Southcoast island, Southcast city, Southcoast university: New beginnings (OPEN to Frideswide Revolutionaries)

There were some things in this life Marta did not know at this juncture in her life. Whether or not her mother and Colette had resolved their dispute over the young girl's beau. Where she would end up after this detour on this island. Why it was her Lisali referred to when speaking of the public disturbance (hadn't that been over quite a while ago?). Then there were things that Marta knew she would never discover. The prime example being the statement--or had it intended to be a question?-- that the van Anden girl decided to keep hidden in silence, and though the curiosity was there, it was rude to pry. She would come out with it when the time was right, but they had arrived at their destination.

The area really did seem much different without the mob of townsfolk surrounding her. For one thing, Marta could actually take in the sights around her as opposed to accidentally studying the embroidery on someone's shirt pocket that probably stood for some high-class brand she wasn't aware of (not that fashion wasn't interesting, it was just much more interesting when one's quality of 'not being in jail' was being called into question). Though, to any other islander, or any person probably, the shops and such wouldn't be considered much of a 'sight' as opposed to a normalcy. Yet, here the wedding planner stood, gazing around not for people to ask about Esther's whereabouts, but at these buildings. At least to an unassuming passerby, it could be passed off as either. Tracing the lines of the establishments down to the cracks in the path as though she were solving a maze, something caused her pause a few ticks from the dead center of the road. Yes, something pounded on the back of her mind, but the memory wouldn't open up and welcome the realization. It had to have been something...
Subconsciously, Marta had heard Lisali call out to the three girls, but didn't figure she'd need to pay them any attention, lest there were directions hanging on the tips of their tongues, so when she had heard her name being called she couldn't help her tanned shoulders from rising up shortly and sharply in shock. A normal greeting was what she was expecting. It was not what she received. After the sixth peck 'hello', her head was spinning in social graces and an unfamiliar feeling of discomfort sat lazily on the cusp of her emotions. They were just being kind, of course. Of course. Yes, they just wanted to make her feel welcome even though a hug or a hand shake would have done just as well. She couldn't fight against Southcoast's social traditions, though. Especially not as a guest and potential 'troublemaker'.

The thought passed through her mind to ask whether or not these three girls were also to be bridesmaids at Lisali's wedding, but something told the consultant to reconsider. Maybe their earlier conversations had finally sunk in and Marta realized that all this wedding talk was making the bride-to-be nervous? Maybe she herself was tired of talking about weddings-- no, that would never happen, how silly. If they weren't a part of the wedding--which Lisali would no doubt tell her if the three of them were-- then there was no need to go into detail about it around them. Whereas Udo was family and thus she had no issue going ahead at full speed, these girls... well, as Lisali said, they were gossips. Such an affair had no place for those types unless it was for getting the word out or anything else a messenger could do but someone wanted done at a faster pace.

Throwing away the key on her mental lock-box of wedding ideas (though, to be honest, it was more letting it hang in the keyhole), she returned the same smiles she received back at the trio before turning back to the one who had led her back here. "Lisali, I don't think I see the professor," never mind she didn't have the slightest idea what he looked like. "You don't think we missed him, did we?" Though she did enjoy the time she was allowed with Miss van Anden, these wild goose chases were getting the teensiest bit tiresome. There would have to come a point where they ran into someone they were looking for; the island wasn't that large. Maybe they would run into everyone all at once: the professor, this Sasha (who she was not entirely convinced wasn't actually another bridesmaid), Esther, and... "Oh, drat!"

The book accidentally picked-it-up-er. How could she forget about them?! And who knew where they would have gotten off to by now. Suddenly, the length of this afternoon seemed immeasurable and the newly returned weight on her shoulder seemed to physically weigh her down, her right hand forming a perfect hammock for her head.

Upon the mention of the professor, a collective gasp could be heard from the three gossips. Marta's next words were already overshadowed by loud fits of giggling and obvious whispers of "I know right?" "Oh my god you think?". Those three took their jobs very seriously, and Lisali, who knew what was coming, groaned and couldn't help but glare at Marta for a short moment. Sure, she'd been about to ask for Huxley anyway, but.... there would have been better ways to go about it. Ways that didn't imply things that weren't true to ears to really really wanted to hear them. She couldn't help but mumble: "Well done." under her breath, she simply hated the uncontrolled rumors that would doubtlessly spread because of this already. Her arms crossed, she waited, the smile on her face showing the slightest bit of annoyance. After a few seconds, and a few more of silent collective stares (those three worked as one being, most likely even had a hive mind, she found), finally there it was: The pushing in their ranks, the "Who's going to ask", the little polite cough as finally Anna stepped forward, and looked at Lisali with barely concealed curiousity. she spoke slowly and clearly, as if she wasn't sure Lisali's mind would entirely grasp the concept.
"Is it true that you're cheating on your groom with one of the professors?"
Ugh. Ugh! That had been one time! And it had been one sided! She had told him she wasn't that kind of person! It had all been a misunderstanding, the looks they gave each other were kind of awkward, but they were both over it!! Still, she couldn't exactly say it had been nothing.
While Lisali was still looking for something to say, the hivemind had already drawn it's own conclusions.
"Oh.My.God."
The older van Anden barely had any time to realise what she had unleashed.
"N-"
"Who is it? you can trust me! Oh my god, that's so... oh my god! Is it Templeton? It's Templeton, isn't it?"
Good five seconds of speculation later, Lisali's frustration had finally reached it's limit, and consumed the last of her cautionsness and sanity for the moment. She grabbed the shoulders of the small woman in front of her and fixed her most authoritative stare on her, which gained her the few moments of silence she needed.
"We're simply looking for professor Huxley. In the most platonical manner possible! Sasha Devon is with him, and Esther von Rosberg is with Sasha, we are not interested in Huxley himself!"
She didn't even care how excited the three of them looked with her "confession". Come on, Huxley? Sure, he was goodlooking and whatever, but wasn't he like fourty? Besides, she knew the type. Idealistic to a fault, he'd never make any serious money, let's get real here.
Before the chattering could start again, she added the question that made it clear beyond a doubt what she wanted.
"Where is he?!"
It almost sounded a bit like an interrogation by now, an impression which grew even stronger when she shook the poor girl a bit to keep her mind on track. And it helped, she finally got her answers!
"T-t-they're at Little Henry's! it's Marcus' birthday and-"
That was all she needed to know. No more time would be wasted one those three, and as she let go of Anna, her smile was perfect again.
"Thank you, dear, that'll be quite enough."
She tucked one of the streaks that had gotten loose again behind her ear and smiled at Marta as she took her arm again. Before she walked off, though, she turned to the three one more time.
"Oh, and I do not have an affair with the professor, or any professor. Don't you know he's secretly married to a man?"
Best way to fight rumors was with rumors, she had learned, and really, the eyes of the three did grow wide at that delicious piece of false info. Their shock at her rashness was quickly replaced by excited whispers, and Lisali could return to their former plan again.
"Shall we, Marta dear? Little Henry's is just over...."
She looked at the other side of the street, where Littly Henry's was, indeed, located, and her smile wavered a bit.
"....there."
There, right in front of Little Henry's, searching his suit's pockets with what seemed to border on panic, was what she was sure was professor Huxley himself, though he was standing with his back to them as of now. Lisali noticed yet again that she had lots of feelings towards that man, and at the same time, none at all. She had met him maybe twice, and hadn't been utterly impressed, but she had a sort of sixth sense for those things, or liked to think she had, and it clearly told her he was hiding something, that he was trouble, and not to be trusted. At the same time, she knew Sasha was clearly obsessed with him, and she could not see why, but she had a feeling that mayb it was because he was trouble. She didn't like that. He was a clumsy little man, yet she could not see through him, and that was highly irritating. As such, she did not like him, no, not at all. Look at him search his pockets, he was planning something, obviously. How was she the only one who could see how shady he was? Her eyes narrowed. Now that she was here, she was more than reluctant to approach him.
"Don't look now, Marta, but I think that's our man..."
She murmured, in hopes the approaching part would be taken over by her companion, which, if she was right in her judgement of her character, it would be.



How was it Johan was outside the bar? Well, that was easy. He had been enjoying himself, really, had congratulated Marcus, and, after some persuasion hrom his students, had even had a beer, despite it being only midday. Unbeknown to him, one of his subordinated was still suffering, terrified at the bar, a young girl, daughter of one of their greatest enemies, crying in his arms (had it been Jamil there in his stead, she'd have been kidnapped or killed already. Then again, had it been Jamil there, the girl would have likely found another shoulder to cry on). He would continue to do so, as Johan, on his way to the bar himself to get his second beer that day, was suddenly struck by a realisation: It was almost one in the afternoon already, as the huge, old clock hanging over the imprssive collection of mugs owned by Little Henry's had been so nice to tell him! Almost! One! At first, it had only been a vague feeling that he was supposed to be doing something at this time today. Something... something.... the report! Today, the special delivery had arrived, and had been supposed to be taken in by Emil, pardon, Jonathan, as his trusted lieutenant was called here! The man had told him, very urgently at that (some might say almost in an insulting manner, as if he didn't trust his captain to remember it if he only said it once, and talked in a voice usually used when talking to grown up men), to wait for his report at one in the afternoon precisely, and when Emil said "precisely" he meant "the second my atom clock says it's one in the afternoon, and not one singly second later". All of this wouldn't have been so bad (except it was, because Emil was not a man he liked to disappoint, he tried so hard to organize everything and keep the order, it was quite heartwarming, and he would surely be sick with worry if Johan didn't take the report) if it had simply been the report on the delivery, but their process on project Aletheia was the actual reason for the call, and the thought that he might miss that update was truly panic-inducing. So panic inducing, in fact, that he dropped his empty mug where he stood (something that wasn't unusual in Little Henry's, the bar where people went to get drunk, mostly, and was therefore didn't get much attention), turned around where he stood, and got out of the bar, away from any students who might listen in on the call (much to the dismay of poor Zuzen, who's silent scream and hand reaching out for him Johan didn't even notice). On his way outside, he was shortly stopped by Sasha, who of course had not taken his eyes off of him for a second, and he told him in an unusually stern manner not to follow him, to remain here, with his friends. He couldn't drag the boy into this just yet. He didn't give him the time to protest as he stormed outside, on his way to a closed off alley or... or a corner where he could just be alone for a few minutes. He never got there, of course, a few steps out the door, he notied something. His pockets felt awfully empty. He tapped them, then searched them, in an increasing state of panic, even murmuring "no,no,no" in an increasingly panicked voice. his luck had left him alone this far, why did it have to strike again today?? Why? If he had lost the baby den den mushi, if... if one of the students found it..... oh lord, the consequences! He had no way to know who it was! And on top of that, he couldn't decide what was worse: That, in some sort of extremely bad luck and uncautiousness on Emil's part some poor student got dragged into this mess and made it known, or that they'd be able to shut him or her up before word got out. Both seemed just utterly horrible!

This time Marta was more than sure she hadn't said anything odd, at least nothing odd enough to warrant such clamor. Were they always like this? Surely they couldn't be; who would put up with such a thing day in and day out? It was hypocritical of course: there were times where she was like this exactly and if she had been send to this island for her studies who knows, it could have came to pass that she would be a member of this group, but in her mind it was all for the information gathering. Express and blatant reconnaissance. For other parties. If she found out something of interest to her personally, well, that was just the cherry on the sundae. Not that she had ever pried about anything pertaining to her siblings' lives and significant others before. That would have been unconscionable (even more so if she had actually been caught). Looking at this trio only led her to think that their guilt would be easily assuaged by the mention of anything close to something they wanted to hear.

At this point, she was quite literally biting her tongue. Not because she was halting herself from speaking particularly vicious words-- from the example of her "cursing" only moments earlier, it would be a wonder if she actually knew any truly vitriolic vocabulary. This feeling of dislike wasn't sitting well with her. She was tired. She was antsy, and with the remembrance of the misplaced book only more so. That had to be it. She couldn't allow these negative feelings to impact her perception of these other, probably lovely, girls. Instead, she would focus on the temporary pain occurring behind her lips (and the pain in her heart for disappointing Lisali. Ouch.).

Despite the moral high ground she was trying to not place herself on but was doing so anyways, she couldn't help but buy in to the girls' dramatics at the mention of a forbidden tryst. And honestly, she tried to hide it by the time Lisali was shaking the truth out of one of them, but there probably wasn't any point to it: it's not like she hadn't gasped at the mere thought of the thing (although looking back on it, the entire prospect seemed so unfitting of the van Anden girl). Hoping that her partner in this missing persons search had been more interested in finally getting the correct information than the theatrics of a young woman who had been away from her sisters for too long, Marta tried to seem cheery and completely ready to go when the last wavering word left the gossip's lips and Lisali was once more set on their goal. Surprisingly, their goal was much closer this time around.

It seemed as though their journey was finally coming to an end, and even though Esther wasn't in front of them the professor would know where she would be! He had to! Yet, it also looked as though he was preoccupied with other matters. Surely nothing that couldn't wait a few moments, certainly. Certainly so! As a professor, it was his job to dispense knowledge and by how professor-y he looked--the scale of which had just been created in the wedding planner's mind-- he should be more than willing to help.
As she waited for Lisali to approach him, wondering more and more (or at least as much as those seconds that felt like minutes would allow) why they were still standing in the same place, it finally hit her. Oh, how foolish she was. Briefly, she looked back at the gossips, though her sight was mostly blocked by hair. Lisali couldn't approach the professor! It was all so clear! If the van Anden had taken any steps towards the man that would have only fueled the flames of the rumor and no matter what happened between her and that other professor, Lisali didn't deserve that that kind of social noose. Life on this island must be difficult, indeed. To use her 'visitor' status for good, well, that was the only just option.

With the sort of poise that seemed unfitting given Marta's earlier displays of acting the embarrassed, giddy school girl, she strode towards the frantic man. "Excuse me, are you alright? You seem--" No! no matter how much she wanted to help him and that it would pain herself not to offer aid straight away, she couldn't do that. Not when they were so close to finding the bridesmaid. "I... I mean, I'm sorry for disturbing you, but we really need your help. Actually, two fold." Given all the time she hadn't spent thinking about the missing book, she had no idea how to approach asking for help. Bringing up Esther, the easier of the two to request and get an answer on, would give her time to think. "Would you happen to know where a girl named Esther is? It's rather vital that we find her..."

The entire time she was talking, her friendly expression had been marred by a look of confusion that threatened to take over. No, it was impossible. She could stop herself no longer (honestly, it was a miracle she had stopped herself this long). "Do... do you-- Are you alright? " Whatever it was must be important enough to start panicking out in the open for, especially in this place where decorum seemed to be king. Surely even professors, no matter how wrapped up in research, would know this.

Johan almost jumped when he heard the young womans voice. He spun around to its source, his hand reaching for his side reflexively, only to find that he, of course, wasn't carrying his cutlass with him, hadn't been for a few months, in fact, Southcoast was very strict on its "no weapons" policy. Not that there had been any need for using his weapon here, how rude of him to even have this reflex. The lady in front of him obviously wasn't any danger, just look at her, she was so cute, she reminded him of that doll he had given little Adelaide for her second birthday. Of course, it had ended up with its hair cut, its dress torn and used in fights against live rats, or whatever else the little lady had found amusing... Ah, but now wasn't the time! How entirely rude of him to try and reach for his nonexistant weapon! He should definitely apologise! Despite still quite close to breaking down with worry, Johan put a wavering, nervous smile on his face.
"Oh, I am so sorry, I...."
No, no, wait! He couldn't tell her he was sorry for trying to draw his cutlass on her, he officially wasn't even in possession of one, damn it! But he had already begun his excuse, so what... okay, just.... calm down.... leave the part about the weapon out and things'll be fine.
"I.... am not always that jumpy."
It wasn't a lie, right? Still, Johan found his eyes drawn to the ground as he said it, look anywhere, just not at her. It hadn't been the entire truth either, and he wasn't really comfortable with that at all. It was showing, too. Many things could be said about Johan Frideswide, but he was definitely not a good actor. He cleared his throat, and tried to push the feelings of guilt back while he forced himself to look back at her and continue their conversation. Nothing to be ashamed of here, you haven't done anything wrong, just keep talking or she'll notice!
What was she asking about? Esther? Esther, Esther..... Sounded familiar. He just couldn't put his finger on it though..... One of his students? No, no, he knew their names. Esther.... He had definitely heard it before! But where? Aah, this was driving him insane! So insane, in fact, that he successfully forgot why he was feeling so worried again....
After a while, he gave up and shook his head, sadly.
"I wish I could help you, really, dear, but I'm afraid...."
"It's Esther von Rosberg, you know her. The girl who was always with Sasha Devon? Your student? Whos interest in you is so close to an obsession it's inappropriate?"
Johan hadn't noticed the second girl approaching, and was mildly surprised when she just suddenly stood beside him. It took him a moment to recognise her, but when he did, he smiled and nodded.
"Miss van Anden, isn't it. I understand you are getting married? My congratulations."
Heartfelt congratulations at that. he really, really wanted this young couple to live a life full of bliss and happiness and far away from any wars or poverty or treacherous politics. It had to go right some times, right? At least 90% of times, right? Why would people keep doing it if it didn't.... Of course, he knew the answer to that: because people wanted to hope that it did. And he hoped with them. Miss van Anden seemed to be such a sweet, smart young lady, and her groom was... well...
Lisali waved his congratulations off. There was no need for more than basic politeness with this man, she did not like him, and she couldn't help hinting at it with everything she did. He either did not catch her hints, or he was really, really good at hiding that he did, both of which didn't put him any higher on her list of people she respected.
"Your congratulations will not be necessary. Congratulate my mother, if you must, it's more her wedding than mine."
A small sigh from him told her that he had understood what she meant, but she didn't want his damn sympathy, and so, before he could say anything, she went on.
"Now, if you would be so kind. Esther von Rosberg?"
There it was again. He was staring at his feet, then at the wall of Little Henry's, shortly at her, then at his feet again.
"Yes, as I said, I never had the pleasure of really getting to know her, and I do not know where she is. I wish I could be of more help to you, but...."
It was clear he did not intend to finish his sentence. That little weasel. He was lying, it was obvious!

Half lying, really. Johan'd have loved to get to know Alphonso von Rosbergs own daughter, especially since she seemed such a sweet girl. Alas, as both Emil and Zuzen had explained to him in great lenght, it was too great a risk. She might have seen him on his wanted posters, and even though the picture they used was quite old (not to mention doubtlessly meant as both a taunt and an actual insult), one could never be sure of just how much of her father's anaytical mind and good memory she had inherited. You could never trust a government worker... Jamil had offered to kidnap her for him when he had entrusted him with his wishes.... so he supposed Emil and Zuzen's idea was still better. He had promised not to get too close to her. He wasn't an idiot after all, not all of the time at least. He had a realistic judgement of his own abilities as an actor, and he knew that such a subject was risky for him to even discuss, especially since he knew Lisali was a psychology student (even though he was absolutely sure she would not report his to the autorities even if she found out about.... well, about anything, really. She was such a goodhearted, kind girl).
Luckily, he knew how to get out of this rather uncomfortable situation. He turned back to the first girl, the one with the dollface, the one he didn't know, an apologetic look on his face (that was actually an honest apologetic look, he really was so sorry).
"I must aplogise, where are my manners? We have not been introduced yet. My name is-"
Next to him, though he didn't notice, Lisali tensed, the look on her face suddenly a lot more grim than before. Not feeling the tension, Johan extended his hand, smile on his face, then suddenly noticed what a huge mistake he was going to make. He had to quite literally bite his own tongue to keep himself from telling her his name was Johan. After so many months, anyone'd have thought he'd gotten used to it, yet this kept happening! One moment of carelessness and he was off telling people about revolutions. Ba his close safe, a short pause was made, enough to Lisali to find herself reassured that all her suspicions were true. The smile crept back on her face. Nothing to make you smile like the small victories did.
"His name is Arthur Huxley, professor of history, in case you had forgotten...."
Her voice was sickenly sweet, dripping with honey again. He might have insulted her manners by remarking on hos she hadn't introduced them, but this was more than worth it! Just look at that insecure smile on his face, he just didn't knwo how to take her words at all.
"And this is Marta Prins, traveller and, during her stay here, my guest."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor Huxley". She, not unlike earlier with Gustav, clasped both of her hands around his. This time however, she was contented to leave them there a little bit longer than normal. This poor man seemed so nervous. He claimed that this display of jumpiness was out of the norm for him, so whatever was troubling him must have been dire. She hoped this silent display of support, the solidarity behind the grip of her hands, would be enough to ease his nerves at least somewhat. At least enough that he could finish an entire sentence without trailing off: not knowing the whereabouts of Esther was one thing, but stuttering on his name! His worries must be quite troublesome indeed.

As it stood, though, he didn't seem to have the foggiest idea where Esther was and that left them stranded back in square one, a square that fate seemed more than determined to shoehorn them into for the rest of the day. And, as fate also probably had written in its memo pad, this day was already well into afternoon; at this rate it would pour into evening, then dusk, and perhaps even night. Marta hadn't planned that far ahead: she had planned to hop another boat and head on her way to the next island-- with some crews, it would take equally as long to butter them up as it did to apparently find one girl. What was she to do about lodging? Sure, she could rest in the alleyways, but that would cause more of a stir and most assuredly more issues for Lisali as she was probably synonymous with the van Anden at this point. And imposing on this girl that had been so kind to her already? Perish the though! They simply had to finish this before it got to that point. Marta couldn't allow herself to give up this easily, not after actually finding this professor. She had to think. "Oh, oh but even if you don't know where Esther is, maybe you know where her friend is? Her friend, um..." What was their name? Were they a bridesmaid too? It was all so much information to process in such a short amount of time and without anything to take notes on.

Outside of her job, others tended to think it mildly suspicious when Marta took notes about them. She didn't know why, to be honest: sometimes it's just simply impossible to remember things such as Lady Grenadine wanting her tiny bichon, Poofles, to be dressed in off-white, but closer to pearl than cream but not actually pearl because that would blend in too much with Poofles' coat. Or that Count Ingles hated the potato crisps at Cafe Vie, but loved the ones from Wendel's. This was discounting the fact that Wendel used to be the head chef at the Vie so both recipe's were exactly the same. Useless information? Perhaps. But it could be invaluable someday.

"Sasha! Yes, Sasha! Do you know where she is?" Something felt a little off about her question, but Marta was certain she had the name right, so the notion was easily shrugged off. "You said that Esther would be with her, didn't you?" She continued, posing the question to Lisali rather than the professor. Maybe there was something about a birthday party being held at the bar in front of them said earlier, but that was clouded over in Marta's haze of anticipation. In fact, she was just on a roll with these questions: it was as though someone had forgotten to turn off the spigot that connected her brain to her vocal chords and mouth. "While I'm thinking about it--oh! Please, do excuse me," she had forgotten that she had been holding the professor's hand this entire time, how embarrassing. After noticing her faux pas the rapidly returned her hands to her side offering only a timid smile in return. Hopefully he wouldn't think any less of her for it. "D-do either of them have dark hair? Not black, but a dark brown that's almost black but not quite? It would be so nice to capture two birds with one piece of bread."

How difficult it was to keep in mind both problems at once. Being at sea so single-minded for so long must have left her brain to wither in the absence of taking care of the needs of about ten brides at once personally, more if she counted her input with the other employee's commission. But if they ended up converging in one spot, oh! The mere idea of it filled her heart with hope, the kind of hope that most others would call foolish, but she knew better! Sometimes things just had to work out! They did find the professor after all, and that certainly had to be due in part to some sort of luck. It would all come together: Lisali would apologize to Esther, Marta would find that silly little book and be able to return it, she would then help Lisali with her wedding problems, and, if he would allow her to, she would aid the professor in his worries as well. All in time to retrace her steps back to the dock and back into the vast Blue. How could this possibly go wrong?

"I..."
To say Johan was completely overwhelmed by all those sudden questions coming his way would have been an understatament. Before all this.... well, this revolution business had started, he'd been known as a horribly shy man, even reclusive at times. Whether he had been, and still was, to a point, that because he was so bad with social situations, or whether he had become bad at social situations because he'd alwas fled from them, no one could say, but being as it was, he simply could not deal with all those words thrown at him right now. For a few seconds, he felt the familiar sensation of his heart tightening a bit, and his head emptying as all the useful things he could have said vanished. It had been hard, in the beginning. He had not been what one would call a charismatic man back then, even after all the lessons on oratory and how to present himself, he had never quite gotten the hang of it until he had been forced to. The words came to him when he was angry, when he saw injustice, when he was rallying his men for a battle, and unfortunately, he was not in any such situation now.
Ten years ago, he'd have been completely lost, would have stuttered his way out of the situation and locked himself in the library. Twenty years ago, he would have not even managed to stutter.
But at his age, with his experience in things he didn't like, Johan had made a huge step in those things: after a few seconds, his brain actually took up working again, and it went about all the new information like it did with battle plans. So maybe him jumping at the first problem he saw was not such a weird thing after all.

"She?"
He turned to Lisali, a questioning look on his face. The girl understood in a heartbeat what his problem was, and her answer came quickly.
"I apologise, Marta seems to have some things wrong here...."
She turned to Marta, and Johan could have sworn the smile on her face had just cooled down a bit.
"We're looking for Sasha Devon, he is my fiancé."
The way she was looking, no, peering at Marta, Johan was very much sure there was something going on here he did not quite understand.

With the professor looking at her, then Marta, then her again, Lisali was sure he was trying to work out where the sudden hint of animosity from her side had come from. She had to admit, being so cold towards the poor girl was not fair, really. She couldn't have known Sasha was her fiancé, and some people just didn't have it in them to realise they were touching a sore spot with some topics. Marta seemed to be an extreme case, she had practically been riding on her sore spot the entire day, things with her sore spot had gone from bad to worse the moment she had thought it a good idea to approach her. Why couldn't she jsut let this damn thing go? If it hadn't been for her manners, Lisali would have slapped her and stormed off right then and there. But looking, no, it had become glaring by now, at Marta, her innocent face, the light green eyes, it became more than painfully clear to her that Marta was not even aware of her offense. More than that, she likely thought she was helping. Her obliviousness was dumfounding, almost aggravating. On some level, it might have been endearing.
Lisali sighed deeply, closing her eyes for a second and massaging her temples, something she usually wouldn't do, especially not in such close proximity to the three gossips. Such gestures could easily e blown out of proportion, and before she knew it, the whole island would think she was in a complicated love triangle. (No, not a triangle, she realised, she was betrothed, so she always brought two persons to those stories.... a love square? Oh lord, what had her life become, that she gave a full two seconds of thought to those things.)
She needed to calm herself down though. Life thought it was pulling this great practical joke on her here, and it was her job to endure with all the dignity she could muster...
"And his hair happens to be light brown..."
She heard herself mumbling, almost apologetically.

Johan could not say he understood what was going on between those two. Of course, the message came as no shock for him, he had known Sasha was to marry Lisali, and also that he was reluctant to do so, though the boy had never quite told him why. Lisali seemed a polite, friendly, smart and, on top of that, also quite pretty girl, and the two of them didn't appear to hate each other either.... But it wasn't his place to interfere here. Not a thing you'd expect a revolutionary to say, but he was very certain he was not the man to go to for marriage counsel....
He noticed the way Lisali's shoulder sagged a bit after her one sided stare down with Marta was appearantly over. He had a feeling she was not feeling so good. One of the few talents he had, he could sense unhappiness pretty well, and it appealed to him. A great motivator, in a way. Automatically, without thinking, Johan placed his hand on her shoulder. She jerked a bit at the touch, then turned her head and, he was very positive, glared at him. Johan took his hand off of her shoulder very, very quickly. Okay, so she didn't want to be comforted. Or maybe she just didn't want to be comforted by him? He did not know what he could have done to her to get that reaction.... whatever it was, it was a strong motivator as well. He would definitely make sure to keep his hands off of her for he rest of his stay. On a scale of one to Alphonso von Rosberg, that glare had been.... well, it had been chilling enough to teach him a healthy dose of respect for this young lady.
He looked at his feet to not have to return her glare anymore, still he felt her light blue eyes lingering on his skin for what felt like eternity. When she was finally done staring, he almost didn't dare move anymore, but the silence was starting to become awkward, and so he, making sure to focus on Marta rather than Lisali, cleared his throat carefully.
"Sasha is inside."
The first full sentence he had been able to form in this conversation, wasn't it....
Johan had no time to be proud of this small feat though, his moment was rudely interrupted, not by Lisali this time, but by the clocktower, which loudly announced that it was, now, exactly one in the afternoon.
Johan's eyes widened when the loud melody reminded him why he had gone outside in the first place.
"Oh dear..."
His eyes widened as it all came back to him, right, there was a poor, innocent student potentially in great danger because of his clumsiness, and he had wasted his precious last minutes talking to those two!
But he didn't know where the den den mushi was, it wasn't here, definitely, he could not hear it ringing anywhere. Then where, where?!
He didn't know, and there was no way to find it in time. It felt like eternity to him, but the bells had not stopped tolling when he had made the only decision he could.
His face became adamant, the panic that had been stealing into his eyes was replaced with a decisiveness that was completely contrary to the things he'd been showing this far.
"Miss Prins, it has been a pleasure to meet you."
He bowed to her slightly, it was strange how the etiquette lessons always came back to him in situations like this.
"Miss van Anden, I would be very thankful if you and your guest would tell Sasha that I have left, and that he should not wait for me here, it's unlikely I return."
No hint of stuttering. Of course, Johan didn't notice. It was moments like this when he was at his best.
"The best of luck to both of you."
With that, he turned from them, and marched down the street, the stern look of a man who knew exactly what had to e done, and was very determined to do it now about him. There was really only one place to go.


Udo liked the sound of the bells. He liked the melody they played, and he liked how loud they were, they could be heard on the entire island (though, to be fair, Southcoast really was small). The first few days, he had jerked whenever they started, every damn hour of the day, safe for the time between nine pm (which was when th good students were supposed to sleep!) and six am (which was when they were supposed to be up for an hour already). Now, he found himself humming along to the melody he knew by heart whenever he was especially happy. He was starting to hum along to it now, since the feeling of a new found love his head still full of fluffy, sweet thoughts and the sun shining brightly, warming his skin were two things that made him very happy, but he didn't get very far. He was cut off after the first tune by another sound, and at first he thought it was someone else who had decided to sing along, if only what they were singing hadn't been so horribly monotone.... It took him a moment or two to realise that it was the baby den den mushi in front of him ringing. Gregor was looking at it as well, his face unreadable. Udo shot him a short look, which the huge man returned. He saw the question in Udo's eyes, and shrugged, something that looked weird when his incredibly broad shoulders were doing it.
So it was at Udo to make a decision, and with how impulsive the boy was, what he would do was so clear it was almost predetermined. What he didn't know was what dire consequences his decision would have.
He reached for the den den mushi and picked up the mouthpiece.
"Hello?"

Fiancé? Sasha... Sasha was a boy? He was a boy and Lisali's fiancé? The rate at which these facts sunk into Marta's pool of knowledge was so different than she was used to. Usually, if she didn't have full grasp of a situation new facts would come in slowly, comfortably, like sliding into a warm bath she would have time to fully immerse herself. This, on the other hand, was like getting pelted in the head with ice which was an experience she did not wish to repeat (and an experience which had also taught her to stand a good distance away from certain ice carvers while they were performing their task). Yet here she was with new information like shrapnel assaulting her. The cold stare Lisali gave her wasn't doing much to dispel the ice simile either. Yet, considering what she had just done, Marta figured she deserved this. She should have chosen her words more carefully, seemed more neutral on the entire matter rather than letting her enthusiasm get the best of her once again. Now not only did she insult the poor girl which she had been trying to help this entire time, but the Professor had been put into an awkward situation that he didn't deserve to be in which would do nothing to aid his nerves. All this trouble brought on by her deteriorating social skills.

Well, this cemented it: as soon as they were finished here she would have to stop by the nearest stationery store and purchase a journal as well as a pen! She could not bear this happening again. Her first note after all of this on the van Anden affair --that had a nice ring to it-- would be finding somewhere to settle down, at least for a little bit. Probably not here: it was becoming clearer by the minute that her years spent with the less than proper company she had run across had put her at a disadvantage in such a socially refined place. At this rate, she wouldn't even be able to show her face back in Marrymore for the fear of ruining someone else's pride.

The consultant was just ashamed, so very ashamed of what she had done. She knew that all of the rudeness Lisali was projecting onto the poor Professor was the result of her insulting, misguided tongue and her face showed her extensive understanding on that. Looking very much like the dog that had just gotten yelled at for chewing its master's slippers, she couldn't even bare to look the two of them in the eyes.
The professor's farewell washed over her with no impact. She didn't even make a move towards acknowledging anything he said outside of a short nod or two until he had already walked a fair distance away. Looking up, she had expected him to still be there--no matter how stupid that thought was on retrospect-- but upon seeing him already have departed she quickly turned around. "It was a joy meeting you, Professor!" She called after him, giving him a curtsey that he wouldn't be able to see unless he had eyes on the back of his head.

Yet now she was alone with Lisali who probably wanted nothing more than to throw her into the ocean, and Marta herself wouldn't be completely adverse to being swallowed up by the clear waters. No matter how desirable running away (or... drowning, as her thoughts implied) seemed, she couldn't allow herself to take the coward's way out. How could she expect anything of the others if she, herself, could not preform the same tasks. If there was something she never considered herself to be, it would be a hypocrite. With a stiff swivel she turned to she who had been wronged, hands clasped in front of dress. "Lisali, I am so so sorry. I didn't mean to insult you or Sasha, I honestly didn't." All in all, Marta was managing to keep her composure relatively well: she hadn't shed any tears despite the insistence of her eyes shining as though they were about to and her tone sounded genuinely apologetic, but not over-dramatically so. If she was perhaps more of the plotting type, she would have taken note on how to subdue her enthusiastic emoticons as such, but that was something she just didn't have in her. "I... we should go in," she finished lamely. Maybe that would be enough, maybe it wouldn't, but she had been earnest. That was all she could do.

As far as bars went, she had been to much more, well to put it bluntly, disgusting establishments. There was this one place, charmingly named 'The Cherry Hole', where, ugh. Oh no, she couldn't even think about it. The miscellaneous substance(s) crusted into the corners, the lighting made from cracking booze bottles , the... activities taking place in the not-so-hidden and not-so-soundproof back rooms: it was enough to make her wretch (don't even get her started on the smell of the place). This place was only like it in spirit, as though it was trying so hard to become that gritty but all of its patrons were students and stuffy professors so its rowdiness was only a product of scholarly stress. Yet, there was still something about it, or the situation, that made her feel uneasy. Marta chocked it up to feeling the pangs of Lisali's (hopefully only) lingering bitterness, but upon touching the door handle she resolved to be more wary, astute of what could happen inside. As she helf the door open for her companion she asked, "Do you think we should split up? I wouldn't want to make either of them feel ganged-up on..." She wanted to be there to help her friend, but she also didn't want to risk saying something stupid again. Maybe she should just stay out here and watch the door, actually: that would lower the risks the most.