#odyssey

Thistle does shower before the announcement. And slurps down coffee. And puts on her nice voile.

The coffee is strong, and good. And provided by Little Louis in an insulated mug.

"Miz Thistle, y'wan give me some good odds today?"

"Um. It's... I'm making..."

She takes a long slurp and frowns.

"I know what I want it to look like, in my head."

"And I know what I want it to say."

A brow. "Yah, but, she gotta win." He considers, then sighs. "You got two outta three odds. Big money was in the first anna second. Now that you've won two, people startin' to wonder. I won't get as good odds, now that some people thinking you might pull it off."

A compliment, even if in an odd sort of way.

"Sorry about that, but not sorry. I need to win. This is to bring my sister home."

"Omario wants to win. For himself. And that's the difference."

He looks a little embarrassed... but quickly snaps back. "Of course, ya. But if you happen to look a little worried, make some folk hedge their bets..." An over exaggerated wink.

"I can try that, kid."

A big grin, gap-toothed in a way that reminds her of Frankie.

"I'm saving up for my own boat." Proud.

"You got the gumption to do it, too. Keep busting ass, kiddo."

“Gonna get a right pretty little sailboat like yours, except all fixed up, and take her out fishing with tourists.” He brags, even as he trots away, seeing Thistle being gestured up to the front.

Art waits near the stage, also in his best voile - what he was wearing to the Saining - he’s done his best to straighten it and brush out the stains from sand and salt.

"Would you be interested in that boat?'

She heads up to the front

She, too, is in her Saining voile - intricately cut and tailored, with a rainbow of color and detail

His eyes widen, but he quickly tries to hide interest in ‘business mode’. “Sure is beat to the devil and back.”

"We'll talk!"

A thumbs up!

On the stage, Saoirse and Omario wait. He looks impatient, a foot tapping. The crowd has grown once more, folk clearly ready to see how this all pans out.

Thistle doesn't rush, but she doesn't lag. A steady pace.

Omario can wait.

Art notices, and doesn’t hid his grin. An elbow over to Gladiola, amused.

Gladiola gives a slight wolf smile back, slight, but there. SHe's been worried.

But tries to hide it.

Saoirse begins again, with the language of rote.

“Mainlander Thistlethwaite has returned to challenge for the right to return the Leanbh-cailín, of our blood and hers, to her coldwater Barony of Apples. Redfin Omario, protector of our island and our ways, warrior of our clan, and claiming blood tied with hers, defends the babe's right to stay with her clan and the sea.

Today we witness the final trial, the Challenge of Skill. Shall Thistlewaite triumph, Fate will have decided that her claim of rescue is just and true. Shall Omario triumph, the child will be named as a Redfin, and remain with our clan. Have your Champions step forward.”

Thistle steps forward. "I shall compete, myself."

Omario speaks, “I choose the lady Aerissa of House Syrinx.” Selkies and kin part for the woman who approaches, in deference either to her beauty, her regal manner, or her brightly colored spines. Her fins wave in an alluring way, the exotic striped pattern almost seeming to shift and shimmer. She wears a flowing voile with an iridescent scale pattern.

Gwen checks to see if that's the same one

Unless all of the mer in this area have the same look, it seems to be.

"Mm-hmm." The tiniest hint of disdain at Omario, a little nostril curl. She does assess the Mer without any hint of a sneer - her dislike is centered on the selkie.

No sneer, but no deference, either. It has only been a few days since her Name, but she has her Name, and it seems to be providing a firm footing in this - Thistle is a maker. She knows the work she has already put in to prepare for this.

Gwen does ease her worries as she sees Thistle's confidence. She's always been passionate, but she seems so much.. stronger now.

She speaks, her voice smooth and melodic. “I accept, and will act as Champion.” She looks at Thistle, and crooks a smile. “Such bright colors. Are you venomous, or simply poisonous?”

"You'd have to wait for a bite to find out. Though my barbs are a bit less literal than yours."

A flash of a grin, teeth sharply pointed. “This may be interesting after all.” She inclines her head slightly to Thistle. “I look forward to seeing your Skill.”

She is lovely, alien, and predatory- but without the malicious air that Omario seems to emit.

"Likewise, Champion. I look forward to testing my skills, artist to artist."

Gladiola keeps her eyes and kenning on Omario

“Just so.” She turns, and a glance to Omario. “My work requires time. I will return.” Then, she retreats back to the sea, just offshore, and settles into the water- seemingly in a meditative pose.

Omario’s eyes follow the Mer.

"As does mine. Shall we meet here again at sunset, to present our creations?"

Saoirse nods. “Until sunset.”

Thistle takes a deep breath, nods firmly to herself, and marches off to the kiln. The Object had been fired late last night, before she finally slept, and has been cooling - ready for glaze and a second fire today.

Gladiola walks to her, "Should we go check on your project" She asks quietly, "Did it have anyone watching it during this?" Yes, she's being a bit OLD Gwen, super anxious, but with all she's seen... no surprise

"Dayana was at the kiln. I would think sabotage would be disqualifying."

"Mmm" Troll grunt "You'd think plotting a coup would too, but apparently evidence is everything. Still, glad Dayana is there"

"Can't do anything about that, not while I'm a challenger."