Lady Iliza is visibly moved by Gwydion's words. She takes a moment before she replies with sincerity, “Oh Gwydion...that is beautiful. I know my father will see things as you do. He will join the King's cause. He must. I will do what I can to sway him. I promise.”

She starts to say something else, but someone slurs, “There they are! I tol' you they didn' get los'. Lady Iliza would never get los'.” The two of them are swept into MacGuffin's in a flash. “Our best table for the Lady and her Champion,” the owner, Cyras, announces. You two are seated at the head of a long table, the only table in the establishment. A entire tray of flagons is put down in front of you. “Perhaps we should partake lightly,” Iliza says as she picks up a flagon, “I promised Mother that I would help her finish the preparations for tonight's Ball and you have another match today.” She has every intention of doing as she says, but then the toasts begin and they continue on for some time. It seems as though every man and woman in MacGuffin's has something to toast, whether they are truly grateful or just passing the time until the next match.

“To Baron Gehenmis and King Arthur! Long may they reign.”

“To the Brave Prince Gwydion, who gave that Martian what for!”

“To the Lady Iliza, to her kind heart and stunning beauty!”

“To that Edge Knight Brun, and his perfectly chiseled backside.”

“To our wives and sweethearts—may they never meet!”

There's a cheer after every toast, and another toast after every cheer.

OOC:
Now it's time for some fun!

First off, have a Fate Point for the speech. Good stuff there.

Second, have a compel on the People's Champion to have more than you should to drink before your next match. It's rude not to drink a toast you know. Especially one on your behalf and boy there are a lot of those going on right now.

And one on the Iliza's Favor scene aspect to have her get drunk too. What's the harm? It's not like there's a fancy ball tonight she needs to help get prepared or anything, right?

For his part, Gwydion nodded in agreement with Iliza's suggestion. He was still rattled from the battle he'd just won, and there was yet another? He only hoped his team would be able to repair the Longsword in short order. It had taken quite the pounding.

The first toasts got hearty drinks from the prince, his smile widening with each one. They started getting a bit silly quickly, but Gwydion wasn't about to turn any of them down. Before they got too far out of hand, he tried to bring them back to toasts he felt were worth mentioning. Besides, he wouldn't want to be left out of the fun.

"To Sir Liamont of Mars, as honorable as he is fierce!" It may not have been common for a knight to praise his enemy so highly, but he'd already declared the Martian a better warrior during the battle itself, and the tournament was all in good fun, after all. And anyway, it would be absurd to play down the skill of someone who'd just carved up his Armour like so much mutton.

"And to MacGuffin's Pub, the place where everybody knows your name!" Maybe he was getting a little too into the spirits of things...

[Hey, don't forget to start passing Fate Points off to the others! That brings me up to 8 FP! XD But totally accepting all of 'em. Aw yeah.]

Before you know it there are quite a few empty flagons of ale between the two of you. Lady Iliza smiles at you and reaches over to take your right hand. She holds it close to her face and examines it. “One...two...three...four...five...hmmm,” she counts as she runs her index finger over each of your fingers in turn, “Just five.” She repeats the process with your left, and then stares at it perplexed for a moment. “There must be something wrong with you. How do you feel about beets?” Lady Iliza has clearly had plenty to drink and is becoming rather tipsy.

Having snuck away from her poor, overworked handmaiden/guardian, Meara enters the pub where there seems to be lots of happy sounds and talking about knights and Avaluna and humanity and wives and mistresses and fun.  Of course, she makes a beeline for the people she recognizes, standing behind Iliza and looking at Gwydion with a expression on her face that seems to be one of intense interest, as if she also very much wishes to know how he feels about beets.

Mysteriously, she hasn't made a sound or really been in their field of vision until she suddenly shows up behind Iliza, either just having fun or genuinely backing up the tipsy noble lady's alcohol-influenced interrogation of Gwydion.

By that time, Gwydion was having a tough time figuring out what Iliza was talking about. She counted his fingers and stopped at five, and he blinked down at his hand. Beets? He looked at her again, and there was Meara right beside them. The prince lifted his hand to show his cousin, a touch of concern on his face and not nearly enough looseness in his voice. He was pretty clearly being far more careful with his speech to sound properly sober.

"I was pretty sure I had ten before we sat down. Does she think my fingers are beets? I didn't drink that much. Do you think she likes beets?"

Iliza turns around to see who it is that Gwydion is speaking to and looks very pleased when she sees Meara, "Oh Princess Meara. It's lovely to see you. Join us, won't you?" She slides down to make room for the Princess on the crowded bench, bringing her very close to Gwydion.

"Oh no you don't," Iliza protests waiving an accusatory finger at the Prince, "We asked you first. Didn't we, Meara? I'm afraid you'll just have to answer the question."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:38, Tue 09 Sept 2014.

Meara quite happily observes the two, rather enjoying the alcohol-influenced interactions between her cousin and his admirer who he may or may not have decided to court - the thought that she is getting to witness the beginning of a courtship makes her giddy inside.  She says nothing to either of them, first giving Gwydion a confused expression at his query, then smiling at Iliza and taking the offered seat, gently nudging Iliza with her hips so that physical contact between the two adorable lushes may occur on a greater scale.

When Iliza presses the subject, Meara's face turns Adorably Serious™ and she nods in agreement with the other woman, adding more pressure to the poor man to answer.

"Hm?" He glanced from his hand to Iliza, then took a deep breath and set his hand on the table. There was a moment before Gwydion had an answer.

"Beets're...I dunno, we dun have'em back home. Mario throws 'em. Blook! I dun think they're very good for fightin'. 'S a food, right?"

"Of course, they're a food. What else would they be? For fighting? Heavens no! Beat with a beet? My word!" Apparently she finds the idea very funny, because she collapses on Gwydion in a fit of giggles.

It takes her a while to recover from her fit, but when she does she looks up at Gwydion and narrows her eyes playfully, "Wait. You're trying to dodge the question, aren't you? And you said you had no time for politics, which is itself a very political answer. Very sneaky. I'm on to you, sir. Now tell me truthfully. Beets or no?"

When Iliza falls on Gwydion due to her giggle fit, Meara subtly scoots over to prevent Iliza from having room to sit back upright without either knocking Meara over or remaining draped over Gwydion.  She does this because she finds the situation both hilarious and adorable.

She is also holding about three different drinks people have bought for her in her hands, each with a different color of umbrella.  They may or may not be alcoholic, but Meara does not trust them.

This does not stop her from sneaking a sip through one of the many straws also sticking out of the drinks, however.

When Iliza toppled over onto him, he caught her with a look of utter confusion. He spent a moment trying to figure out the joke, before giving up and asking Meara.

"What's funny about that? I haven't... no seriously, we don't have beets. I don't see...oooooooh, beat with beets. I got that one. I mean I get it now. Meara, you got it, right?" He didn't seem to notice Iliza didn't have any space to sit up again.

"Hey, hey I am not sneaky. Maybe you're the sneaky one, making all those toasts and then hugging me. That was a lot of toast. I'm pretty sure that may have been too much toast. But it was toasty. I mean tasty."

Iliza looks up at Gwydion, "Hugging you?" Iliza flounders for a moment before trying to turn to Meara for help and suddenly realizing her predicament. She plays it as though she had intended the move all along however, "Not at all. I was merely making room at the table. As if it's my fault that you're entirely comfortable to rest upon."

Iliza wiggles a bit to settle in against Gwydion and speaks to Meara, "Oh my, let me help you with those," she takes one of the drinks with a teal umbrella from Meara's hand and has a sip. "So tell me, Princess Meara. How did you come to choose the Lævateinn Blade as your favored weapon? Such an exotic blade is considered an unconventional choice for a Venusian design, is it not?"

Meara isn't the only one to find Gwydion and Iliza amusing. Many of the patrons cast knowing looks at the pair and smile.

Cheers go up as the picture on the viewscreen switches to the match between Sir Grouz and Dame Scipii.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:38, Mon 15 June 2015.

Suddenly put on the spot, Meara sits up straight on reflex and nearly spills the two drinks she's still holding, managing to keep them from spilling at the last minute with the two drinks held out at arm's length.  Deciding that the table is a much safer place to put the drinks than her hands, she sets them down and clears her throat as if doing so would remove all embarrassment from her undignified reaction.

"Ahem.  I chose it because it is the weapon I trained with the most when I was learning how to fight in Armor.  I also like it because it is tricky to use right, but if you can slip it past their guard, it is very powerful."  Starting to talk with her hands as well as her mouth, she starts making elaborate, but confined (so as not to knock over anything on the table or hit anyone), "But you have to line it up just right or else it will send feedback up the arm and slow you down.  To use it best, you have to be fast.  Really fast.  Vwoooooooosh!"

Iliza clearly enjoys Meara's explanation and pantomime, "Ah, I see. Well, you are clearly fast and skilled enough to take advantage of the blade for certain. Tales of your skills were not exaggerated in the least."

She looks up at Gwydion then back at Meara, "Do the two of you spar often? You're both so skilled I couldn't dare venture a guess as to who would win between you."

Gwydion smiles at Meara's explanation, sneakily taking the glass out of Iliza's hand and setting it down on the other side of him. When she turns and asks the both of them if they've sparred, the prince blinks at her before glancing to his cousin.

"Well. Kind of? We used to, uh... well Meara would bonk me on the head with a stick when I wasn't looking. Does that count? We were...we were wee. Four or five years old, I think? Freyr would scold her, she had the kind of scoldings you find in Greek poems, and I would tell her I'd be prepared for next time. Neeeever was. Eventually the big "they" saw her talent and she started lessons to become a Knight. So did I, but it was mostly because I didn't want to be so bad at it.

My whole combat style is based around dueling Meara, actually. As a five year old, anyway. Strike fast, strike first, keep the opponent off balance. But we haven't had a chance to duel in...well, ever since. Got busy with...being official responsible types. Not as fun as it sounds. Maybe we can during the tournament. It'll be fun. Like old times, but less embarrassing."

Remembering the "sparring" they did as children, Meara says, "Heehee!  You were always bigger than me, but it never mattered.  I'd just bop you with the stick over and over."  Raising the pitch of her voice to sound younger, she imitates her younger self, still doing the pantomime, "Where's your guard?  What if I was an evil ninja robot assassin?  C'mon, let's play Knights and Dragons!  Rawr~"

She then sits up normally and looks a bit nervous as she adds, "Freyr was always a bit scary when she scolded me.  She still is.  I probably ought to be more ready for my next match instead of sitting here, but this is more fun and it helps me loosen up!  All that 'mental training' stuff never really worked for me.  And I do hope we get to duel.  It should be fun!  I would like to see how far you've come with my own hands, as it were."

With a very mischievous smile, she teases, "Not like Iliza might want, though~♥"

Yes.  She has definitely been spending time in the barracks.

Iliza looks shocked at Meara's comment, not because she is offended, she had truthfully been thinking something along the same lines, and that thought did nothing to assuage the sudden worry that she'd been all too obvious. She found Prince Gwydion charming, courageous, genuine, and, yes, more than a bit attractive. That was no secret, judging by all teasing she'd endured these  past few days, especially from her sister Irina. Normally, Irina didn't give any attention to her older sister's social happenings beyond an eye roll, but she'd already made several cheeky comments about the attention Iliza paid to Prince Gwydion.

Now, Meara had suggested it as well, none too subtly. Had she been openly leering at the Prince the entire time, Iliza wondered. What must Gwydion think of her? She thought he seemed to share her warm affection, but could it be that he was just politely humoring a dopey girl from a backwater space station? Or worse yet, did he think of her as another of the, what she imagined must be, countless women who threw themselves at him because of his position? Iliza suddenly felt as if she need air.

She politely laughs at Meara's comment, but stands up as she does, the fingers of her hand brushing against Gwydion's own. She pulls her hand away quickly. Wait, hadn't she been holding a drink a few moments ago? She spotted the cup in question sitting behind Gwydion. He must think I am a drunkard too. “I-I've had a lovely time here with you, but I really must be going. I promised my Lady Mother that I would help her with preparations for the Ball. Princess Meara. P-prince Gwydion.” She curtsies briefly, and moves quickly out the door.

Gwydion smiled and chuckled a little as he and Meara reminisced about the old times as children. They'd had more time together then. Not so much studying, training, meeting important people, discussing politics and dealing with all those important...things that kept popping up. Life. Whatever it was. He almost wouldn't have minded being bopped on the head with a stick again.

When she mentioned hoping they could spar again soon, Gwydion began to nod his approval of the idea, right up until she followed it up with a comment about Iliza. He froze for a brief moment, and then let out a little semi-laugh as the red shot across his cheeks, followed by a small-but-ridiculous smile. He didn't quite know what to say, and before he could decide, the lady had already stood and begun heading for the door. Oh dear.

Several thoughts ran through Gwydion's head, but the alcohol was making it difficult to separate them out. It was less a train of thought as a trainwreck. He smiled to Meara and leaned over to give her a hug before hopping to his feet as well.

"We should make time to really catch up later, but we've each got matches to prepare for. Looking forward to that next bonk on the head, Meara!" He began towards the door, but found a straight line a little tough to handle. He apologized for the first couple of people he'd had to use for support, smiling sheepishly and waving as he continued on his way.

"A moment, Iliza! You forgot something!"

Iliza too has trouble moving with anything but deliberate speed, and Gwydion is able to catch up with her easily. Fearing she has already been dreadfully rude, and not wishing to offend Gwydion further she stops to wait for him when he calls out to her. Her head buzzing and afraid of what she might see on his face, or he on hers, she avoids looking directly at him when he approaches. “Oh Prince Gwydion, you're most kind,” she says, but the words sound as if she's just repeating something she's heard rather than meaning to speaking them herself, “What is it that I have forgotten?”

When he reached her, Gwydion stopped and sort of stared at her briefly. Hesitation covered his face, as though he was just on the verge of speaking but had stopped himself. Once he finally did, his voice was much lower.

"I, uh... I was about to say you'd forgotten a kiss and then I'd have kissed you, but now I'm afraid that would earn me a rightful slap. If we were in one of those silly romance holovids, this would be a good moment for that. My head's a bit fuzzy, but that seemed like a perfect idea a moment ago." He gave a nervous smile and bowed his head a bit as he continued.

"You're clearly upset by something and I'm terribly sorry for anything I've said to cause it. If there's any way to earn another of your smiles before I face the next opponent, you've but to name it." Apparently he was savvy enough to notice when someone was upset, but too tipsy to piece together the why.

As the two of them get up and run off due to varying reasons for embarrassment, Meara at least has the sense of shame to smile awkwardly and let out a quiet, "I think I went to far."  Thankfully, however, she is saved when Gwydion chases after Iliza like a proper gentleman who is also a healthy young man under the influence of alcohol chasing a pretty, healthy young lady in the same condition to clarify that things are okay and that he even attempts to continue their awkward flirting, which makes her feel a slight tinge of victory to help ease her shame.

It does not remove her shame, but it does help temper it.

She can only hope nobody is recording any videos to put up on any kind of social media that the common folk seem so fond of using.

As Gwydion confesses himself, Iliza ventures a look up at him. He looks just as embarrassed and self-conscious as she feels. Had she been wrong? Did Prince Gwydion genuinely care for her? Perhaps it was just the drink playing on her doubts? When Gwydion finishes speaking she says, “Oh, no, you musn't think you've done something wrong. You haven't. On the contrary you've been so wonderful. The problem is me, I'm afraid. I was embarrassed. Not by what was said, but by the fact that it wasn't exactly wrong. Not that I...Or that you...I was just so afraid of what you must think of me. If you thought ill of me, I'd...” Iliza trails off and looks down at her feet.

After a few moments and she suddenly snickers. She places a hand to her mouth in an effort to hide her laughter but it doesn't help. Soon she's laughing nearly as hard as she had in the bar, “Really,” she asks Gwydion in between laughs before pitching her voice down in imitation of Gwydion's baritone, You've forgotten a kiss. That was your go to line? It's so awful, even by holo-romance standards. I'm not certain which is worse—that you thought that idea would have worked or that it actually would have...”

Gwydion's face relaxed in relief as she let him know he hadn't caused her trouble. Red tinged his cheeks when she continued explaining, but his embarrassed smile widened all the same. When she began to chide his choice of lines, the smile turned to a grin.

"The cheesier, the better. Though I think perhaps princes and ladies cause a bit too much commotion to be quite that cheesy in public. Everyone's looking. Come, let me walk you back. I've got to get checking on my armour to make sure we're ready for the next match, but would rather not leave you to go on your own." He offered her an arm and a smile. Really, they'd likely be steadying themselves on each other, which may not have been the best of strategies.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:54, Sat 20 Sept 2014.

”I'd very much enjoy you walking me to the reception hall,” Iliza says as she takes Gwydion's arm and returns his smile. As they begin to walk she notices the two of them have attracted something of an audience, “You are right. It seems we are more entertaining than an Armour duel. I hope they're not expecting one of us to explode in spectacular fashion.”

After walking Iliza back to the reception hall, likely garnering some attention considering their less-than-sober states, Gwydion returned to his repair crew, busily working away as best they could to repair what was almost entirely a vaguely humanoid ball of twisted metal. Fortunately, he had some of the finest mechanics who were willing to be associated with him, and though the Longsword wasn't going to be pretty, it would be functional.

Several of the mechanics exchanged glances and looked like they were reconsidering the association with him as he slurred his gratitude and let them know how much he loved them and their brilliant work. This was going to be a long day...

[22:21, Today: Gwydion rolled 2 using 4 Fudge dice with rolls of 1, 0, 1, 0. Smithy +0, Repair vs 4.

Spending 1 FP to invoke Young Knight of Avaluna, giving access to a household's mechanics, then spending 1 FP to invoke Arthur's Nephew, netting me the best of the best (of the people willing to associate themselves with headstrong anti-political idealists). That +4 brings me up to +6, which will repair the suit. Tada!]