l a s t P o s t " : 1 7 1 9 7 4 9 2 4 2 }

.

They were not the only ones lured out by the fine morning, and as they made their unhurried way around the Square she nodded politely in greeting at those they passed, nearly all known to her whether formally or not, such was the 'village' that was Edinburgh.

This intimacy you had slipped into would have been impossible if you had truly been wooing her. The marriage mart was as ruthless as a gladiatorial arena. The personality traits deemed most likely to ensure a proposal were donned like armour, and only when the wedding ring had gone on did that armour come off and one truly found out who they had shackled themselves to.

But in playing at courtship your true selves had prevailed and this rare friendship, whose seeds had been sown in childhood and lain fallow until your re-acquaintance as adults, had bloomed with it. The ease she felt in your company was almost liberating.

Her arm tucked into yours, she listens with a soft furrow to her brow as you speak of your work so. You had spoken to her before of the Order’s purpose, and she had seen for herself first-hand some of what you were up against, but she knew that the true scope of your travails were beyond anything she could imagine. And she, with her own gifts, could imagine more than most.

“Cnut might beg to differ.” She said with a ghost of a smile, and a whisper of envy in her tone at what you did. At what you, as a man, could do with such freedom as she had only ever dreamt of. The wonders you must see. “I would imagine that your day, though, is never dull.”

You stop, and she stops beside you. Her head cants almost in mirror image of your own as she bites down gently on her lower lip, her expression coy, of someone who had been caught out “Was it that obvious?” she asked a little sheepishly. Her concern for the residents of the Cowgate was no secret, with the exception of one man who was her secret as much as he himself was a secret.

He turns. Heading up the street

And the wait continues.

The jab of that bony little elbow in his side, indicator that it was that you were still yet to fully recover, was nonetheless met with a soft ‘ooft’ from him as he played up the impact. That he behaved this way with you was telling as to both the ease of the friendship which had bloomed between them as they had indulged in their charade, as well as to the depth of it. Rare indeed were those who saw this side of Alexander Kincaid.

They walked along through the square, heading clockwise around it now, with him setting the pace and keeping it a leisurely one. It was one thing to be out and be seen together, quite another for them to be witnessed with him having to carry you about on promenade.

He knew that whatever he said to you about time, beauty or the effects of the one upon the other would simply be refuted by you; you still could not accept a complement with any manner of decorum, so he allowed it to pass unchallenged, adding only a small ‘hmph’ to speak to his disagreement of your assessment.

They passed by the towering edifice of St George’s Church, its great copper dome already greened by the ravages of time and inclement Edinburgh weather, still managing to captivate the eye, set against the blue of a rare, clear sky.

He turned to face you, arm in arm as they walked, when you questioned him about his workload. “I fear I shall always be busy, Lila. My work is my life.” He smiled somewhat self-consciously but nodded after a moment’s pause. “But yes, we have all been kept busy of late. It feels, much of time, as if a roll of the dice determines the outcome of our efforts. You have heard of our hunts, seen the bitter outcome of the case we worked together, but we fight on. It is a battle of attrition, I think, to learn and discover.”

“That is our true focus. We kill when we must, but the investigations, the discoveries, are the true focus. We cannot protect if we do not understand. These take time, though, and truly it does feel as if holding back the tides would be an easier thing.”

Clocking your expression, he tilted his head, pausing their step for a moment. “You are asking of the Cowgate, though, I presume?”

For a man who looked, more often than not, like something had personally offended his olfactory senses, she found an odd sort of comfort in your rare smiles. They were as hard won now as they had been when you were both younger and less concerned with what the world thought of you.

“There’s no need to be quite so rude.” You draw her closer and, still grinning, she responds to your sardonic comment with a sharp jab of her elbow into your side as you set off, your pace slow and leisurely as befitted the art of Promenading.

Of course you knew some actual hags. Her gaze flicks over your shoulder to Eidyn House and she wonders if your Order included them in their ranks. How fascinating… “Show me a woman who says she would not sell her soul for such a trick and I will show you a liar.” she says with a wry smile. While she was hardly ‘old’ she was old enough to know how quickly the clock ran. Men had the good fortune to age well while women just… aged.

The fickle Edinburgh weather had chosen to favour them this morning, on the threshold of Summer the temperature was mild and the breeze gentle. As they made their way around the square she fell into step beside you. “Are you still very busy?” she asked softly, her concern for the Cowgate malaise still foremost on her mind, the more so after her recent rendezvous with Thomas Gilmore.

https://youtu.be/f7TYid-xj9o

but sleep won't come back and take it from that nightmare

Pads on by.

staying where it is for a moment - laying on the floor of its stall, on the straw

His smile widened into one of those rare and genuine expressions which his face seemed so ill-suited for, given its own inclinations, but it served as testament true that he was both pleased to see you – and that he had caught you unawares. One had to amuse oneself where he could, after all.

Your comment on your appearance though is met by that expression quickly turning droll, and he rolled his eyes for effect. “Oh aye, that Delilah Darling, a right old boot she is.” The chuckle escaped his lips before he could even think to stop it, and as you took his arm, he drew you in closer with a nod.

"I suppose we had better promenade, then." He set off, chin lifted, and the direction in which they set out made it apparent that they were taking the long way around the square, instead of the more direct route to George Street. “I call acquaintances a pair of actual hags, you know. Quite good-natured souls, and you would be amazed to see what they can do with a touch of glamour. Woe betide the unwary.”

His valet, for instance, was one who believed the illusion, and would not be making that mistake a second time. The thought threatened another grin, and he guided their steps west, towards the corner of Hope Street, to carry on the promenading. The point, he had to concede, was to be seen after all. Another touch of playacting in service to their ruse of a relationship.

*laughs as they finally see her. After she wandered several feet from the shed. Shakes my head, as the two take up formation. There's the instincts. *Grins when Logan trots back over to me, like "see mom? I got rid of it! Yard protected!"

She dropped by after her shift and let herself into the studio. She didn't stay long. Only long enough to slip in and up to Delilah's loft to leave a bag outside her door for her to find in the morning.

She didn't want to wake her or interrupt her if she had company. She meant to drop it off earlier but she'd been running late.

She dropped the gift, went back downstairs into the studio and let herself out. Resetting the locks as she did.

Looks really good, Pan..

And I settle in for awhile.

*lets my boys put, and spots a baby bunny, by my shed. My boys completely miss her presence. Smiles, as the creature literally lays down, watching them and chewing on the wild clover as the boys just wander around mere feet from her. Ahh the hunters.