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I fear conventional weaponry may not solve this problem, hence my trouble. But social lives are on the line -- dear friends' social lives.
You didn't happen upon the latest Majority Report, did you?

I haven't read them since they ran some pretty insulting things about me a while back.

[ read: he reads them every two weeks, but he needs to sit down and work up the courage to do it every time. he hadn't gone through that ritual yet, but. lucina's in peril! he charges ahead, catches up, and-- ]

Oh.

[ hm. he's no stranger to this kind of attention, either. hm. Hm. ]

I...

I like Darin.
I'm happy for the both of you.
Congratulations on your strong and powerful relationship.

hg;j

[sNAPPING OVER TO VOICE:] WE ARE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP!! It's FALSE! That's the problem! That's what I'm calling about!! Do you understand me?! We. Are not! DATING!!!

[huff!!!

ok. OK!! calm down.

cALMER:] That's--that's why I need your help. I don't know how to fix this! Disprove it! There are--circumstances in play that prevent Darin from addressing this himself, and, and he's being targeted by ridiculous people in my name!

Owain, please...help!

[ -- WEL L,,

OKAY,, ,, L ET HIM THINK. LET HIM THINK. GIVE HIM A SECOND ]

Have I ever told you...

[ deep breath. ]

Have I ever spun for you the tale of a certain young gentleman - tall in stature, strong of heart, renowned world-wide for his charm and his beauty - named... George Glass?

[?? ? ? ?? ?

trying to stifle her anxious impatience:] N...No? Who is that? Someone I should ask?

No, he's-- so, okay. So.

There once was a young man. George Glass. He was popular, charming, funny; he wore his wit on his sleeve, and those who knew him thanked the stars each day for the blessing of his friendship. Fortune favoured those he called confidants! He was a bright sun in a sea of otherwise monotonous darkness. Beautiful and fashionable and charming.

George was quite fond of one particular young woman - a middle-child, oppressed and held down by the thumb of her tyrannical older sister, made a fool of by her peers on a constant, day-to-day basis. She struggled, trying to find confidence in her appearance, desperate to locate her place in the world. When she and George started dating, well... the whole world looked at her differently. They were impressed. Stunned, to believe that someone so effervescent and so glamorous would tread the mud of Jan Brady's waters.

[ he pauses. did that sound gross? that might've sounded gross. also, he misses watching 90s movies with magnus chase. he takes a second to mentally pour one out for his departed buddy. ]

Anyway.

George Glass wasn't real. He never was. He was a tool, crafted and honed by Jan Brady to secure a stronger position in her family's and her high school's hierarchy. Kind of stopped mattering when her nose got all busted up, but.

Do you... understand what you need to do?

...

...???

...

Ah-!!

...N-no, wait. [...] How would getting punched in the nose fix this matter?

Okay, well, first of all, she wasn't punched. She had her ass deftly and promptly handed to her by a stray and mephistophelian football. For playing the football games with. The games of football that people play.

[ What Is Football ]

Secondly -

I'm saying that nothing can change your public image faster than a fake relationship. I would know. I've already done it.

[ -- wait he should've just talked about Kay and the resolution to Import My Heart, not gone on a big fucking spiral about some film from earth. you know what? doesn't matter. again, he presses on. ]

Make your own George Glass. My name's Lucina, Noble Hero of Ylisse, and I can't date Darin! I'm already dating someone else, who goes to another school! In Earth Canada!

[........]

M...My own George Glass? Fake relationship? [oh no. this is very out of her element.] Owain, a-are you sure? I've never dealt with or done anything of the sort before!

[ oh, that's true. lucina might be theatrical and capable of deceit when she has a sword in her hands, but that's just in the nature of being a heroic warrior princess with a raging bloodline, like him. the bloodline part, not the princess part. well, he's worn a few dresses, but that's neither here nor there. ]

You do lack a certain... thespian flair. No offence. It might be difficult for you to lie so abruptly on your own. I could sit down with you, maybe help you make a backstory for your secret lover - give you some lines to memorize, so you'll always be able to field any questions people might have about them... or...

[ or. ]

You could ask one of your friends for assistance? "Pretend that you and I are madly in love, even though we're not!". That way, you'll always have someone to work off of, and that's a big key to successfully improvving improv. A few candid photos with you and a friend will probably be enough to convince your fans to get off of Darin's trail.

Gods, that-- [it's all just one big, imposing yikes after another, isn't it? didn't she already tell herself she was going to cut it out with thinking about romance outright? before it caused more trouble?

like this kind of trouble??

the very prospect of asking a friend is...is not great. most are far older -- Darin's too old for her anyway so she has no idea why this blew up the way it did gods damnit! -- and those that are within range?

...erh.

well, that--

no.

NOPE.]

If...i-if this is truly the best means of putting an end to this madness, then...then I must. [think of poor Allura. of Darin's defaced forge. think of her own poor mailbox at HQ.

she exhales, easing herself into the resolve of a veteran warrior, preparing for their final battle.]

But you're right. I've got no skill with theatrics. [not on purpose.

beat.]

Owain... Would you...help me?

[ there comes a time in every owain's period of ten minutes, where he'll throw his eye into shadow under the mysterious shade of his screaming hand. this is that ten minute period. ]

Well, I don't think anyone would believe that I'm your boyfriend. We're related, for starters. I'm also in a very public relationship, and I'm twenty-four years old. But sure! Anything for you. I've got a few wigs around here, somewhere - and there's this rare and illusory art I've been studying up on referred to only in whispered and hushed tones under the harsh lighting of Heropa's mall's makeup department. It's called contouring. I could probably make myself look like a whole new person, if I'm skilled enough at practicing that particular mystic art.

[ dot dot dot. ]

Oh, wait. Do you mean - you want my help coming up with an imaginary backstory for imaginary fake George Glass?

Lucina.

I will absolutely do this with you.

[she's still kind of terrified at the prospect of this whole venture? because she'd rather fight dragons than do this?? but.

but Owain's here. and he's never led her astray. no, in fact, he's always been a kind of strength beyond her strength -- giving her greater reach, the means to pull through the most dire of straits...

and in this, too, he's vowed to lend his strength again. to a cause so unlike the ending of the world.

she truly doesn't deserve him.

choked up:] Owain... Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you, always supporting me...

I'm going to put my fate in your hands. You're the general of this campaign, full-stop. I'm ready to fight!

[ Owain - Owain feels teary. He needs a second. ]

We'll get through this together. We'll save Darin from the horrible clutches of those who, while intelligent enough to appreciate you for the true vision of power and nobility that you are, have proven themselves to be misguided in how they express themselves.

[ but now's not the time to encourage each other. now's not the time to find their strength, now's the time to draw from it. now's the time to act. owain gets to work. ]

Okay, so - first thing's first. We need to give this person a core. See, on one hand, nobody would ever believe that you're in a relationship with someone who isn't truly, deeply special - but on the other hand, there's nobody in this world, imaginary or otherwise, who is truly and deeply special enough to date you. We need to give Monsoir or Mistress Glass something that only they can give you, because then it will make sense to all your perceptive and intelligent fans that you're lowering yourself to their level. And so, my proposition is this:

[ DEEP BREATH. ]

You're courting the Prince of Canada. As a representative of Ylisse, you've come to try and forge a bond between our home nation and theirs. You're pledging Ylisse's allegiance with Canada, should the porter ever allow us home with our memories. A political relationship makes far more sense than the idea that there's someone actually good enough for you out there.

[there's some hesitation on this end, some fidgeting -- should she find pen and paper? take notes??

she stops short.]

A...a political arrangement? That's... [...] That's not bad at all. It makes sense, right? I'd offer the same good will regardless, but this makes it much more...formal, yes?

[wait.]

...Canada has a prince?

[ there's no need to take notes. the wild scritching and scratching from the other end of the line shows that owain's writing all of this down. and more. wow, a lot more. write, write, write. ]

I'm sure it...

[ he stops writing. does it? does canada have... hm. Hm. ]

I mean, everywhere has a prince. Or a princess. That's what the Ambassadors are, right? Rooty's the Deputy Princess of Maurtia Falls.

[a long beat.

his logic is pretty sound, she thinks? princesses and princes often act as ambassadors in their liege parent's stead -- that's what her father did for Aunt Emmeryn!]

...No, you're right. You're right. That makes sense. Titles are a bit strange here, but they still exist. We'll go with that.

[yes. good.

wait.]

...But if I'm making this public statement, and the actual Prince of Canada gets wind of it, what then? M-maybe we should concoct pure fiction, as opposed to tying it so closely to a real person, otherwise this becomes an even thicker web of falsehoods!

[ This is an incredibly excellent point from Lucina. Owain nods. Makes a few scholarly sounds. Hm hm hm hm. ]

We... could...

[ okay, hold on, get ready to be blown away. ]

Make up... a country?

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