Briza — Roleplayer Guild

The First Dilemma of Lady Alssyana Grey
Part I

𝓑ut oh, how lovely she was! I had never seen her so beautiful as on this fatal day...

... 𝓐nd

	... 𝓦ell, I am not going to go into ecstasies over her, but I will just say this: she is one brilliant exception to her whole circle; such a beautiful nature she has, such a firm, right-minded character, so strong in her righteousness and purity of soul that I am just like a little boy before her, like a younger brother; although she is...

	Finnegan seemed lost in some other world of thought, yet still focused on the matter of hand. It seemed all too similar if not even worse in appearance than whatever had befallen Miss Evelyn. It was something tragic in all due respect to the debacle, as the man was usually perhaps too astute and keen with his senses, but at the very sight of his current state of mind, he was a... a mess.

	“Wear off?” Walter looked hesitantly at Lady Alyssana. He was still holding Finnegan's jacket and offering his assistance, which translated to as offering a hand on the back of the chair that his brother was using to keep himself up right. “According to my calculations and the looks of everything, Miss Evelyn was quite under the influence for, for...” his wrist tilted slightly, unvieling the multiple wrist watches adorning him, “Heaven only knows, Alyssana...” He glanced at Finnegan, who seemed far less than himself than the months ago fiasco when some pretty young woman broke his heart, and he wound up drinking himself silly.

	“Ah, yes,” Finnegan smiled drunkenly at Alyssana. He had never felt more open to her (even after hearing his brother relay the embarrassment of his overzealous potion-making). He had an urge to be very clear to her, and if anything he was about to say sounded anything less of being doped, was because it was indeed true that by all means, in the softest truths that his martyringly distracted heart could muster under such a stupefied situation was that he never meant to fake his advances with Lady Alyssana. Finnegan's body relaxed into the chair, oddly inviting of the pretty figure standing in front of him, “I was planning to tell you..”

	“You were?” Walter asked with a sudden stress of disbelief, having not seen, yet again, for the second time of the day that Finnegan had a secret plan being concealed from him. His dark eyes narrowed, uncertain how to treat the situation. He dare not raise any passion of harm against Finnegan, yet there was a desire under the older man's newly cast spell to treat him with some sense of distrust and unworthiness as opposed to elaborate pity over the situation. However, he remained steadfast in his loyalty. His brother looked far too pitiful in his current state, “A-and, here I was so under distress that I had misspoken and given too much information away...”

	He shook his head and again, looked to Lady Alyssana with the same yearning eyes. There was jealousy within him, but he kept it hidden, like his watches being tucked back under his blouse sleeve. This was not the time for such quarrelsome matters.

	“Of course, W... alter.” Finnegan made a dazed smile under his mustache. He seemed to be committed to some lazy joke that prodded his body to try and stand, only he kept failing miserably and proceeded to sink further into the cushions supporting him. An elbow (clothed in damp fabric) was propped on the armrest, and he rested his blushed cheek on the knuckle of his hand, “I-I owe her. Always. Such a... such a....” his mind wandered for the right words, fishing and struggling to catch at least the tails of his tripping romantic advances. He was obviously having some outstanding trouble with his language, but finally, before Walter could turn the attention, Finnegan continued, “Such a... a lovely creature, always. Always.” His head turned over from his knuckle, as if wanting to collapse into the arm of the chair. Walter made a jerky movement, afraid that his brother would outright fall from where he was sitting!

	Yet, again, Finnegan continued in his unabashed style, “Standing in her usual b-...eige and br-brown,.” a small mock of a laugh burst from him in a hazy, jesting manner -- instigated for all the times he had heard the gossip of her ordinarily neutral tones be spoken through the boring voices of naked fingered fashion goddess who spent too much time in the toiletry powdering their cheeks with two-faced political speeches. 

	“Yes....” Walter said quickly, agreeing and nipping his lips closed, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment for his brother. Finnegan was making very little sense to the outside world, unfortunately. Walter's eyes shot at Lady Alyssana, once again, “There have been some disappearances of specific persons around the S-..”

	“Enough, Walter...  I....” Finnegan suddenly pushed himself from the chair and surprising Walter stiff, again. 

	“Oh...” Walter held out a hand as Finnegan's body stood a little staggered.  Despite all, Finnegan's keen constitution at least was suddenly allowing him some mobile stability. Walter was staring unable to decide if this was for better or for worse. He thought, there was no telling how long Finnegan would be able to stand like this and that it to be the worst. After deciding all in the lickity of a split second, he reached himself forward, but his face was caught by the clumsy backhand of Finnegan trying to make some erroneously flirtatious gesture at the poor Lady Alyssana, “Ahh...hh...”

	“Oh, sor'y, Walt-ter, I....” Finnegan turned to look at Walter and made a small squint of his eyes, “By golly, is your? You nose... Is it bleeding?” He quickly whipped with strange precision from his pocket a small cream handkerchief and tried to dab his younger brother's nose, only to be told that Walter's nose was in fact, not bleeding, and he was merely seeing things. All the while, Walter had gone from believing his nose had been bleeding to realizing his brother was absolutely out of his mind. 

Always, he thought his brother was out of his mind. This time inparticular was much different, though.

	“I am fine. I am -- I am fine, Finny. Please, please sit back down,” Walter tried to calm his brother's strange efforts to alleviate some none existent nosebleed, “Please, Finny, I beg of you." Finally he placed a hand upon Finnegan's shoulder to calm him down.” He looked at Finnegan long and hard, studying his brother's eyes. They were glossed over, and he thought that he did not truly recognize him anymore. Walter felt a drop of hopelessness within himself place itself on the center of his heart, like an ink pen bleeding on damp paper, “I am fine, Finny. Really. If you planned to speak to Alyssana about the murders, we--”

	Finnegan turned suddenly with a strange twist in his wobbling ankles, lacking of agility. Obviously, he was too preoccupied with the Lady to mind Walter. Just the mere mention of her name had caused him to lose interest and focus, like a thin twig snapping under quick pressure; and for the second time that day, Finnegan tripped and fell upon Lady Alyssana. There was nothing Walter could do, except watch as they both tumbled to the ground.

	“Really...” Walter said with a sigh,  “We really... ought to speak about the murder?” His head shook as he strangely tried to hold back tears that a man of his age truly should not have over the current situation, “This is hopeless.”

	However, right before Walter could sink too far into his spirally depression there was a jingle from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Their ornamentation chimed against each other, and the small potions hanging from the various decorative faux-table sized trees slurred in their containers. A small whiff of the powders and elixirs scented through the ruffling of the air.

	And then there was another...

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

And a...

Click!

	“Fin--?” The sound of a strong woman's voice began but quickly trailed away at the sight of him collapsed atop another woman. It was not just another woman, no. It was Lady Alyssana! The bitter faced woman had no use for any man aside from her strange brother, and here, seeing the boringly dressed woman crumpled underneath the likelihood of her Finnegan.

	At first, Walter was dumbfounded that the door was unlocked, or perhaps, Finnegan had stupidly given this woman a spare. Either way, the second he recognized the look on the guest's face, dawned with light powder that was evenly blushed on both cheeks in a pastel Spring Fashion. Her lips were painted in a nice colour that matched her flamingo pink silk serge and polonaise basque over a white underskirt. She was flowing like a desert of sorts, but whatever the expression she was making said the complete opposite of her character.

	“It's not what it looks like!” Walter suddenly snapped as he managed to grab hold of Finnegan, who -- only Lady Alyssana was sure of what he was doing. Walter felt ashamed for both of them, and he had not any plans on how to make whatever was happening any better. If anything, it was all getting worse by the second, and he saw nothing of it getting better anytime soon. The best he could do was conceal Finnegan, but such was not the case.

“L-lady Sylvia...”
	Finnegan began with the most disinterested style of speech Walter had ever heard him use when speaking to someone of the opposite sex.
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