Operation: Tweak Marc Franco

[Jaycy Ashleana]

January 10, 2010, morning.

She thought she was unflappable. Rumors and stories and innuendos had swirled around her regarding her personal relationships for years. She knew the truth, though, and that was what mattered. Why did Marc’s words hurt so much, then? She liked him well enough and she thought he liked and respected her; at least enough to keep to the request she’d made of him. She frowned down at the crumpled copies of two entries from the Gossip GangSTAR. Those two paragraphs had almost destroyed her.

“We love the old Jaycy. You know, the bed-hopping, commitment-phobe, marriage vow breaking heart-breaker!”

She shook her head, green-gold gaze passing over those words once more. Vow-breaking? Those words were printed the same day Psly’d received their invitation to Anya’s wedding. The combination had made her sensitive enough to feel truly stung when Kel made her request for them to slow down. She’d taken it badly – how out of control was she? She’d been afraid to even touch anyone after that day, especially her lovers and close friends.

“It’s time for her to go cheat and ruin her personal life all over again.”

It was no secret that she had two lovers beyond Psly. At least she didn’t think it was. Her brows creased, blankly peering at the papers. When was the last time she’d gone to see them, anyway? She couldn’t remember. It was a few weeks, mayhap even leaning closer toward a month. Marc at least got that right. She almost only had eyes for the azure dragon-man. She also was very afraid of ruining the relationship. Nova and Teagan had been the final straw and she broke, dashing into the locker room in the middle of a shift and bawling. Mart, Kel and Neo had to come comfort her. It’d taken two more days before she could talk to Psly about it and gain his reassurances that she was unlikely to ruin what they had, particularly over her more casual encounters.

Jaycy’s attention drifted upward as a shirtless Psly padded quietly into the Barn’s kitchen. The Ring of Seaside and tricetra pendants bounced faintly on his bare chest with each step and blue sweatpants hung low on his hips. She graced him with a warm smile as he approached; a gesture that was returned by the man. He moved behind her chair then brought a hand to her bare shoulder and squeezed as he leaned down to press a greeting kiss to the top of her head. She tucked the edge of the blanket wrapped around her under her arm before reaching up, to rest her hand on his.

“Why are you still obsessing over that trash, love?” he asked, squeezing once more before pulling away and toward the pot of coffee she’d thoughtfully started percolating for him. He leaned against the counter, hip pressing into the edge, facing the table and woman seated there. She lifted the mug of tea that sat next to the papers and took a small sip before turning on the seat, feet to the side and facing him.

“Because I can’t just let it go, Psly. You know how much it all hurt. I know it’s his job to create gossip and rumors but I don’t think he understands how horrible these comments are.” She shook her head slowly, loose red and silver curls swishing back and forth in the motion. “I also don’t think he understands that writing things like this isn’t going to work like he hopes.”

“What’re you going to do then? Write him a letter telling him that we’ve found each other as partners for life and nothing is going to change that?” He chuckled and stole a glance to the almost-ready coffee. He straightened and reached into the cabinet for a mug, pulling it from its space and setting it on the counter next to the pot. He leaned against the counter again, folding his arms. An ankle crossed over the other lazily as she appeared to think about that, idly tugging the blanket a little tighter around her frame.

“No,” she finally answered. “He’d either ignore the letter, make a joke of it, or actively try and break us up out of principle.” Jaycy frowned thoughtfully, sipping slowly at her hot tea. A hand lifted to idly tuck a few stray strands of silver hair behind her gently pointed ear. Suddenly, her gaze darted up to meet his, green-gold to darker green, and she grinned, face blossoming into animated life. “I know. We can show him how much we mean to each other.” She paused for a beat and then continued. “You know, once in a while being extra sweet in public. Little things that silly people would report back to him and let him know we’re still together and love each other and all.” Her brows lifted questioningly; how was that?

He stayed silent for a moment, then chuckled. “I think we can do that.” Psly grinned at her before standing straight, turning around, and pouring himself a cup of coffee. The wheels were already turning.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

January 14, 2010, the Arena: Round One.

She slipped into the locker room, a brief scowl marring her features. Both challenge matches were being sent to Council. How to vote in the matter of Vanion’s challenge to Tical was easy to decide. He didn’t show up so he was held in forfeit. No matter the reason. She didn’t care nor was she likely to believe whatever drivel he offered as an excuse. Anubis, however. The scowl returned and she shook her head, padding for her locker.

Her feelings for Anubis were well-known. It would have given her great pleasure to simply vote him in forfeit and find a way to keep him from challenging for several weeks. She knew she couldn’t do that, though. Anubis had been there; only some quirk of fate had prevented the challenge from finishing. She would have to be fair and vote for a reschedule. She didn’t have to like it, of course, but she had to do the fair thing.

Reaching the small cubby that held a few changes of clothing and things she might need for officiating (but that she never used, honestly), the gypsy pressed her palm into the metal for a moment. She needed that time alone where no one was watching her. Time when she didn’t have to try and be a “pillar of the community.” A few minutes where no one was watching her, waiting for her to screw up again. Even her love life was under intense scrutiny.

Marc Franco. Gah. His words continued to haunt her, hovering in the back of her mind. At some point he’d have to get the message, right? What could they do, though, that wouldn’t look contrived and fake and obvious? She opened the locker, pondering that question. Jaycy suddenly gasped, train of thought forgotten. Eyes widened at the surprise addition to the contents.

A single, long-stemmed rose with velvety petals of deep crimson leaned against the interior wall of the locker. The bud was still tightly formed, the stem and leaves a bright, new green. Jaycy reached out with a trembling hand. There was no accompanying note, but she knew who left it as soon as fingers made contact with the stem. Her intended shower forgotten, she withdrew the token from the locker and absently shut the door.

She lifted it to her face and inhaled deeply. Eyes misted as Jaycy took in the smell of the precious flower. Her other hand came up to join the first and she pressed the flower to her chest. “Oh, love,” she breathed. This sent the message loud and clear and it wasn’t faked, or contrived. Her gaze moved to the small sitting area near the door of the locker room and feet followed, leading her to the space. Rose held close, she eased into a seat and cradled the token.

She’d take a few minutes just to enjoy his thoughtfulness. A few minutes where she didn’t have to be “The Baroness,” the “Opal,” “the Official…” She shuddered, remembering the Taneth who tried to serve all of the title holders in the duels. Council matters could wait. Being out there could wait. She was just going to sit there and daydream about the man she loved and the rose in her hands and how she was going to thank him and show him how much she appreciated it and…

… she fell asleep.

She woke a few hours later to Teagan covering her with a blanket. They exchanged nods and Jaycy offered a sleepy smile of thanks. Teagan continued toward the showers and the gypsy rubbed her eyes, yawning. Slowly she sat upright, one hand carefully cradling the rose as the other drew the blanket off her form. It was probably past time for her to get home.

The gypsy reached into a pocket of her jeans, withdrawing the crystal that would take her instantly home. The feel of the rose’s stem in her hand made her pause, however, and she slid the crystal back into her jeans. It may not be a bad idea to walk through the Arena and let people know what he had done. It might get back to Franco. She chuckled and moved for the door. Before she opened it, she took a moment to remember finding the rose and remember the man who had given it to her.

When she made her way toward the stairs and told Cas that Psly had surprised her with the token in her locker, she didn’t need to pretend or even exaggerate her manner to show just how smitten she was.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

January 20, 2010, the Outback: Round Two.

The dolls had been custom-made in early December. She’d originally only thought to only commission two – one of her to give to someone for Yule and one of that someone to keep for herself – but she’d been so impressed with the work she’d immediately ordered versions of both Kel and Psly for her to keep. The six-inch stuffed figures had remained a secret (or at least, they all pretended it was a secret) for weeks.

The dolls made a passable substitute for the real versions when she couldn’t see them and was lonely. She almost treated them as living mini-versions of her partners even though they never moved without her manipulation and never spoke back. The Psly-doll in particular found himself in her arms quite often. He was a constant companion when she relaxed in the living room of the Manor and read; together they huddled under blankets to ward off the chill that the fire couldn’t completely banish and pored over tales and treatises.

The decision to take the doll to the Outback hadn’t been an easy one. It was a private – and personal – thing for her and she wasn’t sure about letting the world know about it. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed to have the doll; it was that she had already been a lot more obvious in her affection publically for Psly than she’d ever been with anyone and she didn’t want to make anyone think she was trying too hard. In the end, though, she decided that she wanted to take him for purely selfish reasons. Jaycy hadn’t seen the real Psly in two days and she missed him terribly. She tucked the doll into the comforting confines of her bomber jacket and zipped it up halfway to keep him inside and then made her way to the Outback.

Once there she settled on the couch and took out her miniature Psly so that someone might notice it and get that back to Marc Franco. At least one person should see it, she thought. She didn’t expect it to be noticed as much as it was, however. It seemed like everyone stopped to stare at the doll! She managed to act naturally and not blush too much despite all of the scrutiny over the figure. The combination of the mini-Psly in her lap and Kel snuggling on the couch with her finally lulled the gypsy to sleep.

Kel gently tipped Jaycy over onto the couch before slipping out. The redhead curled around the miniature Psly in her sleep, tucking the doll tight against her and murmuring unintelligibly. She clutched the figure to her breast much like a dragon hoards over her treasure. Mayhaps for this woman it was her treasure.

After his final duel of the evening, the real Psly made his way to the couch and picked up the sleeping Jaycy long enough so he could sit and cradle her in his lap. She hissed and swatted out at him in her sleep, protectively fighting off a potential thief. He chuckled softly and murmured into her ear, his voice wakening her enough to understand who had picked her up. She nestled into him and enjoyed the duels. Scotty’s fiancé, Harold, had even been coaxed into sparring. It was a lazy evening and she simply enjoyed the comfort of her company – both real and doll versions of her lover.

***

Cas’ late arrival in the Outback roused her from her warm half-doze, especially when he made his way toward the pair and requested that Jaycy be particularly affectionate with Psly. She blinked at him in surprise – Cas didn’t mind him? – but was happy to oblige in the end. She was also quick to correct Cas when her SwordBrother called Psly her boyfriend, replying loudly “And for the record … he is not my boyfriend. He’s my lover and my partner, and the man I’m very much in love with.” A few of her friends whistled and catcalled in approval of that declaration and she flushed once more.

Excitement hit a peak when Wyh almost refused to give Sartan the Opal he had gained that evening, IceDancer. The pair – official and PathFinder’s holder – made their way to the bar to resolve the situation. “Wyh. Please give Sartan my brother,” she finally requested quietly. The women’s gazes remained locked for several moments but finally the Ice Mage released the Blue Opal to its new guardian. Seemingly unaware of her words, Jaycy looked to Psly and asked if it was time to leave.

The dragon-man offered the patrons one last chance to duel but they failed to take advantage of his generosity. They linked hands and the three – Psly, Jaycy and her doll – made their way back to the Manor.


((Adapted from live RP events on Jan 20, 2010 in the RoH Outback.))