{"id":29777,"date":"2026-05-14T07:23:09","date_gmt":"2026-05-14T11:23:09","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2026-05-14T07:23:09","modified_gmt":"2026-05-14T11:23:09","slug":"event-1412","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/2026\/05\/14\/event-1412\/","title":{"rendered":"Yukino&#8217;s Tea Ceremony at the Beach Cabanas"},"content":{"rendered":"<style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2026-05-13 19:02<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008000\">               (<\/span>Yukino&#8217;s Tea Ceremony at the Beach Cabanas<span style=\"color:#008000\">)<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008080\">        [<\/span>Wed May 13 2026<span style=\"color:#008080\">]<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#fffdf4\">At <span style=\"color:#fffdf4\">New H<span style=\"color:#fff7da\">aven<span style=\"color:#faeab1\"> Beach<span style=\"color:#e5ba73\"> Caba<span style=\"color:#c58940\">nas\/span<\/span\/span><br \/><span style=\"color:#84cbeb\">Three elegant beach cabanas sit in a row on the sand, each crafted from<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#92d2ef\">smooth, sun-bleached wood with flowing white cloth panels that flutter<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#a3d7ef\">gently in the sea breeze. The fabric is tied at each corner in soft folds,<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#b6e0f3\">giving the cabanas a breezy, spa-like atmosphere that blends luxury with<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#c9e5f2\">coastal ease. Just beyond them lies an uninterrupted stretch of golden beach<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#c9e5f2\">leading straight to the endless blue ocean, where the waves roll in with a<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#c9e5f2\">rhythmic calm. At night, lanterns and candles are lit to provide a soft glow.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#fffdf4\">A neat line of pristine white lounge chairs and matching umbrellas sits<\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#fffdf4\">nearby, each arranged to face the water in perfect symmetry. Tanned,<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#fff7da\">muscular beach boys assist guests with setting up chairs and adjusting<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#faeab1\">umbrellas, their easy smiles and sun-kissed skin adding to the relaxed<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#e5ba73\">charm of the setting. Stylish beach staff dressed in breezy resort<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#c58940\">uniforms glide between loungers, handing out fresh towels and taking<\/span> <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#c58940\">orders for chilled cocktails and light seaside fare.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>It is <span style=\"color:#808000\">afternoon<\/span>, about <span style=\"color:#008080\">56<\/span>F(<span style=\"color:#008080\">13<\/span>C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey clouds.  The mist is heaviest <span style=\"color:#a6ceff\">A<span style=\"color:#a3ccf8\">t<span style=\"color:#a1cbf2\"> <span style=\"color:#9fc9eb\">M<span style=\"color:#9dc8e5\">a<span style=\"color:#9bc7de\">y<span style=\"color:#99c5d8\">f<span style=\"color:#96c4d2\">l<span style=\"color:#94c3cb\">o<span style=\"color:#91c1c5\">w<span style=\"color:#8fc0bf\">e<span style=\"color:#8cbfb9\">r<span style=\"color:#8abdb2\"> <span style=\"color:#87bcac\">a<span style=\"color:#84bba6\">n<span style=\"color:#82b9a0\">d<span style=\"color:#7fb89a\"> <span style=\"color:#7cb693\">S<span style=\"color:#79b58d\">i<span style=\"color:#76b487\">d<span style=\"color:#73b281\">n<span style=\"color:#70b17b\">e<span style=\"color:#6cb074\">y\/span<\/span\/span><\/p>\n<p>Without a word, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> simply nods respectfully and sit at the table with Yukino. He takes a breath, and a small smile creeps across his lips. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino folds the fukusa once along its length and draws it across the natsume with a slow, deliberate motion, then sets it aside. She lifts the chashaku and measures two scoops of matcha into the warmed chawan. The chasen follows. She draws it through the powder first without water, then adds the hot water in a thin stream and begins to whisk carefully. The motion is small and controlled, wrist only, until the surface shows a fine foam. She turns the chawan a quarter turn so the front faces away from herself and sets it before Sebastian with both hands. &#8220;Sir Fairchild. There is a question one had wanted to ask, if it would not be unwelcome.&#8221; She pauses, briefly. &#8220;What do we owe the places we live?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>A single crimson butterfly lands on the table nearby. Attentive, and watching. <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> pauses to think for several minutes, really taking his time, observing the butterfly. Finally, he answers. &#8220;We owe everything. Every experience of joy, of sorrow, the sustenance we get. Everything, that where we live, offers us, we owe it in return. We owe our home respect. Stewardship. Care. Love.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino listens to Sebastian&#8217;s answer without interrupting. When he finishes, she is quiet for a moment. Her eyes move briefly to the butterfly, then back. &#8220;One thinks sir Fairchild might understand something important, perhaps.&#8221; She lifts the chawan slightly toward him. &#8220;One might say it is where one once came from, consider all the difficulties we have held, and the companion at our side. When one might see of plum blossom fall&#8230;&#8221; Her eyes lower slightly. &#8220;Might sir Fairchild share with me what he might like the most about home? If it is not too forward.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The butterfly takes to the air, fluttering its way over to land near the testubin with the ceremony-grade matcha. <\/p>\n<p>Again, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> pauses to take his time before answering. &#8220;My home, by birth, is New Haven. But my true home, the place where I spent most of my time during my travels, the place which has influenced me, and which inspired my restaurant, is Italy. I consider Italy my true home. Their hospitality and passion.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino lifts her own chawan with both hands and drinks, slowly. She sets it down and considers, her eyes set on the butterfly near the tetsubin. &#8220;One might say that the tea asks nothing of us except to be present, perhaps.&#8221; She pauses, her eyes linger and then slowly travel to Sebastian, stay and then lower again. &#8220;It might a very forward thing to say, but one might consider all of one to belong to one&#8217;s home.&#8221; Her eyes briefly draw up again. &#8220;One might say&#8230; one&#8217;s faithfulness, how close we remain to those we might consider family, one might say to one&#8217;s sister, one thinks.&#8221; Her eyes carry on over the ocean in the distance. &#8220;Even if one might need to give all that might be given, it seems.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The butterfly takes off again, makes to circle once around Sebastian before keeping afloat in the air. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian glances to the butterfly. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looks out over the ocean, sipping his tea, and asks Yukino. &#8220;How about you, Miss Mikage? What is your favorite thing from your home?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino is quiet for long enough that the sounds of the waves overtakes. Her eyes stay on the ocean. &#8220;One might say&#8230; the snow, perhaps. In Kanazawa, it comes very heavy and very quiet. Everything becomes the same color and the city becomes very small.&#8221; A breath. &#8220;One might find her mother walking behind her in it, very slowly. She used to say that the one who walks slowly sees more flowers.&#8221; Her eyes lower. &#8220;One thinks she was right, it seems.&#8221; Her eyes stay lowered. &#8220;There are&#8230; many things. The plum blossoms, the gentle sound of a koto, the manner in which we have grown with the trees&#8230;&#8221; She looks down to the open palm of her hand. &#8220;&#8230; onee-san is working very hard, it seems&#8230;&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The crimson butterfly stays hovering in the air. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian watches Yukino as she speaks, asking. &#8220;Miss Mikage. You are wise beyond your years, as they say.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino looks up from her open palm. She blinks slowly and considers Sebastian and his words before saying, slowly, careful in pronouncing the words correctly. &#8220;One might say that some things take a very long time to learn, perhaps. And some things one might wish had taken longer, one wishes.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian furrows his brows at that, nodding in understanding. &#8220;Did I ever tell you why I left New Haven, Miss Mikage? Why I traveled the world for 20 years?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino shakes her head slightly, then catches herself and stills. &#8220;One might not have heard, perhaps. If sir Fairchild might wish to share, one thinks she might find herself listening very carefully.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The butterfly takes to the air and settles down close to Sebastian on the banquet table. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looks at the butterfly. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian says &#8220;<span style=\"color:#00afff\">Ok. <\/span>&#8220;<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian takes a deep breath. <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> looks out over the ocean. &#8220;When I was 16 years old, my girlfriend. We had known each other since we were small children. She was killed in a random drunk driving accident.&#8221; He pauses, then continues. &#8220;So. My world fell apart. I didn&#8217;t know what to do. The only thing, that I could possibly think, was to leave. So I did.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino is silent while Sebastian speaks. When he finishes, she does not rush to say anything. After a moment, she reaches for the tetsubin and pours a small measure of hot water, just to have something to do with her hands. &#8220;One might say&#8230; that sometimes the only direction that exists is away, it seems.&#8221; A pause. &#8220;One is sorry for what sir Fairchild carried&#8230;&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looks back at Yukino, saying. &#8220;Thank you. I&#8217;m ok now. But I know what you meant, when you said you wish some things might have taken longer.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino meets Sebastian&#8217;s eyes for a moment, then looks back to the ocean. She says nothing. After a while, she reaches for the gyokuro, pouring herself some of it. Her eyes lower, looking down at her tea. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;So, Miss Mikage.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> looks back out over the ocean, then back to Yukino. &#8220;What is the purpose of this tea ceremony? Please excuse my ignorance.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino looks up from her gyokuro when Sebastian asks. &#8220;One might say&#8230;&#8221; She considers. &#8220;The tea ceremony is sometimes about the tea, perhaps.&#8221; She takes a slow sip, then continues. &#8220;It might also be about what happens around it.&#8221; Her eyes lower again. &#8220;One guest, one meeting, one moment that cannot be repeated. In Japanese, one might call it&#8230; ichigo ichie.&#8221; A pause. &#8220;One chance encounter. One might say it asks that we are here, and that we leave having been there, perhaps.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looks at Yukino, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. &#8220;I see.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>After some moments, and another sip, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Yukino<\/span> tilts her head slightly. &#8220;One might wonder what sir Fairchild might have expected, perhaps. And what he might consider the purpose of such a ceremony to be, if that is not too forward to ask.&#8221; She asks, her eyes pulling up and drawing back to Sebastian. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looks closer into Yukino&#8217;s dark eyes, answering. &#8220;To be quite frank, I was not sure. I figured it has something to do with the great and wonderful Akachou. I also enjoy your company. You make me think.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>As the mist rises, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Yukino<\/span> is quiet for a moment. She glances around, here in familiar singular company. Her eyes then lower back to her gyokuro. &#8220;One might say that good company and the willingness to think are perhaps the finest reasons to attend anything, sir Fairchild.&#8221; A small pause. &#8220;One might lament&#8230;&#8221; She considers. &#8220;&#8230;the difficulty of it. But one thinks the ceremony might have been glad to have sir Fairchild, perhaps.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The butterfly rises up into the air again, and more draw from the shadows around until about a dozen flutter through the air. <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> shows no fear this time, welcoming in the face of thr butterflies. He mentions to Yukino. &#8220;They are beautiful, almost betond words, aren&#8217;t they?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino watches the crimson butterflies rise and multiply without expression when they gather to a dozen. Then, quietly, she says &#8220;One might say&#8230; a thing, perhaps.&#8221; Her eyes stay on them a moment longer before she reaches for the gyokuro to pour another cup. <\/p>\n<p>Striding across the sand, along with Maeve, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> looks a bit tired, a bit bloodied&#8230; but when he sees Yukino, he puts on a smile, calling &#8220;Yukino! Sorry I&#8217;m late.&#8221; Then, nodding to Sebastian. &#8220;Seb.&#8221; He then makes his way to the table, selecting a seat to pull out and sit, wincing slightly as a bit of blood drips down his side. <\/p>\n<p>About a dozen crimson butterflies occupy the air sparsely. <\/p>\n<p>With a pinch in her brow and phone in hand, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Maeve<\/span> is texting as she trails after Axle, looking up to give Yukino and Sebastian a soft smile. &#8220;Sorry, checking on Regaldo, might jet off to go snatch him out of the mist, figuring&#8230; it out,&#8221; words catching as her phone vibrates again. &#8220;Or&#8230; fuck that entirely,&#8221; she decides. Notably, her left ear is bleeding lightly, but she seems either unaware or unbothered, even as it drips onto her new, white dress. <\/p>\n<p>Seeming not to notice the newcomers, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Sebastian<\/span> is enraptured by the crimson butterflies, deep in thought. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino rises slightly when she sees Axle and Maeve approach, her eyes catching the blood. She decides to say nothing about it. Instead she reaches for two chawan, warms them quietly, and sets them before where they seat themselves. The gyokuro follows, and is poured with both hands, slowly. &#8220;One might say the ceremony is glad to have more company, it seems.&#8221; A pause, her eyes move briefly to Maeve. &#8220;One might also say&#8230; sir Regaldo might have been&#8230;&#8221; She tilts her head. &#8220;&#8230;brigh, perhaps.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Maeve dips her head in apology for the tardiness, a mumbled, &#8220;Minor possession, I got better,&#8221; in explanation, a glance at her phone, then she says quietly, &#8220;He&#8217;s got&#8230; a wyvern and friends guarding him, guessing by his words. Ax and could handle the wyvern, or the friends, not both.&#8221; Her eyes flit to the butterflies, and there&#8217;s a tiny smile, if tired, she gives them. <\/p>\n<p>The butterflies land in a single line on the middle of the banquet table. <\/p>\n<p>Accepting the tea with a gloved hand, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> nods. &#8220;Appreciated.&#8221; He mutters, lifting the drink to take a drink. &#8220;She&#8230; is she here? The&#8230; goddess, spirit?&#8221; He takes another sip, trying to hide the pale cast to his face. &#8220;Captain Hernandez&#8230; Regaldo. Is he alright? Need&#8230; help?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;If he&#8217;s still trapped in a bit, I&#8217;ll drop the mist by him,&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Maeve<\/span> murmurs to Axle, accepting her glass with a soft, &#8220;Thank you,&#8221; as she lifts it to sip. She sends another text, but doesn&#8217;t look happy about doing it, eyes tracing the line of butterflies once it&#8217;s sent. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian continues to observe the butterflies. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino glances at the butterflies along the table, them, then to Axle. &#8220;One might say&#8230; the air feels a little&#8230;&#8221; She looks away from them, glances at the receding mist. &#8220;&#8230;different tonight, perhaps? One might say, the spirits might listen sometimes, one thinks.&#8221; Her eyes lower to her tea, and then withdraws her phone, glances at it, then returns it. &#8220;If it might be alright to say&#8230;&#8221; She looks to Axle and then Maeve. &#8220;What might sir Axle and miss Maeve consider we to owe home?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The butterflies rise up again and make to gently sway around Axle. <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle&#8217;s<\/span> shoulders tense visibly as the butterflies surround him, but nonetheless, he answers. &#8220;To owe home&#8230; I say nothing. But, not sure what you mean by home. If its family&#8230; depends on how they made you. If its your people&#8230; depends on what they did for you. Side&#8230; I&#8217;d say not much.&#8221; He glances between Yukino and Maeve. &#8220;What do you mean about owing home though?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Home is not&#8230; a place, it&#8217;s a feeling,&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Maeve<\/span> states, her shoulder bumping into Axle&#8217;s arm, settled behside him as she is. &#8220;I&#8230; would do anything, at all, for those who turn a place into home. I think we owe our best, our aid, our love, to our home, when we find it. Not just those who share blood, but those who make it worth spilling it.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian shows some reaction, a small smile. Listening after all? <\/p>\n<p>Yukino listens to both answers. Her eyes lowers to her own tea cup. She looks thoughtful for second before she says &#8220;One might say&#8230;&#8221; She pauses, rising her eyes slowly to look at Axle &#8220;Sir Axle mentioned side. One thinks&#8230; the side might sometimes become the home, perhaps. The people one fights beside, the place one tends to, the ones who might arrive a little bloodied but arrive all the same.&#8221; Her eyes steer away, look to the dark hoirzon of the ocean. &#8220;One thinks New Haven might have become something, for some of us, one wishes.&#8221; And then. &#8220;Miss Maeve&#8230; might be&#8230;&#8221; She considers. &#8220;&#8230;right at home, perhaps.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The butterflies draw away from Axle and now make to circle around Maeve with one landing on the table before her. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;If that&#8217;s the case.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> says, eyes tracking the butterflies. &#8220;Then we owe our home all we got. Blood. Life. All of it in between the edges of it.&#8221; He looks down, staring into the tea. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian sips from his tea and he quietly listens. <\/p>\n<p>Maeve dips her head in greeting to the butterfly before her, and her gaze flicks up to Yukino, content, seemingly, as she says, &#8220;I&#8217;ve made friends, found someone I adore, I am&#8230; quite happy, here. But it would not be the same without you, without Ax, or Seb, or&#8230; Even Regaldo. But, I put my life entirely in the hands of those who make it worth trying.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino draws to her quiet again, for a moment. Her eyes lower to the butterfly before Maeve. Then, slowly, she reaches for the gyokuro and pours some more into Maeve&#8217;s cup with both hands. She says nothing until she is satisfied, or communicated that there is no want for more. &#8220;One might say&#8230; miss Maeve is very kind, one wishes.&#8221; Her eyes stay on the cup. &#8220;One thinks the ceremony might have been worth the difficulty, perhaps.&#8221; Her eyes trace back up, to Maeve, then to Axle and then to Sebastian before settling back on a butterfly. &#8220;One might say it can be&#8230;&#8221; She quietens, considers. &#8220;&#8230;like watching the first snow, and the plum blossoms bloom, if it is not too forward to say.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looks at Yukino when she mentions that, and nods. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Not sure what that might mean.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> admits, eyes falling to Yukino. &#8220;But&#8230; thanks for this. Sorry we were a bit late.&#8221; He pauses. Winces. &#8220;A lot late, that&#8217;d be.&#8221; He looks back to the butterflies, and takes another long draft from his tea. <\/p>\n<p>Maeve accepts the tea with a little silly smile, all sorts of warm fuzzies pouring off of her. &#8220;I think that&#8217;s&#8230; comfort?&#8221; she guesses, by context. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino makes a small dip of her head to Axle then looks at Maeve. &#8220;One might say&#8230; it is a little like comfort, miss Maeve.&#8221; She lifts her own gyokuro with both hands and drinks the last of it. She sets it down carefully. &#8220;One thinks the ceremony can be complete now, perhaps.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Finishing the last of his glass, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> sets it down. &#8220;Appreciate you getting this together.&#8221; He comments to Yukino. &#8220;We&#8217;ll&#8230; have more people soon for ceremonies. Won&#8217;t be just&#8230; us four.&#8221; He offers a reassuring smile, though it doesn&#8217;t quite reach his eyes. <\/p>\n<p>Axle jumps in his seat, eyes snapping to the side. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian snaps his eyes to Axle. <\/p>\n<p>Maeve slips her hand in Axle&#8217;s, glancing to the butterflies as she squeezes tightly. <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle&#8217;s<\/span> eyes narrow, though his shoulders, tensed before, do relax when Maeve takes his hand. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino gives a blank look at Axle when he jumps. Her eyes lower, then glance up to the butterfly. The blank look stays on them, too. She turns away, looks down to her cup. After a moment, she rises to her feet. &#8220;One might say&#8230; Butterflies can be a little&#8230; like vampires, if it is alright to say.&#8221; Her eyes stay on her cup. <\/p>\n<p>The butterflies rise into the air again, this time above everyone. Some of them start to fluttery away into the darkness along the shore. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian watches the butterflies. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;A little.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> nods, making to rise himself. &#8220;Yukino&#8230;&#8221; He trails off, eyes falling, before rising again. &#8220;I&#8217;ll, talk to you about it some time later. Tonight&#8230; not the time.&#8221; He nods, finishing his stand, before pausing to wait, watching Maeve. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian furrows his brows at Axle. <\/p>\n<p>Maeve gives the same look to Axle as Sebastian is, but she rises as he does, reflexively. She finishes her glass, and settles it on the table. &#8220;Near past your bedtime, my love,&#8221; she comments, as she looks to the clock. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Bed time.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> scoffs, glancing toward the clock tower in the distance. &#8220;Its just a time I like to get to sleep by, not some damn bed time.&#8221; He turns, this time to study where the mist had shrouded the street. &#8220;Should probably see how Regaldo is&#8230;&#8221; He mutters, glancing back to Maeve. &#8220;He still caught up?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino takes a step back. Her hands fold over the hem of her dress, where the moonlight starts to flower along her dress. She dips her head to Sebastian, Axle and Maeve, then glances up as the butterflies drift away along the shore. &#8220;One might say the ceremony is grateful for everyone who came, it seems.&#8221; She begins to quietly collect the chawan from the table, both hands, one at a time. <\/p>\n<p>Sebastian says &#8220;<span style=\"color:#00afff\">Thank you, Miss Mikage.<\/span>&#8220;<\/p>\n<p>Turning, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> moves to assist Yukino however he&#8217;s able in gathering the settings. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Thank you for having us, Yukino, you&#8217;re a blessing to this home,&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Maeve<\/span> says, warmly, before tilting a look up to Axle. &#8220;Wyvern, ghoulie, and two other friends have him locked down. I told him I&#8217;d light up my&#8230; y&#8217;know, heal him up some, later. He said as long as you&#8217;re fine with it.&#8221; She rolls her eyes. <br \/><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Date: 2026-05-13 19:02 (Yukino&#8217;s Tea Ceremony at the Beach Cabanas) [Wed May 13 2026] At New Haven Beach Cabanas\/spanThree elegant beach cabanas sit in a row on the sand, each crafted from smooth, sun-bleached wood with flowing white cloth panels that flutter gently in the&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[133],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-29777","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-calendarlog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29777","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=29777"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29777\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29777"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29777"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29777"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}