#scarsdale

"A glick ahf dir!"

(He rasps a harsh laugh at her words, possibly agreement. And off he is stalking, to rescue the other nockers from....his mother)

"He'll need it," He says, betraying his own understanding of Yiddish.

A poke in the toll's side. "Sneaky."

A blush, "Is it sneaky to learn a survival skill?"

"Yes. But I am a sneaky, snakey sluagh."

"You are a beautiful sneaky snakey sluagh who is precious to me beyond words," He smiles, "And so naturally I want to be in as much of your world as you'll let me. Including the Yiddish." the smile broadens, his eyes bright, "You see, Trolls aren't sneaky, we're creatively efficient."

"I see!"

"It's all in the wording," A smile, then sheepishly, "I hope you don't mind? I'm also studying hebrew."

"Mayhaps I shall have to learn another language, for secrets."

"A guy could become quite multilingual trying to keep up with you," He says with a chuckle, "Would you rather I didn't study it? Hebrew I mean."

"Hebrew is a beautiful language. I would not bid you stop. Mayhaps I shall learn Russian."

"That could be a very sexy accent," His eyes flicker with a touch of mischief.

"You're awful!" Clearly in jest.

"Da," He agrees, "Moderately awful, yes. "

Another breezy not-laugh. "Come on, let's find the Uncles."

Hand in hand with her, he nods, "yes, let's."

And follows where she directs, blissfully happy

She leads him through the crowds, and if either are observant for anything other than their companion, they might notice gathering some glances and whispers as they go. Ahead, they see the Uncles in what seems to be a ... vibrant discussion with each other. To the right, August spots them and waves. And across the room on the left, Miriam stands a bit apart from the apprentices, all younger than she, ensemble by Madonna and Lauper c.1986.

Master Hirim the Upholsterer is dressed. Boy is he dressed. There is no mistaking the fact that he is wearing clothes. The fabric looks like someone Easter egged a flower garden in full bloom; if he stands still next to the decorations, he'll vanish. If part of the clothing can be ruffled, it is. His head looks like the cherry on top of whipped cream, his neckline is so fluffed. His pants are designed not unlike jodhpurs that are four sizes too big; it looks like he's got piglets tucked down each flowered, pastel leg. He's wearing not a vest, but a waistcoat, and frock coat over the top of that with eight-inch, turned back, button-festooned, braid-encrusted cuffs. The rest of the coat suffers the same embarrassment of riches. His usual fiddler's cap has been replaced by a fez, of all things; his hair sticks out from underneath it as if caught in mid-explosion.

Zara waves back to August, and nods in Miriam's direction. Earl is gently led towards the lady-nocker. "Ima, you remember Earl?"

"Yeah, sure. How ya been?"

Meanwhile the vibrant discussion seems to be turning a bit physical, with Hirim appearing to attempt to climb over Ratchet, who is blocking his path to the chatting trio. Other Masters are stepping in, and a steward is on the way over.

Zara's eyes slowly widen, and she releases the troll's hand (She had still been holding it!) A gentle pat on his arm. "Keep an eye on her? I'll be right back. The shanda...." The sluagh shakes her head before marching over towards the fracas.

When she gets there, Hirim and Ratchet are taking turns with metal flask produced by one of the other Masters and the steward has settled things down. "Oh, Zara." Hirim shoves the flask at Ratchet. "Your friends here?"

"Yes. Earl's over with Miriam, and Ice... I think.. is trying to get between Lady Cogsbury, Master Goggles, and a bottle of whisky...."

Earl waves to August, and nods a hello to Miriam, a smile crossing his face at the 'vibrant' talk. He's not ever going to be completely used to Nockers, but thanks to meeting Zara's family, he knows them much better than he did . He blinks when Hirim's outfit comes into view. No, he will never get fully used to Nocker's. "Sweet Dreams are made of these" he mutters under his breathe in lieu of profanity . Then he's brought before Ima, "I've been good, you?"

"And you two will be good? During Court? Everyone is here."

Miriam - "Yeah, you know." She shrugs. "Getting better. Each day, a little. I guess." Awkward pause. "Nice voile."

Ratchet - "Good? What good? Of course good!" His cheeks glow and passes the flask back to Hirim. "You're beautiful, bubalah."

"Oh, thanks, I feel a little under...glowing after seeing Hirim." He admits to Miriam, then smiles, Truly impressed, "Your work on Zara's outfit is incredible. I mean, she's always been beautiful to me, but that outfit on her is transcendent."

"Thank you, Onkl. Miriam is amazing, isn't she? And her friend Gwenyth did my hair!"

He glances Zara's way as he takes her and her outfit in again.

He wishes he had his paints, but instead he commits it to memory.

Miriam - "Yeah? Feel that strong about her?" The nocker stares directly at him.

He looks at her, "Yes. I do. I love her." He says softly, "Very much. She thinks I only see the best of her, but I know she's complex and frustrating and flawed more than she thinks. My stomach twists when she's angry at me. My world brightens when she smiles at me. And when she withdraws entirely from me because she's sad I feel like some dark hand has hidden the moon from my night. And I hope to high dreaming the chatter of the others is drowning this out because she may kill me if she hears i told you this, but hey, you asked."

Mirim blinks at the declaration, then squints more closely at him, and glances over at the flask-sharing Uncles. "Ya screw this up, Masters are gonna kill ya. Not to mention that I'm gonna do. Verschtay? Nothin' personal, we'd be gunning for anyone.

"I'm a troll, and a DeBuke. I understand what you do for family," He nodded, "But what do you want me to do? lie about it? You ever have someone you love so much you would rather be set on fire than see them cry? I know it's Beltaine so some...moods are on high , but...that's how I feel."

His voice still very soft and whispering, and if he can, timed with the chatter of other nockers. He doesn't want to embarrass Zara with his declarations.

"Yeah. Zara." Miriam doesnt particularly bother to keep her voice down, bit doesn't yell either. "But that's different, nu?"

"It is," He nods, respecting her answer.

"Look, the Masters.... I was away. Got to know her, ya know. Again. But, older. They still see a childling. Takes some work, getting used to." She scowls. "Even for me."

"I know that," He says nodding, "but she's turning into an amazing woman. And...as for me ? 'Even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness'" Earl says with a weak smile, "She's happy now, more happy than I've ever seen her. So I don't want to push or pull or anything...but she makes me feel like more, and I think I make her happy too. Arrogant maybe. So I want to be by her side as long as she'll allow. I know it's not easy for you or the Uncles and such...but if you try to hold her back, to keep her as a childling she's not, you'll lose her. with or without me, you'll lose her."

"Me, I'm not looking to keep her a child." A clenched jaw. "That ship sailed. But, -you- gotta live with the Masters. You got a craft, or just walk around being tall? Art, right? Ya -make- anything?"

"I remember making a shield wall of my paintings to keep the cold out, I think," he sighs, "And on the farm, I helped raise a barn. I wasn't as strong as the others, but i knew where the lay needed to be, which wall to go first," He looks at her, "But my art IS my craft. It may not seem practical to some, it may not be used for anything besides the beauty or feelings it stirs, but it's not empty or without purpose, and it's real. Art has inspired invention... De Vinci's works, science fiction leads to science fact... I know what you're trying to say, but if the uncles can't accept me as an artist, I'm not sure they can ever accept me because its' not just what I do, it's who I am."

"Well, if you're going to make a case for Beauty being fuckin' life, today's the day." She doesn't seem to notice any 'slip' of language.

He smiles at that, "Thank you, Miriam."

Hirim has been elbowed and flasked into admitting that Zara looks nice.

Zara's senses inform her of the eyewatering nature of the flask contents. Both Uncles are exceptionally rosey-cheeked.

Miriam eyes Earl again. "Yeah, whatever. You gonna -do- something or just paint about it later?"