The Wicked Taste of Whimsy [CLOSED: Ciel, Ashley, Mabel]

[El]

Perched upon the shingles of a moon-bathed rooftop, a silhouette watched. It observed with eyes of unblinking gold, a gleam of focused intent that outlined the ridges of its fingers, chin cupped upon its palm in silent repose. The stillness of the figure was disturbed only by the cool breath of the evening breeze, as it ran its slender hands through the tousled side-swept waves of brilliant blue. The locks shimmered. Glistened. Caught the light like ripples upon lakewater. In one spare - ungloved - hand a glass rested, its exotically-coloured contents swirling with the absentminded roll of a wrist. But no motions were ever made to taste it.

Crickets continued their sleepless chorus. Leaves rustled against muffled laughter and the clink of tankards. Somewhere a baby cried, but then began a lullaby and back into restful slumber it slipped. The air was fresh, but tasted oddly bitter as the figure sat in solitude amidst the buzzing nightlife of Hateno Village.

Then, finally, the moment Ciel had been waiting for arrived.

Stumbling, disorientated and rambling to himself under his breath, a young man of tawny hair and freckled complexion exited the tavern opposite. He swayed upon his feet, pausing against the support of one of those oddly gigantic mushroom installations as he fought against the impulse to wretch up his innards. He won - eventually - and with a small sob continued on his wayward amble. Ciel watched him for a while, simply observing until he'd made his way around a corner and into a more deserted alleyway.

Good. That was good.

Firmly capping his still filled glass with the palm of his ungloved hand, Ciel pounced down from the rooftop with the delicate - nay, almost soundless - press of bootsoles on trodden grass. Only a few strides more and there he was, blocking the drunkard's path.

But it took the young man moments too long to notice, his vision no doubt impaired by his inebriated state. He stumbled forever onward, sighing between groans of sickness, drawing to an abrupt halt only when the shadow Ciel cast proved too large to ignore. Up his blue eyes trailed, a hiccup staining his breath when the stranger was presented with a most peculiar cocktail - Ciel had extended his glass.

"W-Wha...? Who? Y'know what I'un even-... 'is just. Eugh." He tried to swat it away, but missed: Ciel hadn't moved, the drunkard's aim was just that bad. "I aint 'avin any of at!" The man spat, incensed with frustration that curdled with confusion.

Was he suspicious? Well, that made sense. Accepting a drink from a stranger in a dark alleyway was probably not the sort of logic anyone with half a brain would accept - not even drunk one, evidently. Very well, he supposedly needed evidence it was safe to consume. Even if he'd already gone through the trouble to decant it into a more pleasing vessel.

Huffing a quiet breath through his nose, Ciel raised his naked palm up to his lips: pausing, just once, to angle it just so, displaying traces of the colourful drink layered slick across the pale skin. See? He seemed to ask with the lift of an eyebrow, and then when he was sure the drunkard had registered his point, Ciel traced his tongue across the sticky flesh. Over the wrist, across the supple pads, up the dimples of his joints until with a flick of his tongue he lapped finally at his fingertip.

Harmless, no?

His golden gaze scrutinised the stranger's face, but to Ciel's silent frustration - but tickled pride - the man's suspicion had only intensified: a flustered heat now burned at his cheeks and ears, but his brow had puckered deeper than before.

Tch. With a sliding lick of his lips, Ciel's tongue retreated for good. Oh well. Whatever.

He turned to leave.

"W-WAIT!!!" -Only to find his wrist snagged by the drunkard's sluggishly violent grip. "You-... why do ah-.. I mean, I, why do I feel like I recognise you?"

That made the Beaumont smile. With a small laugh he lightly tugged his hand free: an effort that became far easier once the drunkard realised Ciel was simply trying to reach inside his jacket. A moment later he presented a heavily fragranced envelope, the name 'Edgar' swirled in cursive font across its front.

"F-for me...? But I... wait, this is-!!!" Edgar snatched the letter from the courier's grasp, brutishly tearing into it and fumbling to unfurl the parchment.

Ciel took a sip of his elixir, watching over the rim of his glass as the drunkard's face went through several shades of intense emotion. "But this can't be?!" Edgar half-laughed, half-choked. "I thought his Mother didn't approve of us?! I thought he-... I thought we-..." Tears gleamed across his eyes. His shaking lips pressed together as he struggled to hold himself in one piece.

"Hold on. This meeting time-! WAIT!!! THAT'S RIGHT NOW, ISN'T IT?!"

Ciel gave a small nod of confirmation.

"SHIT! I might not even make it!! I have to go! I HAVE GO NOW!!!" And so off he went, tripping over his own feet as he blasted past Beaumont with amusingly startling speed: A for effort, D- for grace. But somehow he managed to NOT land on his face and successfully swerved around the corner.

...And then Ciel was alone again.

Sigh.

Unfortunate. Well, more so for Edgar than for Ciel himself.

He swirled the glass as he gazed down into its contents: vibrant streaks of indigo blue and teal coiled around stripes of electric yellow. It glittered under the limited light and moved like oil, a viscous creation of a most peculiar taste. Supposedly it was a constitution-boosting elixir. It had been crafted by a notable alchemist from the combination of Rugged Rhino Beetle shell, Hearty Lizard scales and juiced Moblin guts. From its poignant scent, it appeared he'd also laced it with a sharp combination of Hebra mint and Goron Spice: perhaps in a last-minute and failed effort to make it sound more palatable. Nonetheless, soldiers and fighters both were reputably its favoured customers, for downing this creation just before big fights or gruelling missions would bolster their endurance past double its usual capabilities, sober the mind and even neutralise any poisons while it still lingered in your system. Pretty impressive stuff.

Tastes like shit though.

It felt like a waste, but Ciel wasn't going to drag himself through an unpleasant experience for such a shoddy reason. So he pulled away the glass and JUST as he was about to flick his wrist and empty its contents across the floor- a familiar face popped back around the corner.

Ciel raised his eyebrows, paused in mid-motion.

"That drink...?" Edgar called out, visibly questioning himself even as the words left his lips. "What in the living Depths actually is it?"

Oh? Had the Hylian felt the ominous tickle of his instinct after all?

With silent laughter, the courier lifted a glowing finger and traced out a path of glittering light: effectively drawing the rudimentary shape of a knight's shield in the night air. Yeah, it was pretty basic - a symbol at best - but Ciel really didn't care enough to elaborate even more. ...Though perhaps he should've, considering how long Edgar remained there, lips pursed in fierce, internal debate. So long in fact that seconds dragged out into moments and the glow of Ciel's doodle drooped, fading entirely as it fell.

Thankfully however, just as the Beaumont's bemusement was starting to wear thin, the drunkard made up his mind and dashed back towards him. With not even a second more wasted on hesitation he seized Ciel's hand in both of his own, the clammy, hot palms squeezing him tight as he lifted the glass up to his mouth and downed it whole.

Impressive! The courier's mouth curled into a bewitching grin.

It took the poor guy several moments of dry-heaving like a cat choking on a hairball before he recollected himself, but collect himself he did! "OK! THANKS, BUD!" He blurted far too loudly, burping then apologising before quickly turning around again. "I'm really off now! BYE-BYE!"

...And then Ciel was alone again.

Only this time, there was heat upon his hand. He lifted it, almost swearing that he could see the points at which Edgar's skin had pressed against his. ...Or maybe that was just the sweat. His heart stirred in his chest, a warmth glazing across his eyes, until he rotated the specimen of his hand and remembered the fragile glass stem it held.

Ah. He wanted to smash it.

He wanted to dash it against the wall and watch it glitter into a thousand sharp pieces.

Fragile things were like that: so easily broken, and so easily tempting their own destruction. But no. No it was too pretty for that, Ciel decided. So instead he set the empty glass down upon a stack of cargo boxes at the corner of the alleyway as he left, abandoning it to its own fate. He didn't however waste any effort in placing it properly, so while saved from sudden destruction in that moment, it teetered precariously still upon the edge of demise: left as easy prey to a strong gale or a stray cat's paw.

Had Edgar twigged? Ciel wondered.

For the letter he had presented him with was a forgery: no creation of his lover's at all, but rather the bait of a trap laid out by a most vicious 'mother-in-law'. Whatever fate awaited Edgar couldn't be well-meaning, but perhaps now he stood more of a chance, having decided to try his luck with a familiar stranger's surreptitious elixir.

------

With a subtle skip to her step, pigtails of ringlets bounced down the mainstreet of Hateno: Ciel's figure now that of evidently feminine structure. The night had aged into depths where few still remained outside to enjoy it. The inns and taverns had grown quieter and fewer lights glowed upon the horizon as candles were snuffed and beds succumbed to.

After rinsing her hand off in a little stream round back, Ciel had slipped her glove back into place and was debating how best to spend the rest of her free time when a sight most curious caught her eye. Her stride slowed. Her mouth pursed. Following the strand of impulse, she followed her gaze right up to the glass panes of a window: the window of Ventest Clothing Boutique to be precise.

Hmn~. Ciel had heard rumours that CeCe was working on a lingerie line but alas, that was not what she spied. No. Not at all. But just because it wasn't what she thought, didn't mean it wasn't worth her attention at all.

It was incredibly ugly, she couldn't help but think. Positively ridiculous, as much of this brand was. Buuuut... stupidity could be magnetic. She wanted to wear it, just once.

The locks shouldn't be too complex, right? It was just a fashion house. It should be easy enough for her to break her way in and give it a whirl, and just as easy to weasel her way out of any tricky scenarios if a stray staff member was still lurking around. While the majority of the lights in the establishment had been extinguished, at least one lantern must've remained awake: for it was that very amber glow which had illuminated this new centre-piece of 'mushroom majesty'.

Want.

[AmJanky]

Ashley tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to straighten the damn thing and keep it from strangling him.

Mabel, his twin sister, and he had been planning to go on a trip for a while now. A trip that would span the entire length and width of Hyrule. See the sights, meet some monsters, possibly probably likely get into dangerous situations, experience the cultures and eat the foods. That sort of thing. It was going to keep them away from Hateno for a while.

This being one of the few nights they had left in their hometown, he was out to enjoy it  thoroughly, informing neither his parents nor his sister (for a change).

When the night had been a little younger, he had first admired the sunset over the silhouette of Hateno, its windmills and the laboratory hill making a stark contrast to the slowly darkening sky. A view he had always loved and was sometimes even graced by the dragon Naydra slowly making its way around the laboratory.

And after that had plans to meet with someone he'd met with a couple times before.
They had bonded over a conversation about the Dueling Peaks Stable and how the family that ran it consisted of many identical twins. Common ground easily found, they spent some time together whenever the stablehand was near to pick up a rented horse. Letting the horse roam near the old Hateno Racetrack while they kept each other company.

Ashley had simply forgotten time had even existed. When he offered the stablehand would stay over the rest of the night - since it had become very late - he got the excuse of having an early morning and was left to preamble back to town alone to the sound of horse hooves retreating into the opposite direction. Which was not to say his night hadn't been fruitful, quite the contrary.

Was it from there that his shirt had become a little obstinate? He fixed it, again.

While futzing once every few steps he had entered the town, crossing under the entrance bow by now. Night had properly fallen a fair few hours ago, the mostly empty street lit by the strange mushroom sculptures Cece had installed everywhere.

The self proclaimed designer returned a few years ago with grand ideas for the town and herself, mostly herself. She had boujee'd the heck out of the simple armor store and thrown her 'artistry' around with reckless abandon. It hadn't sat well with everyone, but Ashley had found it at least a little inspiring.

He just thought mushrooms were a bit of an odd pick, and wouldn't have gone for something so discussably priapic. One could call it an obsession and he did. Still, even though the hat and full set of clothes consisted of entirely too much mushroom, the earrings were absolutely adorable and he simply had to have them. On his person. Right now.

He huffed annoyed while he once again straightened the damn shirt, pulling at the back of the collar to try and get the front stay out of his business. Only then did it occur to him.
"Damn it, I put it on backwards." He cussed softly. It wouldn't be long before he got home anyway, problem solved.


Were it not that his eyes caught a figure with their nose nearly pressed up to the glass of the armor shop, come Fashion Emporium. Admiration glinting on their features - though that could have simply been the shimmer of the mushroom shaped lamps - eyeing the wonderfully crafted, terribly floofy creation shimmering in the same glow. He knew that feeling, they had to have it. On their person. Right now.

When he got closer he recognized the figure as a girl - or woman, rather - by the looks of her long hair. She was dressed weirdly nonconforming to her figure, though. Or maybe she did - considering Mable wore vests all the time too -  but it was the well placed lace and ruffles that did it, not the cut of her coat. It had more jewels and embroidery on it than Ashley had ever dared to put on his sister.

While he admired the make of the coat it caught him that she looked strangely familiar- like he'd read something that followed her description. Was it Stacey's little rumor column or Gaebora's Goldmine?


"Aren't you the Blue Fairy?" Unable to keep his curiosity contained. "It's awfully well-crafted, isn't it?" He gestured at the abundance of lace and sparkling gems laden mushroom cap she was admiring through the window. His tone and emphasis on awful leaving little to the imagination.

[El]

"Aren't you the Blue Fairy?"

A new voice - a refreshing cadence - slipped in through the gaps of Ciel's thoughts. With a sidewards glance she took in her new companion, her surprise melting away into a quiet joy that glittered in her eyes.

His appearance - both hereditary and purposeful - was more on the unique side, a colourful palette combined with a creative touch: an artist perhaps? The garb wasn't lavishly-expensive enough in its materials to identify him as simply a noble with a taste for the aesthetics. No, his posture wasn't correct for that either. His stance was indeed conscious of lingering eyes, self-aware vanity cutting a rather handsome form, but it was not rigorously trained - not flawless. And as much as Ciel had half a mind to think the worst of his visionary and innovative abilities given her jealousy of his remarkably similar hair colour - the audacity - his introduction was humorously pleasant:

"It's awfully well-crafted, isn't it?"

Very well, he was allowed to be an artist.

Ciel giggled, the mirth a tinkling chime in her slender throat: the emphasised double-meaning of his description was not lost on her. Oh how entertaining the common Hylian tongue could be! Sometimes she truly loathed how limited her own abilities were, unable to truly partake in the lyrical gymnastics of riddles and devious punship. But she could do something, and that something she did, mischief glinting across her teeth as the rouge of her lips curled wider.

Words that could not be spoken were instead brought to life at the tip of a conducting finger: painted within the small space between the two strangers, glittering with a gentle but ethereal glow of pretty, cursive script masterfully - notably - written mirrored so it was actually legible to him:

Awfully innovative or perhaps-... just backwards?

Her golden eyes took a long, meaningful glance down at the man's uncomfortably-tugged collar. Well, if it WAS a fashion choice Ciel wasn't one to judge: she'd rather see a 'reversal' trend over just another sad pair of old brown slacks and the same cream shirt anyday. Goddesses forbid someone in Hyrule actually had enough personality to do something different.

But...

The writing dispersed prematurely. The illumination faded. Silently shattered in a burst of glitter, THROUGH the short-lived calligraphy the Blue Fairy leaned. Closer. Nearer. Suddenly there, all up in the man's personal space.

...The soft abrasion of a silk-lace glove lightly brushed against one of the stranger's earlobes.

With admiring bemusement Ciel took in the sight of the mushroom stud: understated, but very cute. Over its metallic face her thumb brushed, to feel the glint as much as she observed it. She was just about to remark how the man must actually be a CeCe fan - despite his barbs - when in lifting her stare her eyes met his and instead observed something altogether more new: his irises weren't just different shades from one another, they were different colours. She hadn't immediately noticed, given the diminished light and the cover of his tinted shades.

How pretty.

Something clicked then inside of Ciel. An idea was born. A decision was made. And all in the same moment her smile bloomed into a vibrant grin and closer still she drew, winding the fingers of her other hand through his. Assuming he didn't reject her advances and her capture was successful, away she spirited him, tugging him into the darkness of an alley. It was just around the corner, but it was far more covert, shielded better from any lingering souls on the main street not just by architectural geometry but by the vast amount of large ceramics also.

A finger pressed to her lips, but it was only when her eyes motioned towards the Boutique's side window that she put her intent in writing:

Keep a lookout for me?

Coy, sweet, she tilted her head to one side just slightly, enjoying the subtle bounce of her babyblue ringlets. She debated a wink but decided it against it, instead punctuating her criminal request with a cute little drawing:

~♥~

Perhaps it was a dangerous gamble to besmirch her reputation infront of someone who evidently had recognised her. But, well, let's be honest, who would people believe if he decided to throw around some nasty rumours: him, or her?

The luminosity of her golden eyes appeared to quite literally glow as they subtly, just slightly narrowed, crinkling at their corners with devious but endearing mirth.

Ciel enjoyed a gamble.

[Sav'saaba]

Mabel

There, spic and span!

The girl sighed as she straightened her back, appreciating the neatly made bed, its linen coverings tightly tucked around the mattress and wafting of sundelion and swift violet. Tourists could be such pigs.
This last room had taken her longer to clean than usual, what with the enigmatic substance -like Chu jelly, but not quite?- that she had to scrub off the ceiling with a heavy duty cleaning concoction, the starting-to-go-off moblin guts left behind a closet and the rich Hateno soil that had been tracked in all over the carpeting and various upholstery, but if she hurried home now and took a shortcut she would still have a little over five hours before her shift at the general store would start. That meant roughly four hours of sleep.

Absolutely luxurious.

Endure it Mabel, just a little bit more until you're off on your adventure with Ash and you will forget aaall about mops and monster entrails. Or maybe not, but in a different context those could be a good thing! Believe it! Life is all about your frame of reference!

Over the past few months, she had been working herself to the bone, squirreling away every single green rupee in preparation for the Grand Tour of Hyrule. During the day, she would help out at the East Wind, keeping the merchandise stocked, work the register or wave in potential customers whenever her friend and colleague Ivee wanted to switch tasks or take a break. Mabel liked the job, for the shop's patronage consisted largely of adventurers passing through and looking to stock up on their provisions, and they brought with them stories of the world outside safe, utterly boring Hateno, where cows outpopulated the actual population.

It was how the seed for the journey she was about to embark on had been planted and germinated, every mention of a found treasure, mysterious cave or exotic settlement nourishing the vague wish into this big ambition.

Being a barker in front of the shop was a crapshoot; either it was the best part of the entire day -seeing all these new and interesting faces pass by and getting to talk to them as the sun warmed her back, or the worst- courtesy of Manny.

It wasn't that she hated or even disliked the portly fellow that always smelled a little ...mature, not at all, she had no reason to because he had been nothing if not gentlemanly to her. It was just that she was very much not receptive of his awkward advances, and he just didn't seem to catch on.

At all.

Was she cruel for this? In her defense, she had tried to let him know, only maybe not in so many words. Mabel couldn't just say to his face that, frankly, he and his obvious attempts at wooing her rubbed her the wrong way and even made him come off a little creepy, could she? That would probably crush him.

After he had seen her around the village once with her pet Fireproof Lizard, he had presented her with ten of the critters when they met next, and she had tried to let him down gently by stammering a word of thanks but that she really only liked the one that was her pet.
The look on his face had been heartbreaking, not in the least because collecting ten Fireproof Lizards couldn't have been a cakewalk, but she couldn't just accept and give him the wrong idea, either.
What was she going to do with ten of the beasties, anyway? Cook them into an elixir? Talk about heartbreaking!

The East Wind girls had made it into a sport between them to saddle the other with thirsty Manny and sneak out the back after-hours, and leave only one of them to suffer embarrassing pick-up lines and stale monologues.
That.. really wasn't very nice of them, she admitted.

Her friend probably was even less interested in a romance with Manny than Mabel was -albeit not for lack of trying on Manny's side- because there was that guy from the Dueling Peaks Stable that Ivee was smitten with.
Mabel herself on the other hand simply had zero interest in any boy, really.
Not any attainable boy at least, Mabel C. "three times president of the fanclub of the Queen's most trusted knight" Darigan conceded.

All in all, the East Wind was a nice place to be employed at, even if mr. Pruce was a bit of a miser. Because of the rather low wages, the young mage had taken up the side-gig at the inn during the nights.

Prima and Worten had initially offered she'd work the front desk during the nights so they could both retire to the marital bed during the same hours, but Mabel had gracefully declined, despite that particular position being right up her alley, and much less demanding than cleaning up after absolute slobs.

She had rejected the opportunity simply because her family could not find out that she had taken up another job. Dad would forbid her, and lecture her that her well-being came first, and mom would insist on her getting six to eight hours of sleep every night.
But she was young, and healthy, and strong, she got this!

Besides, it was only a temporary thing, until she had saved up just a little more to ensure the round trip of Hyrule would turn out a success. Everything costs money, and a lot of it: supplies, places to sleep, horses to rent...  She was so desperate to prove to them that she could take care of herself now. That she wasn't a kid anymore that needed coddling.

Worten was at the front desk when she bid him goodnight and she exited into the sleepy street.

Was she going to go straight home? She ought to if she wanted to not resemble a gibdo in both appearance and mental capacities in the morning.

Old enough to know better, young enough to not care, she took the long way around instead, to take in the sights of Hateno by night, now that she still could.

Slipping in and out of the more shadowed parts of the village with quiet footfalls to avoid Manny the Unsleeping, she whimsically decided she wanted to finally take a close look at what was on display at Ventest Fashion, now that the usual throngs of CeCe zealots that were glued with their noses to the panes and queued up before the entrance during the day were likely to be on one ear somewhere.

Suddenly, her palms tingled and sparked and it took her by surprise. That had only happened a few times before, when her mom had demonstrated a spell so powerful she pulled all the stops on her magical energies. Such strong magic, in bumfuck Hateno, and it wasn't her mom's doing? It definitely couldn't be, because when Mabel was done with the dishes and snuck out to go to the inn earlier that night, mom and dad had both been out cold on the couch in the living room, their limbs twined around one another, and whenever they got like that they'd sleep through to the morning, and then have a full day of moaning and complaining about their aching joints and backs to look forward to. She was glad her parents evidently still liked each other and all that but seeing this mushy display she figured it really was nothing short of a miracle that she didn't have more siblings to ruin her life- no, nope, NO, G R O S S, push away that thought!

This presence of magic, that was... peculiar. And maybe a little unsettling. Having recently been taught to suppress her physical reaction to magic when desired, the young mage did so and paid it no further mind, because up ahead the boutique was coming into view. Besides, it wasn't as if anything exciting ever happened in Hateno. Everyone was still reeling from the election a few years ago. Riveting!
Imagine Mabel's disappointment that even now, at this ungodly hour, there was someone standing at the boutique's window, gawking. And rather unabashedly, too.

Familiar footfalls with dito build and posture coming up from the direction of  the village gate then sent her into panic because of course her twin was going to ask what the hell she was doing here -wait but why was HE here and not conked out in his bed?!-, and she ducked behind one of the mushroom installations that dotted the village, to silently spy on the events that were about to unfold.

[AmJanky]

The sparkling writing she left in the air to communicate meant the rumor that she did not speak held true.

But what was true or false about this almost ethereal noble? He tried to remember what had stuck with him, but having only glanced through Who's Who? column of Gaebora's Goldmine and not read the text well enough to truly commit it to memory he came up short. The pamphlet obviously rumor based, hearsay, perhaps even slanderous.

It would seem to Ashley the grapevines the nobility picked from were so thick with foliage and fruit, they produced not only the finest wines but numerous opportunities to hear through. It would not surprise him if the hearing and the drinking of said fine wine was done at the same time. If there was one thing you could count on from nobles, it was that they were bored, producing said weird pamphlets and slander.

And the general public would gobble up anything even remotely news-worthy, there was the whole mess about the near extinct Dondon not too long ago, this 'news' about the blue fairy just the next sentence in a long line of the whisper game going from stable to stable across Hyrule.


He read the words she painted in the sky. Backwards? He followed her gaze to his skewed shirt collar.

"Well, this old thing? Wasn't aiming for a statement to be honest." Convenience had been the theme, rather than fashion. Foregoing an excuse about rounded collars and the impossible task of telling front from back with no further hints to go on but 'is round on both sides' and only the light of the moon for guidance. The how and why it came to be backwards was better left where it was. He did make a quick mental note to add something to the collar of this shirt to be able to distinguish front from back.

But before he could utter anything more she leaned in very close. One gloved hand feeling around the silver mushroom stud in his ear.
And with this close proximity Ashley got a different perspective. it bloomed into something entirely conflicting - there was more to her than met the eye, if only he could remember what he had read. Despite the crisp night air a blush flushed his cheeks.
He willingly let her other hand feel around his fingers, clasp his hand in hers, while she stared through the tinted glass on his nose. Until a minute ago he'd been entirely sure of himself, now as the two radiant eyes glowing in the warm light peered into his, he was questioning his very existence.

"I-" He was going to voice the conflicting feeling until the sentence ended in an involuntary "Whuup." as he was pulled away into the alley alongside the shop.

Keep a lookout for me?
~♥~

Adding a deviously enticing and entirely too cute to bear grin to the bobbing of her blue pin curls, he could naught but agree.

"Sure." I guess.

He did not expect many others outside at this hour, just playing the look out should be easy enough. But hadn't at all spotted that his twin had been close enough to witness what had just transpired.

[El]

The responding giggle might've been silent, but it was visible, glittering in her eyes with unrestrained delight. That one simple word sounded so sweet. Sure, perhaps it lacked the-.... pizzazz of excitement, muted instead by an uncertainty that troubled his blushing bearing, but indecision was as delectable a spice too - especially when SHE was the source of it!

What a cutie.

To business then! Scandalous, unlawful, glamorous business!

Wasting not a second more Ciel twirled around to face the window proper. Only briefly distracted by her own beautiful reflection did she then reach out her gloved hands, delicately settling them on the lowest panes of glass, resting them, pressing them-... only for nothing to occur. Huh. So some people in this village DID lock their windows!

Tch. She shouldn't have underestimated CeCe, she supposed. But the Beaumont's face was not marred by the pout for long, as into her vest her hand slipped, procuring a dazzling blue business card upon its exit: its metallic sheen imprinted at its centre by a golden, sextuple-ferned rupee. The fact that she didn't pause to test the structural integrity of the chosen tool, nor did she invest any more time into examining the lock itself, probably said enough about her habits and... well, previous experiences. With a deft, practiced hand into the wooden frame she slid the card and UP she popped the latch! It was a satisfying sound to be sure, even muted as it was by the thick sheets of glass.

Now when she pressed on the window it opened, a gentle woosh of cool night air fluttering through her ringlets before passing into the cramped and stale side-room. A stack of papers on a desk directly below the window rustled. The scent of vased flowers tickled her nose. And for a brief flash of a second, Ciel's poor little counterfeit heart jolted up into her throat: taken off-guard by the whole ARRAY of dressed mannequins set up in the shadows of a corner directly beside her - one was even hooded!!! A hooded head FACING THE WINDOW - facing HER! ...Thankfully they weren't actually guards though. Not even people. As soon as her vision focused, the truth of their ominous forms was revealed to her in all its detailed deception! Her tension eased. Her breath resumed. And as quietly as she could Ciel drew in a breath to compose herself - though it still tittered into an embarrassed giggle.

With the window ajar, inwards the Blue Fairy then crept, pouncing up onto and over the 'sill with deathly-silent grace. Carefully she dodged the writing desk, squeezing the soles of her boots instead into the cramped crevices of cluttered furniture, until at last she tiptoed onto the relief of unimpeded floorboards. Her heels pressed down to rest. She took a moment to fix her vest. But it wasn't long before her glowing eyes scoured her surroundings proper, devouring all the secrets laid bare to her prying delights. And oooooh~, oh yes indeed there were secrets to be had!

Upon the desk she'd just passed sat several stacks of books: books, she quickly noticed, which contained diaries. There were sketchbooks here too, scrapbooks packed with collaged materials she could see peeking out of the bursting pages, open notebooks tagged with bookmarks and abandoned notes decorated with scribbles. How delicious! Ciel had originally crept here with the intent to simply try on the horrifically glorious creation of a hat enshrined further within the establishment, but how could she resist this too...? Just look at it all! Sat there, waiting! Neglected! BEGGING for attention! Why it'd be criminal not to peel through all the layers.

Oh, right, her newest friend - wasn't he of the fashion inclination also? If not a designer himself then at least an admirer of sorts, a friend of the field so to speak. A most wicked smile graced her glossed lips, her teeth catching the moonlight as much as her eyes did. The next time he spared a glance back in her direction she seized the nearest sketchbook and raised it up into the Hylian's line of sight - its pages splayed wide open. She quirked a fine brow of mischievous invitation.

[Sav'saaba]

A tryst beneath a star-speckled sky... A good sister would have retreated into the shadows to leave her twin to his private, intimate matters. But a good sister also could not simply ignore the discrepancy that kept her nailed to the spot, one that was even beside the matter of Ashley's utter disregard of private property.

If anyone other than Mabel took notice of him and his companion breaking into and entering Cece's boutique, there would be Big Trouble. Big Trouble had a penchant for putting plans into peril. Plans she had been carefully carving out and preparing for, with the skin on her knuckles raw from the incensed scrubbing she had done and an ache in her face from forcing smiles for customers all day, all of it just to scrounge up enough funds for a round trip of Hyrule. She was so close to reaching the goal she had set, too.

Was Ashley really going to ruin it for the both of them with an act of burglary?
No, that couldn't be. She knew her brother, knew his heart.  Ashley was not a criminal. Whatever it was they were doing, she trusted her twin. They might quibble, and squabble, and sometimes, albeit exceedingly rare these days, she had thought him an insufferable imp, but there was no way she would leave without him. Ever. Or have him be put on rations of stale bread and brackish water.

Mabel's brow scrunched in thought as she witnessed the pair of miscreants pull off their heist, her fingers smoothing and fiddling with the end of her plait. What should she do? If she were to follow them inside, who knew what would happen. With a clumsy sway of a limb over the window sill she could potentially send one of the mannequins clattering to the floor. Or if she startled Ashley with her entrance, his shrieking would be loud enough to wake up the dead, or... or... or-

She was going to stay put, and stand watch underneath the monstrous fungus wrought of wood and textile. Not having been given a different choice, she would be a reluctant accomplice to whatever her brother and his associate were up to, and keep Big Trouble at bay. Considering the hour, that should be easy enough, she comforted herself.
Hateno's populace consisted still mostly of industrious farmers who would rise before the first crowing of the cuccos to tend to the livestock, after which they'd take the hoe to hand and toil in the fields until it was time to return home shortly before sundown, the only balm for their wearied bodies an early night. As such, a bustling nightlife was not among Hateno's otherwise many selling points.
 
Mabel's gaze swept along the path that wound through the village, and up and down the stucco-covered brick facades as she strained to listen for anything other than the chirping of crickets, the sussuration of the nearby stream and the breeze sighing through the many vegetable patches. As time passed, her worriedness eased, a sense of security burgeoning from those familiar sounds of night. Somewhere off in the Ginner woods sounded the mating call of a nocturnal bird that had often kept her awake, and eventually it was joined by that of another species.

"♪ Love's fiiire buuurns forever. ♪"


Oh, oh no. Of course Manny would be out and about at this hour, as self-proclaimed defender of Hateno. With a few more strides, he would make it around the bend, and after that Ventest Clothing would soon pop into his line of sight.


Think, Mabel. If you don't do something, Manny the Zealous will instigate Big Trouble.

"Hi Manny!" she quietly called out, leaving her hiding place and scurried to meet him. "Mabel? What are you doing out here?" Manny asked, his plump lower lip a little slack with surprise at this unplanned rendez-vous.

"Oh, me? I, uh, was just having a stroll. It's such a nice night. Don't you agree?"

"Uhhh, I guess," Manny shrugged, "Well, I'll need to continue on my patrol. You never know what kind of suspicious individuals could be prowling about." 

So very suspicious that he had no scruples with leaving a lass all alone. Manny, will you ever get it?

"Wait! Actually, I couldn't sleep, because as you know, my brother and I will soon leave on a trip, and I won't get to..." she swallowed, hard, but it did nothing to remove the lump forming in her throat,  "...see you for a very, very long time. Will you watch the stars with me? We won't even have to move away from here, they're so bright tonight!" she jabbered, and took a clammy hand into her own to stop Manny from moving any further along the pathway.

[AmJanky]

Ashley was always keen to remind Mabel that he was the oldest, she was always keen to remind him she was the wisest. And as much as he battled it, she had so far proven to at least be the more goal oriented of the two.
Where he saw trouble, she saw opportunity.
Where he saw a creeping crawling lizard, she saw a pet.
Where he saw bears on the road, she'd drive their sledge a little harder and bowl them over - or freeze them in their place.

If ever he got somewhere, it was because of her.

And she wasn't there.


Instead there was this little fae-like girl, with bobbing blue curls and yellow eyes sparkling with mischief. Who had just popped the lock of the window and lowered herself into the store. While he stood at the window going "Whu- bu- nnnnnngh", making involuntary sounds really did seem to be the theme of the night.

It took some nerve, alright. Nerve that probably came with the being a bored noble - Wait, that nobility thing, this detail he couldn't come up with - she wasn't just the Blue Fairy, she was •*★Beaumont★*•.
Only a most influential and rupeeloaded family, not even the Royal Family could hold a candle to their riches. To be fair that was because The Royal Family consisted of grand total of one and their luck and bloodline hadn't exactly been blessed by fate - but that was besides the point -

she was •*★Beaumont★*•.

His breath quickened quite a bit and not only from excitement but from the pure happenstance that she was in a fashion store with him. Be it breaking and entering in the middle of the nigh- what was she holding up now?


A SKETCHBOOK?!


Now that could become Big Trouble.
He was only asked to be a look out for her, not an accomplice.

As much as his head had already spun about her heritage and the possibility and proximity to ask her something very, very important, she was holding up the perfect bait to have him enter the shop and exit that dream and life entirely.
Only to be put on water and bread... And black and white horizontal stripes flattered absolutely no one, was he going to risk that?

What she was holding up wasn't just a sketchbook, either. It was the one chance for a look into the brain that conceived only the most masterful of fads that everyone fell for. The fad that made people believe they were part of a collective, a mycelium, if you're a stickler for a theme.

It wasn't the make - fast work on the treadle machine - or the fabrics - not even capable of withstanding a little rain - or the patterns - enough with the mushrooms already.

It was the crafty image Cece had built around herself and the myth of her shop. It drew people in for miles, they stood in swooning droves at her door.

Cece got everyone hooked on mushrooms and they were collectively hallucinating. Hooked on fast fashion that would go moldy as quick as the fruits she'd based her trend on. She was everything Ashley didn't want to be, but that didn't make her a case not to be studied.


What all those thoughts looked like was him starry-eyed and balling his fists to his chest before spreading out all his fingers and folding them back slowly in a strained grabby motion. Much like the blue fairy had needed that 'hat' moments before, he needed to have that sketchbook on his person. Right no-


His head jerked away from every possibility in front of him upon hearing voices in front of the shop.

"There's People." He whispered loudly into the opened window.

Fate willed him to stick to his look out duties - and perhaps made sure his fae-like charge wouldn't be sharing the water and bread and stripey costume - he crept away from the window back around to the shop's entryway.

He reeled at what he saw, Manny twisting his grabby sweaty sausage fingers into Mabel's, his lips poised to purse in an equally sweaty kiss.

"Ew." He said, too fast, too loud, adding one more to the involuntary tally.