#scarsdale

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Zara stirs, having slept many hours.

There is no troll to snuggle with

She pouts.

But... well.. there are steps. The dozing Bronte gets a gentle pat before she pricks her fingertip to offer a ruby droplet to 1122.

1122 takes it gratefully

"Aye, you needed that, didn't you? I shall get thee popcorn after I check on Earl."

The sluagh hums softly to herself - well, most would find the broken noise unpleasant, but it is happy enough - and collects her tools. A silver bowl. A pitcher of water. A pinch of fine blonde hair trimmings.

Zara pous the water in the bowl, moving the pitcher in a slow widdershins spiral. "The hunter is hunted, the hunter I see, clear water reveal my hunter to me..." She sprinkles the hair into the water.

The static that she had to break through last time is still there, but oh she knows her hunter well, and has little trouble moving past that. his golden hairs form a pattern , and then that pattern forms a path and then she sees...

She leans close, intent.

With a look of profound Patience, Earl is painting, oh he's in New Orleans, but the Nocker lady in KNightly armor (And Beaumayn colors) leans against a sidhe of that house. They pose for the artist

She raises an eyebrow.

"I shoulda worn the furkin' dress" The lady knight says out of the side of her mouth to her husband/trueheart/boyfriend? he says back "But you've changed twice already. Third time is the charm, it's fine."

Earl keeps painting. Did he see the book already? Surely he must have

She pivots, getting a good look at Earl's face as he works.

Anyone else might see him as patient, delighted and humoring...but no, this is patient, but indulgent, and wishing they'd move faster.

She kenns him through the cantrip, looking for foreign glamour.

Not on him, but near him..something he carries...

And what does he carry...

Her "eyes" batter about, like the dusty wings of a moth, seeking answers...

It's dark, thank goodness she can see in the dark. The paper is hidden in the canvas of a painting. He's using it to smuggle whatever it is out.

Her clever hunter! A ghostly 'kiss', not that he could sense it...

However, coming as an artist has for the moment entrapped him. "Should I try for a more adoring, or supportive expression?" the sidhe asks

Earl says "I think we can get both, sir"

While he might be trapped, he seems in no danger from the pair... and so, Zara lingers. She spares little attention for the lovers, not when she may watch the artist instead.

He could rush it, perhaps even half ass it, but though he is not a nocker, he cannot give less than his best anymore than her uncles could.

And that, amongst many reasons, is part of why she loves him.

So it forms, rich colors for her spirals, a glow about him, and more...the way they banter and preen, not for their own vanity, but to please each other.

How they fit as they stand together.

It takes time, but when he's done... "Here, tell me what you think?"

They stare, the nocker blinks "Shit, even I look pretty good. Mind you, not sure the chimerical composition of your painting is ideal for these humid areas...." //"Darliinnnng" The sidhe says "He captured your beauty. I'm forever grateful"//"I was just saying the paint, the job.. the job aint... ain't drek" The lady nocker rubs at her eye "See..humidity already"

A soft laugh, in Scarsdale.

"I'm glad it meets your approval" Earl bows "Give it time to dry, but it is yours. And, thank you so much for the payment."

"Hey, work is work" The nocker sniffs, more humidity no doubt.

Nockers. She lingers, waiting for her beloved to start his way home.

Fortunately, with the fellow sidhe is more social, he is focused on his beloved. So Earl is allowed to escape. And soon makes his way to the trods.

And drawing his sword slightly, he veils his departure.

It takes him about an hour to get to Scarsdale..

she knows he's approacing

Zara is waiting in the kitchen, with snacks.

Earl returns, and says in a whisper "Hi honey, I'm home"

It's her cooking, not Hannah's - rugelach, to be exact. "My clever Hunter, aye."

"Come, come, sit, eat... be rewarded for thy cleverness..." She catches him in her arms and greets him with kisses.

"You peeked" A playful accusation

"I peeked. And got to watch thee paint."

And he kisses her back, setting his canvas down

"No wonder it came out so nice, it always comes out better when you watch"

A soft chuff. "Flatterer." She snatches up a chocolate-filled cookie and teasingly drags it across his lips.

He takes a bit, savors it, "sweet"