The floor of the treehouse is nestled, carefully placed in the break in between a twin-tree trunk about ten feet off the ground. The panel in the center of the wood paneled floor opens to allow a rope to drop down, to give access to those welcome.
The house itself is sturdily built, mainly of pine panels. One wall is left mostly open, covered in a metal wire mosquito-screen. This makeshift window faces the lake, westward.
By itself, the place is scarcely furnished. A bedroll in the corner carries a work pillow, though a rolled-up sleeping bag is available for others. A clay pot in the opposite corner, by the window, smells of woodsmoke and coal, so it's obviously a firepot. A small frying pan leans against it, the bottom blackened by multiple uses.
Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt hangs untucked above them, long sleeved and fastened with a row of small, black stone buttons. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops.
Wow. Sandro sure looks different. He's a she, for one thing. For a woman, her height is just about average, though she's still in need a a few good meals to fill out her thin frame. Her golden-toned skin hints at Latina heritage, a notion reinforced by her sleek, straight black hair, which has been braided and tied off with a length of powder blue ribbon arranged in a bow. Several strands have fallen free to frame a pretty face with delicate bone structure and soft features. Dark eyes glitter behind the errant locks of her hair, bright and intelligent.
The loose grey tunic-style shirt she wears, belted at her waist with braided brown leather, offers a modest glimpse of her figure, which isn't terribly voluptuous but is definitely feminine. If she ever puts on some weight, she might actually start looking womanly rather than like a scrawny adolescent. The brown woolen breeches she wears are somewhat ragged, with patches sewn here and there. In addition to mending, pockets have been sewn in, and many of them are bulging with who-knows-what. On her feet are a pair of clompy leather boots that have seen better decades, repaired with so much duct tape there's very little actual boot left.
Around her neck, on a leather thong, is a pendant made from what looks to be a piece of glass taken from a chandelier, a faceted teardrop that catches ambient light and reflects it back in prismatic sparkles.
It's just past dusk -- the last faint glow of light mixed with the just-risen moon to allow someone to make out forms and movement without the aid of a candle, but not much more. The treehouse is dark, but not empty; the rumpled nest of blankets is very much unmade -- but also occupied. Ren's there, in the dark, lying spread out on his back in the middle of it under one of the blankets, arms stretched limply out to either side, and he's staring at the ceiling, quiet and still.
There is a rustling in the branches, and then a fluttering at the window's blanket. Then there is an irritated croak, an insistent scratching as someone clacks her beak against the side of the window. Doesn't leave a note, doesn't give any idea of when she'll get back, but when she does she expects one to hop to it and let her in. Chicks.
There's no sound from inside, to begin with. After quite a few seconds of the insistent scratching, though, there's a sigh, and then a fairly quiet question, sounding as though it isn't sure whether it's hopeful or not, "...Rae?"
There's a loud croaking, more insistent clacking. If a raven could sound indignant... It's a rhythmic tapping, not a random assault on the window. Intelligent life, such as it is.
The treehouse shakes slightly, as it always does when someone moves within, and the hatch opens, with only the brief view of a hand pulling away. "Close it behind you," Ren says, not very loudly, and flops back into the groove he seems to have made in the nest.
Aurelia flutters in, and contrary to following instructions, she dives into her blankets, which rustle and swell, rising up as a bare leg sneaks out from beneath, then an arm. Then she sits up, shaking out her hair as it falls in her face."It's too damned cold," she announces as she wraps a blanket around her. Then she gets to her feet and pads over to the window, drawing it closed and smoothing the blanket-turned-curtain over it. "Hey there, sugar."
Serendipity had been staring at the ceiling again, actually missing the chance to observe the appetizingly bare limbs, but at the term of endearment he glances over toward her, and smiles a little, rather tentatively. "Heya, beautiful," he replies, and after a second offers without even a hint of lechery (for once), "...could come here'n join me for warmth, if y'wanted."
Aurelia eyes Ren dubiously, but then makes her way over to him -- more importantly, his clothing. She helps herself to the longest shirt of his she can find, and she slips it on for what modesty it'll offer before clambering into the nest and cuddling up. "You look like someone spit in your beer," she comments.
Serendipity shifts and makes room to wrap his arms around the girl and cuddle up; he doesn't appear to be clothed, but on the other hand he doesn't really seem to notice the fact as anything important at the moment. He tilts his head down a bit to bury his face against her hair, and breathes her in for a moment, then sighs a little. One could almost think he'd missed her. "...had better times, I guess," he replies. "Think I mighta fucked up. Anyway. ...where've you been? Have a good time?"
Aurelia smells of woodsmoke and earth. She's been out and about in the wilderness. She's also a bit chilly, so cuddling up for body heat theft is a priority. Ren's courting must be getting results -- he now has her icy feet pressed against him. "Poor Ren," she murmurs. "I just went flyin' to see what there was to see. What happened, cupcake?"
Serendipity winces, but doesn't protest the icy feet -- in fact, he catches first one and then the other between his calves to lend the toes extra warmth. He keeps his face where it is, murmuring to her hair. He smells about normal himself -- a bit cinnamon-spicy, and maybe a bit muskier than usual. "Mm. I tried t'get Miki to act older'n fourteen," he admits ruefully.
Aurelia strokes Ren's hair soothingly, cringing a little as the words sink in. "Oh dear," she murmurs. "You wanna start at the beginning and tell me what happened? Or can we skip ahead to the part where he done broke your heart?"
Serendipity laughs once, soft and still rueful. "...isn't fair t'say he broke my heart; he never really had it t' break, y'know. 'm just -- disappointed. Wonderin' if my instincts went wrong this time. ...no," he decides, thoughtfully, "that's not 'zactly true. They're right. I'm just -- decidin' t' hate me 'cause it's easier'n lookin' at himself's fair enough, but it doesn't mean I hafta like it." He smiles very faintly, and kisses Aurelia's head a couple times, gently. "Missed you," he admits. "...Happened after you left us guys in the diner."
Aurelia nestles in closer and mumbles at the kisses, putting up the token complaint. "Ren, honey, he's a boy. Now I know this is gonna come as a surprise to you, but boys is dumb. All of 'em. Even you, but your heart's in the right place. And someone like him... he's pretty. He's got this town wrapped around his little finger, and he acts like an imperious little snot because he is an imperious little snot. I bet he ain't used to being told nothin' but flattery, so when he hears anything else, it's gonna get him bent out of shape. Hell, last time I talked to him, he got all bent out of shape about somethin'. I dunno what. I don't care, neither. You don't have to like it, but don't expect humility from Haven's own little prince. He'll learn that after he hears the word 'no' a few times." She punctuates the diatribe with a little 'hmph' as if to seal it. Then there's a moment of quiet before she says, "Oh, I just flew about. Nothin' special. Slept out under the sky again for old times sake."
"Well. Never claimed I wasn't pretty dumb sometimes," Ren grants, and gives her another kiss, this one on the cheek. "'s just -- frustratin'. An' believe it or not, what I was pokin' at him for, same thing y'just said -- gettin' all bent outta shape for no obvious reason, 'n' sayin' oh no, nothin's wrong, then keepin' right on sulking." He shakes his head in slight disgust, and then sighs again. It sounds more like frustration than regret.
Aurelia shifts about a little so that she can plant a kiss on Ren's cheek. "Don't fret none," she says. "If he don't learn one way or another, he's the only one gonna suffer for it. That's life." She smiles ruefully, glancing away. "I used to be the golden child. Trust me, I know what I'm talkin' about."
Serendipity half-smiles, stroking Aurelia's hair. "He really didn't like me pointin' out that sayin' nothin's wrong when somethin' is is lying," he remarks, and studies her a moment. "Somehow, I can't quite imagine you bein' the same way. But, y'know. You c'n be my golden child, 'f you want," he offers, only mostly teasing.
Aurelia snorts and gives Ren a poke in the ribs, ever the romantic one. "You can't go back to bein' golden after you get tarnished," she points out. "An' you find out that beneath the shiny coating, you're just a dirty schmuck like everyone else. Look, I like Miki. He's... well, likeable. And untarnished, and oblivious. The moons rise and set around him, and it's hard when you're in that situation, and you gotta learn that it ain't so. It's hard. So don't take it personally if he lashes out at you."
"Oh, I'm not takin' it personal," Ren replies easily enough, "...not 'zactly, any rate. I guess it's just, y'know, sometimes bein' me isn't as easy as it looks, and y'can't exactly ever expect 'em t' thank you. Or, y'know, speak t'you again." He grins ruefully and shifts a bit to pull her in even closer, snuggling right up. "Feelin' kinda better 'bout it now, I guess," he remarks, and leans in with his face close to hers, catching her eyes and lifting a brow slightly. "Tell you a secret," he murmurs, unusually tenderly, "...tarnished gold's worth just as much as shiny."
Aurelia studies Ren's features intently, a smile playing upon her lips as she brushes back a lock of his hair. "Gold don't tarnish," she replies wisely. Then she kisses his cheek again, tentative-like. "I reckon fool's gold's worth just as much so long as no one's payin' too much attention."
Serendipity smiles completely; it's much like the ubiquitous grin, but softer, and more boyish. He touches the side of her face, just before her ear, and draws his fingertips very gently down along her cheek, one brushing slowly across her lips when it reaches them. "Sometimes I think," he murmurs in an apparent non sequitor of a reply, "you're the most beautiful woman I ever met."
Aurelia laughs softly, then snaps her teeth at Ren's fingers, though not hard enough to do any damage. "Flatterer," she accuses warmly. With a sigh, she adds, "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."
Serendipity draws his hand down to rest on the front of her shoulder, and sets his chin lightly atop it, eyes staying on her face. "...let me kiss you?" he entreats in a warm whisper.
Aurelia laughs again, not exactly a resounding boost to the ego, but it's more of a nervous sound than anything else, quiet and breathless. She bows her head, letting her hair fall across her face as she says awkwardly, "Okay."
Serendipity smiles again, and shifts his position once more, brushing the hair away from her face, putting very slight pressure beneath her chin with his fingers to tilt her mouth toward him. He leans in and just barely grazes her lips with his own, first across and then in reverse, before pressing her a quite firmer but still gentle kiss.
If only all first kisses were magic. The first thing Aurelia does is go utterly still, forgetting even to breathe. Then she leans in clumsily, pressing her lips against Ren's tentatively. It's the holding back that keeps her from bumbling too much. The poor girl clearly has no idea what she's doing, but she deserves high marks in effort.
There is, at least, no indication that the awkwardness causes any ill effect. Ren does really fairly well at making things clear; after a few seconds, his hand slips from below her chin to the back of her neck, stroking it with feather-light touches. He breaks the contact of their lips, then presses in again, letting Aurelia get a little more used to it.
Aurelia takes shallow, quick breaths when the contact is broken. Despite warming up quite a bit next to Ren, she shivers as if catching a chill. If one took a glance at her eyes, they're so dilated it's nearly impossible to tell where the dark irises end and the pupils begin. Chatty bird that she is, she makes a quiet sound in her throat, like she means to speak, but it comes out more like a whimper, and then she's kissing him again, fumbling to put her arms around him.
Serendipity kisses her for quite a little while, varying harder and softer and almost breaking the contact again a few times, but eventually he does, pulling away perhaps an inch or so and half-opening his eyes to watch her. He's breathing rather harder too, and doesn't seem inclined to try to be any further away than this.
Aurelia seems to get the hang of this kissing thing, at least enough to work out the basics. Breathing, very important. When Ren draws away, her eyes search his face, half-focused and a little glassy. "Wow," is all she manages to say in a shaky whisper, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Serendipity keeps gazing at her, eyes half-hooded and somewhat hungry. "Wow," he agrees, smiling a little in return, and still rubbing the back of her neck a bit, idly. "...mm. Wanna kiss you s'more," he murmurs, and leans in a little, not quite doing it, but very nearly.
Maybe it's just the heat in the little nest, but Aurelia's cheeks flush, a dusky shade against golden skin. Hesitantly, she traces her fingertips along Ren's lower lip. "Reckon there's no harm," she whispers, then gives a fleeting smile, short-lived but bright and warm. "S'long as you behave yourse..." Somewhere in the midst of her would-be scolding, her lips press against Ren's again, and she curls up nice and close.