Field Research | Yasmin

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The rhythmic beats of ancient drums echoed through the foothills as the night sky shimmered with a tapestry of stars. Among the crowd gathered for the traditional Druid music performance, Marcello found himself immersed in the enchanting atmosphere. He was here not merely as an audience member but as a researcher, eager to soak up the essence of this ancient tradition for an upcoming audition.

He stood on the outskirts of the gathering, wearing a hooded robe in an attempt to remain anonymous. In ordinary situations, he welcomed the attention of awestruck fans and the feeding of his ego that being recognised in public gave him. But tonight, he was at work. The upcoming role that he was preparing for would be the first serious acting role he would have the opportunity of snagging if he did it right. It was all good being in trashy daytime soaps and teen romcoms, but Marcello was desperate to step into the next stage of his career, so his focus was on point tonight at the Calan Mai festival.

In his pocket, he carried a small leather-bound journal, its blank pages eager to be filled with his observations and insights. He took out a quill and with steady hands began jotting down his impressions - the way the druids moved, their expressions of reverence and connection, the hidden meanings behind the melodies they conjured. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as the haunting melody of flutes and harps intertwined, casting a spell of enchantment upon the gathered crowd. His mind whirled with inspiration as his eyes darted from one performer to another, his gaze capturing every nuance and every emotion that emanated from their performance.

YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED

[YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED]

It was hardly a difficult decision to make for Yas to come to the Calan Mai festivities. Though she'd never been particularly academic, Yas was a gifted artist, and with that gift came the desire to learn more about her trade. The opportunity to engage with Druids wasn't something that Yas could pass up, especially when she'd never gotten the chance to visit their home land. She knew that druids were more in touch with Earth magic, and therefore could evoke different sorts of paintings. She wondered if they would share their knowledge with her. And after all, Yas didn't mind a little party.

Yas first stopped by the druid winery to sample some of the local fares. Her head grew a little bit fuzzy very quickly, but Merlin was it delicious. She hoped that the fuzziness was just a side effect, and not Allah cursing her for drinking from a pagan's cask. With a shrug, Yas decided that when she returned home she'd join Yara for prayers to cleanse her spirit. That ought to do, right?

Yas' attention was caught almost at once by the rhythmic moving of the dancers on the stage. As if by an invisible string, she was drawn towards them, her fingers itching to try to capture the fluidity with which they moved. She perched on a bench, next to a young man despite the plethora of many seats, still clutching her glass of druid wine, her eyes glazed like she was in a trance. As soon as the song ended, Yas shook her head slightly and turned to the man beside her, chagrined. "That was incredible, wasn't it?" she asked him in hushed tones, taking another drink.

@marcello

[Deleted]

Lost in his observations and the scribbling of his thoughts in his journal, Marcello was momentarily unaware of the presence beside him. Her voice, soft and filled with awe broke through his concentration. He turned his head towards her with a slight startle, his focus shifting from the performance stage to her. Marcello's eyes widened slightly as he registered her words, a genuine smile gracing his lips.

"Oh! Yes, absolutely extraordinary," he replied in a thick Italian accent as he finally acknowledged her. He took a moment to study her face, her features illuminated by the ethereal glow of the festival lights and he wondered if she knew who he was when she decided to sit next to him of all people. Afterall, the actor had promised himself to stay on track tonight - no partying - but he was perpetually inclined to get easily distracted in the presence of beautiful young women paying him attention, so this was not going to sound good if he went back to his agent and reported that he hadn't gotten much done in the way of groundwork.

“And how about their wine?” Marcello asked, nodding at the glass she held in her hand as he playfully questioned its quality in comparison to the music. He glanced down at his leather-bound journal and quill, noting that he was voluntarily neglecting his research in favour of the spectacle before him. Damn it.

YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED

[YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED]

Yara had always been the more devout daughter. Yas had never really kept up with her religious studies and frequently forgot to pray, despite Yara's incessant reminders. Yas did not tell Yara that she would be attending a magical pagan festival, despite knowing that Yara would be interested by it. She thought... well, Yas thought maybe it would be a bit much for her sister. To not have magic and to celebrate with those who didn't see Allah as the one true Lord was a lot.

Damning herself to hell properly, Yas took a deep drink of the druid brewed mead, sending fluttery buzzes through her body. She sat herself down in a seat to watch some dancers, fascinated by the way they interpreted the world around them through movement. Yas wondered if she could capture this moment, to set it to paints and canvas, to write a story of her own and assess the world around her through her own medium. And when the music drew to a close, Yas snapped from a trance she didn't know she'd entered. She realised she was sat very close to another man - rather handsome at that. And... did he look familiar?

Yas commented blithely on the performance, and he responded in kind, his voice rich and heavily accented. Yas had lost her own Egyptian accent after spending so many years in Britain, she she found herself missing it now. A soft smile curved at Yas' lips. "The wine is also incredible. Would you like to try some?" asked Yas, offering her glass to him for a taste.

@marcello

[Deleted]

As the woman offered him a taste of the druid wine, Marcello's intrigue deepened. He was caught between the allure of her invitation and the commitment to his research. Nevertheless, the festival atmosphere seemed to have a way of coaxing out his more adventurous side.

His lips pressed together in a lopsided grin that implied that he was tempted, but that he probably shouldn’t partake. Then after a moment of what seemed like an internal battle with himself, he let his body relax into a defeated shrug. "Ah, why not?" Marcello said, with a playful glint in his eyes, accepting the glass from her. He took a small sip, savouring the unique flavours that danced on his tongue. The wine had a distinct charm to it and he appreciated the novelty of the experience.

"It's very good," he remarked with an affirming nod, returning the glass to her.

YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED

[YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED]

It was not unusual for Yas to be overly friendly. More often than not, she had only the most innocent of intentions, but her mind was fuzzy and she was pleasantly warm now. He offered Yas a lopsided grin that spoke of forbidden temptation, before shrugging and taking the proffered glass. Yas watched as he took a sip, taking the goblet back and having another drink herself. ”Yes, there’s something about wine made by the hands of something not quite the same as us that has such an effect,” said Yas, babbling more than anything.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, there was a flicker of recognition in her gaze. ”Er… do I know you? From another time?” asked Yas at last, before taking another sip of her drink.


@marcello

[Deleted]

Marcello couldn't help but find the woman’s innocent and friendly demeanour endearing, especially in the midst of the enchanting festival atmosphere. He chuckled softly at her comment about the druid wine, appreciating her candour.

As her eyes narrowed, Marcello could sense her attempting to recall if they had crossed paths before. A knowing smile crept onto his lips. It wasn’t unusual for him to be recognised out and about - that was why he had chosen to sit on the outskirts of the crowd, lest he be bombarded with adoring fans and women throwing themselves at him while he was trying to research for his next audition.

“A different time? I don’t believe so. A different place, perhaps.” Marcello gave a wink delivered alongside the cryptic response. “My name is Marcello,” he offered a hand in introduction, maybe exposing his identity would jog her memory if the druid wine hadn’t already done away with it.

YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED