Battle Hymn of the Republic

Caoranach smiled mildly as she shifted back to her own spot on the couch. Not many mages would be so quick to take jabs at fae nobility, and, for what it was worth, she figured that was what appealed to her about this young group. They weren’t afraid of her. Way back when, even with as good as her relations were with magical society she had always been treated carefully; as though she could be expected to snap at a slight provocation. Nowadays, she was treated to Percival’s quips and playful repartee; to name just one aspect she genuinely did appreciate about the lad.

Similarly, there was Jane, an individual she had never paid much mind to in the past. At least up until she took what seemed to be a sudden vacation with Ruarc to the French countryside for what felt like ages. Like Percy, she did not give special treatment to the faerie. Mildly insulting but ultimately endearing; not that Caoranach would ever openly share such information with the mortals.

What she found herself not appreciating was the new little dormouse that had wandered in. Not because of her friendliness with Flynn, but because she had no idea about the circumstance she had been unwittingly led to. While able to understand why the familiar would pick someone like her, it was cruel to both parties. Caoranach had lived long enough to see the trouble and danger of colliding worlds.

“You two really do make a handsome couple, have I ever mentioned?” Caoranach said as she leaned towards the alchemist and his recently arrived significant other. “It’s good to have someone around to build you up. Opening pickle jars, buttoning shirts, comforting you after a bad dream.”

Another slight smile and a light touch to the shoulder noting her own levity. Leaning forward, she set down the small cup she had been drinking from and transitioned to pouring herself a beer. “How about the newcomer show us what she’s got?” the faerie said, her eyes lifting from the mug and locking on to Kaori. “Working around singers all day, surely you can’t be half bad yourself?”

Kaori, back at the end of the couch, stiffened and blushed under the sudden scrutiny. Ruarc gave Caoranach a definite look, and Laoise simply glared daggers. The secretary had taken the extra cloth that Ruarc had offered and continued dabbing at the wet spot on her skirt. Whether the group was aware of it or not, they were all intimidating in their own right. Presence born from power, ability, and experience. It could almost be suffocating.

“I’d be happy too! Just one second though, hehe, the blackout spooked me a bit. I swear I haven’t had that much to drink,” Kaori’s response was light as she offered up a little self-deprecating humor to ease the apparent tension that formed between the Irish trio. After a few moments more she tucked both handkerchiefs into her clutch, leaning to Ruarc’s ear to say she’d clean it and see it get returned.

With a rather bubbly step the small woman made her way up to the hardwood stage, picked up the mic, and gave a nervous laugh before introducing herself to the group. Shortly after, the music started. Ruarc shifted back from staring down Caoranach to watch. He admittedly didn’t have much of an ear for Japanese music, even this far into his tenure, but the song had a catchy tune. Kaori, for her part, wasn’t much of a singer, her pitch was unsteady, and she seemed a little embarrassed. That said, she put a lot of spirit into the performance; even grabbing one of the tambourines near the stage to play with a bit during the instrumental bits that lacked lyrics. Once it was over her face was flushed and she didn’t waste much time returning to her seat.

“You’re friends are tough acts to follow,” Kaori said, laughing a bit in spite of herself.

“Nonsense, you sang great,” Ruarc assured her, handing her a pre poured beer. “Besides, watch this.”

Setting his own beer down, the tall Irishman strode up to the front. Looking over at Kaori, he gave her a quick wink and raised the microphone, wasting no time with his own intro. To put it mildly, Ruarc was not a good singer. His voice was all over the place though it spent most of the time flat on the floor, and he even lost his place once or twice resulting in some dead air as he caught up again. Laoise seemed to be stifling a bit of a laugh, Kaori was smiling and clapping along, while Caoranach sat stunned at how ready he was to go sing so badly.

“I would say he was doing it to make the girl feel better, but he’s not that good of an actor,” Caoranach said to Jane.

"That was impressive? Rook."

Percival rubbed his chin, his only hand thoughtfully tracing a line upon his jaw. It was hard not to focus on Ruarc's performance after Kaori's, considering the sudden change in music. She had sung something so significantly Japanese, whereas Ruarc had done something that was so perilously English. Percy knew who the artist was, but he had a hard time really picturing a divide between English and American artists. In truth, he was beginning to realize how small his musical knowledge actually was, but he pushed that distraction to the back of his mind as the microphone cleared.

You dork. thought the alchemist, smiling a shrewd grin as Ruarc finished up. He could see he was taking Kaori's feelings into consideration, but perhaps he was thinking a little too much into it. Percy thought he'd talk to him later about it, but what would he know? He already had his partner, and she had made the decision that what they had was going to happen. In fact, Miyuki had very well snatched him from the bushes like a wolf on a hare.

With that thoght, Percy stood.

"Everyone, stand back," his hand rose, "It is my turn."

He took a quick step forward, and appeared to trip over the table as he moved. "Not drunk."

There were a few careful steps up to the mic, and for the first time his friends could see him all at once. A man that had a rough life up until this point, a fellow whose face held a severity that squashed his warmth even when he tried to smile. Even the amiable airs he put on were hampered by it, even if he looked much better these days. Yet, as he gripped the microphone, some of that roughness began to wash away.

"Miss Otani," said Percival into the microphone, "I would like to introduce you to my dear Kagami Miyuki. She isn't always on time, but she's always there. Miyuki, dear, this is Otani Kaori, a friend of Laoise, she's joining us tonight and she gets to witness something special."

He held out his arms, "A magic show! I'm a magician, you see. If you look here, there's nothing in my hands, nothing up my sleeves, and my coat is at my seat. Nothing in pockets you see. I'll even remove my watch, see here, no attachments. As I can assure you, there are no extra bits connected to my person, and nothing hidden. I'll even do a little spin. See?"

At that little turn, the music began.

With a flourish, the thinly man became a force of personality. He swayed, singing with his eyes on Miyuki, with meaning in the words that carried beyond just keeping up with the lyrics. He didn't look at the screen, he had the song closely memorized, and moved with a practice that indicated he was ready for just this moment. With all the energy he had he moved to single out the woman, as if it were his one goal to embarass her until she couldn't be any more red. Some of it showed he had gotten his strength back, some of it showed that he had grown a bit since his isolation.

As the instrumental part kicked in, he continued on.

"Kagami Miyuki, we've not the chance to make it public yet, and I haven't the chance to do this the way we do it back home..."

He came down on one knee with an open hand that clenched tightly into a fist, and opened again to reveal a ring nestled in a sea-shell in his palm. The ring was a polished, intricately-engraved silver, with a dark pearl that looked like it carried a small galaxy in the center. Every mage in the room could feel the magic radiating off of it the moment he uncurled his fingers. To Kaori it would look like a terribly expensive ring, but the rest knew that Percy had made something and charged it in the only way someone of his kind could.

Then he said, "Surprise. Will you marry me?"

As the song picked back up, he set the shell onto the table in front of her, and stood back, pointing above their heads, "Hold that thought. For once I said this is mine, you can't take it!"

He threw himself into the last lyrics of the song, putting his all into it and as it came to a close he heaved heavy breaths. The man had broken out into a little bit of a sweat, and wiped his brow. The microphone stand seemed to be supporting him as he asked one more question, "What will it be, love?"

Miyuki was, at first, speechless. Mostly due to Percy's singing voice, as she had been expecting him to propose at any moment now, considering they had been secretly engaged for a while. The ring was somewhat unexpected, although she couldn't say she didn't like it, and could feel what Percy had done with it. When he stopped to pop the question, and then turned back to his song, the woman fought hard not to giggle, as it had been some time since she had seen the Welshman acting in such a goofy manner, but she managed to keep her composure from falling apart completely. Once the song was done, she smiled, her cheeks rosy and blushing.

"Well, it's about time, you dork," She responded, firstly. "Of course I will. I chased you to the ends of the earth, so why wouldn't I say yes to you asking to marry me?"

Ruarc and Laoise’s faces were surprise and admiration, Kaori looked amazed at the proposal taking place during what was in essence her first date, and Caoranach…

“A toast, to the long awaited engagement,” Caoranach announced, her voice clear and her tone uncharacteristically respectful.

“B’fhéidir go mbeidh do chuid trioblóidí níos lú,
Agus do bheannachtaí níos mó.
Agus rud ar bith ach sonas,
Tar trí do dhoras. "

The newly engaged couple could notice a faint, but distinct sense of comfort covering them like a warm blanket on a snowy day. A blessing received from a member of the faerie court. Laoise looked surprised once more, while Ruarc looked… proud.

“May your troubles be less. Your blessings be more. And nothing but happiness. Come through your door. For those that don’t speak Irish,” Ruarc clarified before raising his own mug of beer. “Cheers, my friends.”

“Congratulations!” Laoise and Kaori called out, lifting their cups as well.

Following her toast, Caoranach contented herself to sit in silence and let the group revel. In this instance she felt a momentary camaraderie with the fresh faced Kaori; chuckling a bit to herself as she thought about the name Kaorinach. The two of them were both outsiders to this exchange, and the fey felt certain the post cheer silence from her counterpart was born from the same feeling. This group had been through hell together, some of it she was the cause of (although this specific detail was likely reserved for Caoranach alone), and this new development was a gem for their enjoyment. Everything else in her nature aside, she would give them their moment.

Finally, after the group had celebrated, toasted, drank, and made merry; Caoranach, the Mother of Demon, Lady of the Seelie Court, Heiress of Aos Sí Creation, and all around Pesterer of Druids & Co. stood up. With an elegant grace, she straightened her dress before sliding past Jane. With a few steps, her long legs carried her gracefully to the stage; small sequins in her dress making her glitter. Dipping slightly, she took the microphone. For a few brief moments she simply stood there, her face placid as she considered her words.

“Once more, congratulations Percy and Miyuki. I apologize if my presence has at all dampened this moment for the two of you, but I am genuine when I say I am honored to have witnessed it,” Caoranach spoke, her voice silken and humble. A slight smile grew before she continued. “I knew I felt chemistry even back when I was public enemy number one for you lot. But, for whatever the past may be, tonight is for you; as is this song.”

The lights seemed to dim a bit, and the only music to start playing was a mellow piano that sounded as though the group were sitting in a Parisian lounge. Similar to Jane, the music and what the fey were singing would not be found in the registry; although the mages, particularly Riley, would be able to recognize subtly woven audio and visual illusions to create the effects and the notes. Beginning first in an eloquent French, near the start giving a brief glance between Ruarc and Jane, Caoranach was at this point all smooth movements and dulcet tones as the woman eventually shifted to English. Laoise sat in stunned silence with her drink held close to her chest. Kaori watched before looking once more down the couch at Percy and Miyuki, which drew her eyes to Ruarc.

Ruarc was transfixed. Any primary reason he might be staring aside, the Irishman was as stunned by the performance as he was by Caoranach using her chance in the spotlight to dedicate it to someone else. He had been certain she would have used the chance to sing something boisterous and out there, likely having a wide array of songs she might have liked to sing; to say nothing of her having a chance to try and overshadow something on the scale of a proposal. Instead, she was singing a love song for the two.

When the song drew to an end, Caoranach stood for a few moments more as the silence set back in. With a similarly silent bow of her head to the couple, she set the microphone down.

Percy smiled, appearing very pleased by Miyuki's answer. He had sufficiently worn himself out as he finished his song, even something as minor as that was still a challenge for his body. Despite his weakness, he threw himself to Miyuki's side and gripped her hand, kissing it and holding it close to his chest.

"Thank goodness. I know we've planned it out, but I don't know what I would have done if you had said 'no'." he chuckled, his hand shaking as he was clearly holding back tears. The man was still getting used to happiness.

Thankfully Caoranach brought him back to reality by speaking.

“A toast, to the long awaited engagement,” Caoranach announced, her voice clear and her tone uncharacteristically respectful.

Ah, she was still over there, he remembered. He looked over his shoulder at her, expecting her to say something snide, something to elbow out and show her dominance. Anything to show that she was Caoranach, above them and above the niceties of decent people. Percival's guarded stare rose into a questioning look at she offered her blessing to them. The strain building in his shoulders began to melt away for a moment, but something deep in him resisted it, the ice built in his heart. The alchemist resisted the blessing, taking it for some measure of ensorcling.

“May your troubles be less. Your blessings be more. And nothing but happiness. Come through your door. For those that don’t speak Irish,” Ruarc clarified before raising his own mug of beer. “Cheers, my friends.”

At that he was swept up in the cheers, shocked out of his chilly solace. He was so caught up in his defense that he was the last to grab his drink and join the toast. The moment passed in a bit of a blur as they traded well-wishes back and forth. With only one arm, he could only drink or hold his fiance's hand, so he settled for leaning against her as he began to drink further. He hadn't even noticed the faerie queen had stood up to the mic and almost jumped as she began to speak again. Her dedication earned her some skepticism, she could likely see it, yet on she went.

The music began and then the lyrics began to flow forth, and that was when his mind changed. As the French came forth, he began hearing something else, something he had been too focused in another language to understand. He cast a glance at Ruarc, and felt he began to see what the druid was seeing now. His head leaned against Miyuki's the song carrying his heart to a warmer place, grounding enough to simply appreciate the moment..

"Je t'aime, mon Mimi," he whispered into her ear, nestling close as the song carried on to English, and eventually came to a soft close. There was a gratitude in his eyes as the emotion began to burst up from the icy depths.

More important, there was alcohol in his head.

"That. Was. Beautiful!" Percival shot up, his gangly frame near tumbling over the table, yet not spilling an ounce of his drink. "Will you sing at the wedding? Oh Mimi, she's gotta sing at the wedding. Aw Caora, tell us you will!"

The next few songs were exactly what karaoke was meant to be: reckless fun with friends- talent be damned. Jane became very comfortable in those moments and didn't even realize her drink had run dry until she went for another sip at the end of Ruarc's song.

"I would say he was doing it to make the girl feel better, but he's not that good of an actor."

Jane didn't miss a beat, replying with a lopsided smirk, "He ain't actin an ounce."

Then came Percy. In many ways she considered him the North to her South. Where she was dramatic only as the situation demanded, Percival seemed to conjure drama from the very air around him. His life was a drama in full-- full enough for seven novels and eight films. Where Jane was the outsider everywhere she went- even among her Safeholme peers- Percival was an axis around which life itself seemed to revolve. An entire pantheon and plane revolved around him, though, so it was easy to chalk up the rest as a mere byproduct. His relations with gods stood in stark contrast to her tenebrous status as a mage; he haggled with elemental forces, while she was carried along the current of an ephemeral river, bereft of control.

Case in point: he stole the show with his song, which was actually a marriage proposal. Miyuki said yes. They were congratulated. Everyone- Jane included- cheered and toasted to their happiness and health. Caoranach dedicated her song to them. There was a flux of joy and tension in these things, a seesaw of emotions among the American's colleagues, a reminder of a history that she did not share. Axis indeed.

Lord, I'm drunk, Jane realized finally, and frowned to herself. It had been a long time. The steel in her soul compelled her to leave her glass empty, but an instinct unknown suggested otherwise, and she settled back in with a fresh whiskey as Caoranach serenaded the room in French. She noticed the suggestive glance at herself and Ruarc, and actually laughed, quiet as a whisper. It was an absurd notion, that Caoranach could possibly harbor jealousy for her.

At the end of the song, Jane raised her glass. Before she could praise the fey, though, Percy boomed out his own. The moment was lost to her. She returned to nursing her drink and her untimely melancholy.

To Jane's side, in the complex arrangement of players, sat Eryl. She had been silent through the whole experience, watching Percival in wonder as he sang his heart out. Her gaze was not one of impressive amazement, but the surprise of someone who did not think that the alchemist was capable of such things. An look of anxiousness began to spread on her face as she sat in witness to the proposal, and she kept giving glancing looks at the door.

She instead took a moment to get absorbed in her drink, which she hadn't touched, when the toasts and cheers came up. The triclops took a pensive sip of the gin, a variety made in Japan. She didn't really drink, but gin was all she knew of alcohol. Being as fragile and dainty as she was, it wasn't the best for her to consume too much.

Yet, in her careful dance in this social occasion, she saw Jane's glass was empty. Right before Caoranach took the stage, the cowgirl had moved on to her next drink. While being quite apt at pleasant parties where high etiquette was expected, Eryl had little experience in relaxed social occasions like this.

Not wanting to be left behind she wordlessly turned up her glass, downing it all in one go. Immediate regret was evident in all three eyes, as it was her will, not her constitution that kept her from coughing. Still, wanting to keep up; she got another drink, holding it in both hands, like a trophy.

"How terribly public," whispered Eryl, her face starting to flush red, "and terribly French."

She started to sway a bit, and grumbled, "Pa dda yw'r Ffrancwyr. Peidiwch byth â gwneud unrhyw beth da i unrhyw un... Gwneud llanast o'r byd a bod yn Ffrangeg..."

Despite the celebration, she continued to mumble, leaning over onto Jane and closing her eyes, the alcohol fully gone to her head. "Bastardiaid gwaedlyd Ffrengig..."

Jane had a small smile as Eryl griped. "How astute of ye, it is indeed French." Then she let the small woman continue her unintelligible rant. "Aint no linguist, but I reckon that caint be naught but the garbled marbles o Welsh. Ye caint rightly whine bout the awfulness of French when ye opt for such an equally ugly language."

As if toasting to herself, she raised her glass and took another sip.

Miyuki, having yet to have a chance to drink too much, had by this point taken over charge of Percy's inebriated state, indeed, the only reason he didn't tumble completely onto his face when he tripped on the table was due to her swiftly taking hold of his shoulder and pulling the Welshman back onto his feet. She shook her head, smiling in amusement, holding him closer to make it easier to steady him. "I think you may have had one too many, Perce," she said, grabbing the cup of alcohol from his hand and making it her own by downing what was left of it before her even had a chance to complain about it. "I'd sing too, but, it looks like you might find yourself on the floor if I left your side," she joked, looking around to see if there was any water or snacks to be had to dilute what was in her Fiance's system and perhaps steady the man.

"Although, I wouldn't mind having someone who can sing that well at our wedding, so you might be on to something."

For Miyuki's perusal there was a wide range of salty snacks, mostly chips and a little vegetable snack tray. The trays had been gotten into through the night, while drinks had been going around. Percival already had two empty glasses sitting in front of him, but nothing to indicate he had finished up any of the snacks. Despite this, and his lack of grace, Miyuki's fiance seemed to still in strong possession of his faculties. Consumption was something that Alchemists were good at.

As she took an unguarded approach to searching the table for something, she heard him say, "Now now my dear. I am a perfectly well and dandy, what sort of damage could I cause from the couch? Riley's right here. She'll keep me out of trouble."

Percy shook his head. "Go up! Sing! Have a good time. You're supposed to be relaxing too. Really."

He squeezed her hand, "Really."

A pair of tiny, orange eyes nodded from the dark shadows behind the Welshman's purple collar.

Meanwhile, Eryl snapped to, all three of her eyes blinking; Jane's little insult seemed to rouse her. The Triclops, of poor constitution and physical fortitude by nature, raised her glass erroneously and put back the gin in it. An inexperienced drinker, she set the glass on the table, matching Percival's number, but with an eighth of the tolerance.

"Jane," pouted Eryl, balling her fists up as her mental faculties began to degrade, "That was... uncalled for... Cymraeg is the langua'ge of cul'tyure. I f'ought better of you. That's why I like you."

The woman gave a little, unintentionally evil giggle, "I like you."

Again, another giggle, as she was proving to be thoroughly intoxicated, "Qui'de a bit. You are... whad' my father would have 'galled... good people. He was a Goulnel in her majesty's army. 'Ard as nails. A calvaryman. A dragoon. One of the last! Heh he... Do you like me? Oh please tell me. Tell me you like me. I don' thing' I could ... "

She blinked a couple times, either realizing she was becoming overbearing, or that she had indeed had too much for her stature, "... could bearrit... Come n'ow."

Eryl pouted at the other woman, looking genuinely, drunkenly distressed.

"You'dn't make a gu'l with three eyes cry, would you?"