Grace was late, and stressing out about it. She had a lot of trouble saying no, and people kept filtering through the doors unscheduled. She'd worked her fingers half to death getting everybody ready and then had to rush through getting ready herself. Breathing a deep sigh of relief when the clearing came into view, the tiny stylist made her way along the path to the fire, clutching her lacy gray shawl around bare shoulders. Her strapless seafoam dress fell in pretty scalloped layers, a wide gray ribbon at her waist. Silver strappy shoes put more truth behind her 'five feet tall' claim, and freshly re-dyed aqua hair was done up in an elaborate braid with tiny rosette flowers woven in. Nervous and sparkle-eyed, she stood near the fire, eyes shaded on the lookout for a certain Gypsy King.

Mark's delay were a phone call. He wore a black shirt that had a fade in of a starry sky and written in ink subtly ovah it was "My Universe Will Never Be the Same" in a loose kinda handwritten lookin' font. Good set o' jeans and cleaned up back sneakers. His hair was almost totally dry, but styled dah best he could for bein' someone who always kinda raked a hand through it. Finally he hung up the phone, steppin' out from dah recesses of the party which was in the back yard o' his RV. Blue eyes looked fer tha faces he was expecting. For dah grey silver o' Grace, fer Quinn tha extraordinarily tall and Levi the red.

The grey silver was no more, at least temporarily banished in favor of a pale blue green the color of the sea. With zero chance of seeing over the milling crowd about her, Grace was up on her toes anyway. She pulled her phone out of her little silver purse to check for messages. Probably he was hung up with Camp Things, but the tiny dancer worried about it anyway.

Oh yeah, crowning. Grace applauded lightly.

It were a bit like fightin' through an ocean of people. Mark kinda got a half smile cause he thought about Keirra and how if she were workin' she woulda swiped her fill o' wallets. People in a crowd and drinkin'. Whut more could a pick pocket want?

Naht seein' any o? those faces he stopped in his tracks, naht looking up as people brushed by him. He sent Grace a text, askin' if she was already der. He looked up when he heard Shae were the May Queen and smiled, pressin' send on his message.

And then her phone buzzed against her arm where she'd stashed it to applaud. Reading its display, the little thing grinned, typing back to tell him she was right by the fire.

Oi. Fire. Dat's usually where he was tah be found. It felt a bit weird approaching dis other fire tha weren't his own. Unexpectedly nervous and din once he got near enough he sorta recognized her shape and din blinked two or three times, thinkin' he saw her strangley at first and then grinnin' deep, "Whut's this I'm seein'?"

Grace turned at the sound of his voice. She couldn't help the relief she felt, vivid green eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "... I don't know?" she said coyly, full lips forming a pretty smile. "What do you see?"

"I see der's a lotta teal," he stopped in front o' her, takin a lean sah dat tha light o' tha fire was more behind him and shining at her instead of his eyes. His smile didn't give or weaken none as he observed her ad reached out, touchin' at tha hair and smilin', "Looks prettah sharp on yah, I gotta say. I'm taken with it." Fingers moved tah the side of her face and din he kissed her gently hello before righting himself.

Stepping into him when he came closer, Grace slipped both arms around her not king, her shawl serving to drape the both of them. Her head tipped back into his kiss, she made no move to separate herself from him when he stood up straight, just taking a moment to breathe in the scent of him. She hadn't yet read the shirt. "I was beginning to worry about you. Everything okay?"

"Jist tha usual. Sorrah tah keep you waiting." His arms closed around her when he felt her hands slip against him. He gaze her a squeeze til they was close together and then released, "I naht seen Levi or Quinn or anybody else here yet. I dun know if they got into somethin' or whut." Mark could tell they was announcing stuff for the festival, but there was a jumble of talking and his focus was on Grace at tha time.

Grace shook her head, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. "No need to be sorry. I was late, too." Confessing with a smile that would have been contrite had she not still beaten him here. Glancing around the crowd as she leaned into him, the little stylist shook her head. "You're the first person I saw who isn't a client."

"S'naht true. I got tah know you as a client sah... technically..." Mark smiled down at her, one hand moving up to twist a lock o' her hair betwen his fingers. Was still kinda a surprise whenever he looked at it. Like tha it had happened jist wouldn't sink intah his head. His attention slid about as he spoke, keeping fingerps pressed jist at her lower back, "Dey supposed ah serve some kinda drinks at this thin', I hear."

Grace grinned, recalling a particular memory involving a straight razor. A pretty giggle spilling from her lips, she tipped her head against his chest, resting her temple there a moment before she was peering up at him again, her brows risen, her wide green eyes dancing with amused delight. "...Mister Barlow, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Naht like... drunk drunk. But I was thinkin' we was adults and should have some fun," he admitted with a smile, lookin' about himself and din tah her, "I got my phone on silent and I'm naht gonna be pulled intah no kinda business til tha morning." Naht that he didn't have a few beers around tha fire on occasion, anyhow. Der were plenty of times dat people drank but Mark never really got stumbling. Truth was he didn't want to get stumblin', he jist was a bit nervous about tha collection o' strangers around them.