#odyssey

Morning dawns, and with it comes noise.

Birds chirping, a breeze rustling, and people. Muirghein Brighid cries - and is softly shushed and soothed. Dishes clatter, feet patter.

Gladiola sleeps like a rock. Fittingly enough. That is not to say she sleeps late, but she sleeps in such comfort and ease that it's almost amazing to those that know the often tense troll.

Particularly since she has no Ivan to cuddle with

...or Chuck, alas.

Or Chuck, alas

Thistle DOES sleep late. Snooooooooooooooooore.

Eventually Gwen is up, and remembering something important ,she texts to send word

Then she sighs "oh well, even paradise isn't flawless"

There is still no wifi on the island, nor cellular - the poor millennials and zoomers are forced to make phone calls. However, messages can be left - Marigold DOES have an answering machine!

And she calls...

She gives a message on the answering machine, then glances over at the sound of snoring nearby Sounds like a saw mill is in the grips of the Marquis de Sade

Several of the tiny butterfly-winged dragons are curled up atop the sleeping nocker. Citrine might have opinions about this.

Gwen hears a conversation from the kitchen. "No? Well, call another one. Try Bee Bee Bakery down by little bay, or Triple J over in Salem." Janice's voice is firm. "We're getting a cake."

A smile, and she hangs up to see how it goes in the kitchen, dressed in shorts and a t shirt

"Closed? When?" A sigh. "So much has changed."

Greg is saying, "No, Frankie, that's spicy, you won't like - Well I guess you do like it. Don't complain later if you have a tummy ache."

The kitchen BUSTLES!

Gwen comes into the door way but knows how to keep her bulk from blocking "G'morning"

A young man - Was this one Cormac? Cillian, Callum? Some 'C' name - is setting out food - and coffee!

Frankie is eating fritters speckled with bright colored peppers!

A snif at the coffee

Then a sense of duty "Do you need help?" An offer

Janice looks tired, but happy. The happiest that Gwen has ever seen her. There is still a hint of something sad in her visage, but it's more... poignant, than sorrowful, and it is softened by the present joy.

He shakes his head! "Me own mum would throw me to the fishes if I let a guest serve breakfast, and a Champion at that."

"Just for one event, but thank you. I forget your name, and I'm sorry about that. I'm Gladiola, or Gwen if you prefer" a sniff "May I have some coffee, please?"

Oh sweet magic bean ambrosia

He grins, and pours her a big travel mug. "Ciaran. And folk will talk of this one for some time. Never seen such a fight."

Thistle has not been wakened - apparently they want to let her sleep in. The noise may do for her sooner or later, though.

"It's not what I expected either" She admits and savors the scent "Thank you, Ciaran." And a blessed sip

"Do you know what cake Thistle likes? Apparently there needs to be a custom cake rush ordered."

She tells her, that's one thing Marigold got right away so she can share it

Ciaran listens, and nods. "We're checking around, might need to take an island hopper over to Guadeloupe, but we'll see it done."

Art pads in - his hair is a mess, slept on, but he looks cheerful, and pours himself a glass of juice.

One thing nice about this is she gets to try some of that Island coffee Janice boasted off

She glances over at Art, "Dear lord even when your hair is a mess you look great. " Half annoyed as she remembers to smooth her own

It's unlike any coffee she's tried before! Refined and mild, with an extremely pleasant sweetness that verges on creamy. Tones of chocolate appear in the complexity of the coffee which also exhibits a smooth yet bright acidity and almost a total lack of any bitterness.

Art picks up a spoon and checks his reflection. "Is it that bad? I'm afraid I didn't pack a brush."

He seems to be considering a fork, or maybe a dinglehopper.

"Run your fingers through it, you'll be fine" She says seeming on a spiritual journey. GOOD Coffee

The nocker shuffles into the kitchen, eyes half-closed as she follows the scent of coffee.

He does, using a bit of water, and his hair seems to fall naturally into place with a shake of his head. It's not FAIR.

Gwen looks to Thistle "Coffee is over there. That's Ciaran, bringer of the nector"

"Thistle!" His cheeks color a little, and he goes to grab her a cup. Ciaran reaches for it at the same time, and they end up clattering and almost dropping the crockery.

"Mmph." Blinky-squint. "Morning."

Thistle is the opposite of a sidhe in the morning - tousle-haired, bleary-eyed, and generally rumpled.

Ciaran rescues the mug deftly, and pushes it into Thistle's hands, making sure that her hands wrap around it before letting go and filled it with coffee.

"Coffee."

That's right boys, placate the black widows in your life so you may know our touch... and live A sip

I've been patrolling with D'lorean too much savor

She plunks down to sit between Gwen and Art, cradling the mug with both hands.

Citrine has found the sugar bowl!