#odyssey

"And Thistle " A yawn "Good night"

Art shoos Gwen off the sofa-bed and pulls it out for himself, leaving the two queens for, well, the two queens.

And Citrine, who steals the pillow.

There was an adjoining suite... but it seems forgotten, and he's already asleep by the time Gwen remembers.

Gwen might end up in the adjioinging suite for herself

but in the morning, music can be heard from there

Thistle is not a morning person. She grumbles while still asleep.

Art does not snore. He is a sidhe. Thistle might, though.

She does. Not loudly, at least.

good. they won't catch the sight of Gwen dancing by herself

Art stirs at the sound of music. (The hills are alive!)

Her emerald hair is sticking up in all directions, and showing white at the (chimerical) roots. Trina's mortal hair is dark.

Currently, Citrine sprawls and might have a foot up Thistle's nose.

Still - anything but brown.

Inhale... exhale... foot!

"Ack!" Sputter, grumble.

"Thistle?" Art asks, sleepily, as he folds up the couch with a CHUNK-THUD.

It's not just Citrine, either - there's some snoozing dust bunnies on the duvet, which go scattering at the noise.

"Never-foot. In my nose."

She scrubs at her eyes.

Art laughs and steps over to pick up Citrine lightly by the scruff of her tunic. The little pixie pouts. "Come, I saw some sugar packets by the coffee maker."

"...coffee. Mmph." That gets her out of bed, to shuffle over to the pot.

It's slightly better than average pre-packaged coffee!

Art checks the time. "We can still hit the continental breakfast if we go now... Or I can bring something back?"

"Ooo, breakfast. Bet there's already-made coffee, there."

Art raps at the adjoining door.

"Gwen? Breakfast?" He calls without opening it.

the sound of heavy steps stops and a sniffing begins "Coffee?" the door opens a crack

She rakes her fingers through her hair to 'comb' it - or at least lessen the bedhead effect. It is still fairly gravity-defiant.

"There should be some downstairs. They advertised an omelette station and waffle bar."

Art hides a smile, and reaches over to 'fix' a bit of green hair that is falling in her face.

The 'fix' makes her cheeks pink and her spirals warm to coral.

...it falls right back down, and Citrine laughs!

He sets the pixie on her head with a chuckle. "Fine, you're in charge."

Gwen comes out, blue jeans and a lacrossse t shirt

"I'm sure she'll find pastries. I am interested in the concept of waffles. I wonder if it's one of the cool machines?"

"You've never had waffles?"

One might wonder where she found a LaCrosse t-shirt... but they ARE in NYC, where anything can be found!

Art has a t-shirt with the subway routes of manhattan printed on it. "In case we need a map." He nods!

"I've had waffles, Gwen."

"Everyone has had waffles. They are the round frozen pastries for toasting."

"Oh sweet summer child" She bends a little to wake up

She splashes some water on her face. "Waffles. Coffee."

One thing that Gwen had learned, or remembered... there is a national lacrosse league team in Albany called the FireWolves. It's in the Capital Region, under Count Maldiset ap Dougal, but... someday, if she wants to go pro...

Tempting, so tempting she recosues "Yeah let's get a move on then before they take all the good waffles"

"Can they not simply open another box?" He asks as he puts on his shoes.

"If they have eggos, I will be disappointed. This is a fancy joint, they might be Belgian."

Art looks perplexed, as they head down.

"Arthur, most waffles aren't from simple cardboard boxes, not that those can't be tasty"

"Eggos are still quality, yo."