Macglynn has an obvious madness about him, and as Senkha approaches, he turns quickly back to face the manor and trods across the bridge. Good day, Eddy.
Senkha doesn't speak at all, the same madness about her, as it has been for the past two days. She keeps behind Oliver, breath heavy and measured like a creature waiting to prey on something.
Macglynn 's pace is quick but even. A gargoyle lands on the rooftop and shrieks as they approach, signaling the presence of their target.
Senkha snarls.
Macglynn kicks in the door! Dust rains down on the two of them, but he doesn't even blink. He doesn't need to.
Senkha has a mask on. Blinking is totally optional.
Bordros yells: Disciples, I request a certain novel: Biography... You know the one.
Senkha frowns at the odd crackling between her and Oliver, as if the connection has gone bad. She shakes her head a few times, trying to clear it, but to no avail. She looks at him and shrugs, then snarls as she hears the voice.
Macglynn doesn't seem to mind the absence of his communication. He's heard the voice; his target is confirmed. He draws his blade and charges forward, toward the source of the voice.
Bordros yells: If I find geist spittle on the cover once more, I'll have each of your decrepit heads! You hear?
Macglynn looks at Bordros.
Senkha follows, slipping into the shadows once the target is acquired. She does, however, laugh softly as she does this. Here we go.
Bordros yells: Anita?
Oliver leaps over the edge, bullrushing Edwin the moment he sets a sight on him. Stupid? By most logical accounts, yes.
Senkha remains in the shadows, prefering the subtle route, but before long, she is behind Edwin, daggers drawn to catch him if he falls.
Bordros heard the not-so silent running of plate boots, flicking a Death Gate behind Dizzy and the rotting aberation, as he was rushed, he attempted to powerhug her into the gate, to lead them to another room of the manor.
Ariadine lets out a panicked squeal as she is shoved into the gate her scream cut off by the teleportation.
Bordros yells: You'll have to do better than that, Slackjaw!
Senkha snarls in frustration as they disappear, her snarl sounding something like "I fucking -HATE- Death Gates." She glances to Oliver, looking around at their new friends and aggravated at not being able to communicate with him silently.
As Edwin departed from the room, geists sprang from the ceiling, quickly circling the pair.
Macglynn is entirely silent as she's once again ported from his grasp, the only sound the sharp clang of his blade against the stone floor. A geist jumps his back, and he's quick to twist and fall back, landing on his side and impaling it with a shoulder spike.
Bordros yells: You know, you really shouldn't interrupt -family- business! Uninvited guests are -not- welcome in my manor!
Senkha pulls a trio of boomerang-shaped, blessed daggers from her belt and throws them in an arc, attempting to catch as many geists as she can with them.
The remaining geists were felled, the gate to the next room opening.
Senkha continues onward, stopping to pick up her daggers.
Bordros yells: Come forth, Blightreaver and wench. My daughter awaits your -attempts-!
Oliver raises a hand and the mutilated corpses of the geists rise to his command. They're even less intelligent than they'd usually be, but it's meat to throw. His eyes widen and the remnants of his lips twist into a grin. He loves games.
Projection Eddy claps his hands, the bones in the room forming to skeletal monsters, them forming a phalanx in the room, "You'd be wise to hurry it up, I grow bored."
Senkha looks unimpressed, though she stands by Oliver--Blightreaver, at this point, really--letting him control the geists. The undead are not her target tonight; she couldn't care less what happens to them.
Bordros yells: How much longer do you have left... You aren't taking my daughter from me.... NOT -AGAIN-!
Oliver is a completionist at heart, and enough drops of water will fill a bucket. He focuses on the undead, not wanting them in his way. His eyes brighten and a blast of frost pulses from him, hopefully freezing the construct.
Dizzy looks up to Bordros, a faint smile playing across her lips. "...Told you."
"Anita... The captured hicks will be your next -lesson-... And I'm not allowing you to hold back." he leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
Dizzy ducks the kiss, a cold look of pure hatred replaces the smug and childish smile.
Edwin ruffled her hair, being all tall and british-deader-ey.
Bordros yells: You know... A woman came by last night, is this the fodder your throw at me?
Senkha hangs back with some irritation, not wanting to get caught in the pulse of frost at the construct. If the pulse hit, however, she would charge forward to hit the construct at any weak point it might have. She doesn't seem to be hearing Edwin's voice in the least. She's far past goading.
The phalanx was infact frozen, making the weak points easily strikeable. Most likely shattering them to bits.
Dizzy slowly begins to edge behind Bordros.
Edwin smiled cockily, he's too dern snooty to notice!
Senkha pulls her daggers from the shattered phalanx with a snarl then stands and begins to advance silently, dangerously, on where she sees the two of them in front of her.
Bordros yells: Good show.
Bordros yells: Well go on, strike me!
Oliver runs a circle around the side of the room, attempting to surround them between Senkha and himself. There are many bones in this room, much to his delight, and as he passes them they rise, clattering together to form skeletal minions.
Senkha continues to advance slowly, finally breaking into a run as the distance between them grows smaller. She leaps!...
Phantasmal-Eddy peers to Oliver, clapping unimpressidly and yawning. Edwin smiled, the images would fade for a moment as Senkha ran through them, reforming. Edwin laughing all the more obnoxiously.
...and falls to the ground, daggers catching in the stone, a snarl in her throat. She looks up to Oliver, silently, not even hearing the laughter but glancing at the side doors. Which way...?
Bordros says: ...You really -are- quite simple. Woi would I give you the -prize- of my presence so easily?
The steel doors clanked open, "Do go and -attempt- at finding me." the images faded, them likely going to another room to be all hologram-like.
Oliver halts. Okay, illusions. He also looks pretty unimpressed and runs forward, the skeletal constructs and straggling geist-ghoul shambling behind him.
Senkha stops when she sees the two of them in front of her. Not going to leap at air again, she looks at the skeletal constructs and geist ghoul. Send them in first, she seems to say without saying.
Bordros yells: So pitiful... You risk -so- much for -my- child.
Loathe to take an order from her, Oliver sends the constructs in anyway.
Necromancers poured from the various doors in the room, the hoods veiling their faces and each had a skeletal minion to call their own.
The necromancers scowl, flinging Death Coils and all matter of spells at Oliver's 'army', whilst their constructs went in for the more 'up close and personal' approach.
Oliver seems particularly happy about this, because fighting the living is so much easier than fighting the dead. Something jabs at the minds of anything nearby, like a pickaxe slowly working into a rock wall. A sharp sound.
Senkha should probably know better than to make suggestions by now. She crouches and leaps to grab the wood beams of the ceiling, holding herself above the constructs before swinging down behind one of the necromancers and slitting his throat. She laughs delightedly and disappears into the shadows in a puff of smoke to give the next necromancer the same treatment.
The necromancers react instantly, fumbling to the ground and covering their ears. Senkha would make quick work of the next poor sap, him too occupied with doing such.
The sharp sound grows in strength and he crouches. Let them come.
Senkha seems immune to the sound, moving on to her third and fourth targets, still laughing with delight as their blood spatters across the floor in very stylish patterns. She should be an interior designer.
The necromancers slain, the abberations just sift into bone, crumbling to the ground.
Bordros yells: You're so... Persistent. Fine, meet me in my quarters.
The images faded.
Oliver's usefulness is limited here; she with light-blessed blades, and he only with plague. These are the words he's awaited and he takes off, his constructs running first. A wave of unholy energy bursts from him as he runs, knocking back anything that would dare try to stand in his way.
Bordros yells: ...'Ello.
Edwin would flick his wrist, attempting to send Dizzy to a chained-off section of the room, via Death Gate, of course.
Dizzy withdraws the scalpel she has kept in her sleeve all day and silently moves behind Bordros.
Oliver runs forward. Not always the best of plans, but he's not really the best of minds, so it's okay. He sends out a Death Grip, trying to pull Eddy away from Dizzy so she doesn't become collateral damage of what's about to happen.
It's hard to tell if Dizzy is flushed with excitement or fever. The small girl looks exhausted and ill. Seeing the book that everyone has spoken of she lets out a strangled cry and tries to shove the scalpel into the center of the book.
Senkha follows Oliver and the constructs, though her approach is more strategic and cautious. As they reach the chamber, she slips into the shadows.
Dizzy was pushed aside! GAME OVER MAN, GAME OVER.
Edwin is grip'd! As he ascended upon Oliver, he attempted to lay a spiked shoulder into his cranium, positioning himself as he soared.
Dizzy drops to her knees, the last of her energy spent on the attempted book-shanking. Letting out a tired sigh she falls to her side and she slips into unconsciousness.
Oliver twists his shoulder to block one spike with another. The left spikes crumple in like foil on the impact, but his head is safe. The shriek is constant now, like a mosquito in one's ear, picking, picking, picking at anyone's thoughts, held back only by the smartly-placed wards.
Oliver is pushed to the ground by the momentum, but doesn't let himself fall without trying to bring a plated elbow into Eddy's temple.
Senkha, still unphased by the constant mosquito shriek, appears from the shadows behind Edwin, giving a soft, wicked laugh. One blessed throwing dagger she attempts to drive into the base of his skull before disappearing again.
Edwin was stabbed! Her received the elbow, his jaw cracking unnaturely. He attempted to open a gate -under- Oliver, opening it on the ceiling. If this would work, he'd attempt to use Oliver as a deader landing pad to the cobble below.
Dizzy shudders as the sound of the shrieking even slightly awakens her. Curling up into a ball she rocks back and forth slightly and covers her ears. She's not so sure of what is nightmare and reality anymore.
Oliver falls through, and lands again on the stairs with a sharp crack issuing from both his body and armor. He makes something of a snarling sound and the shrill noise grows even louder and more painful, like claws. He grips Edwin by the hair and attempts to smash his head into the stairs.
Edwin is smashed, roaring and snarling under Oliver's grip, he attempted to pull away from this... And lose quite the chunk of his GLORIOUS HAIR!
Senkha's had this noise in her head the past three days and has boned it in the past, so...whatever. She appears from the shadows again, landing on her knees on Edwin's back, knives drawn. She attempts to drive them into his neck, still laughing.
Dizzy lets out a wail as the shrieking intensifies along with the manic laughter.
Edwin's hair is pulled away, the not-so-healthy strands easily being ripped from the rotting head, he flung his arms back, writhing and wailing, "This shan't be your day!" his voice slobbery, he attempted to grip Senkha's hands by moving his arms awkwardly behind his back before this could occur, hopefully.
Senkha seems to shudder somewhat at the sound of Dizzy's wail, bringing her daggers up from trying to decapitate the monster before he even begins to flail. She tries to step on his head as she turns around and walks down the steps towards Dizzy.
Oliver tosses the handful of glorious British hair to the side. He picks up his blade, having dropped it in the fall.
Senkha kneels beside Dizzy, though she doesn't remove her mask because Light only knows what's going to happen if she does that. She reaches for Dizzy, her voice coming out weak and croaky. "Mah--Monkey. Baby. Momma's here."
Dizzy shivers and shakes, her wailing intensified. In a full out delirium the sounds of battle, laughter, screams, and shrieking finally breaking her. She thrashes wildly in Senkhas arms, sobbing. "'Nother dream! 'Nother dream!"
Senkha just holds tightly to Dizzy, closing her eyes. She tries to reach out her mind towards Dizzy, fighting against the painful wards to do so. "Not a dream. Not a dream, Monkey. I'm here. I'm taking you home."
Ariadine 's thrashing lessens as Senkha tries to calm her. The girl wraps her arms around her mother and her screams calm.
Senkha holds Dizzy as tightly as she can, glancing back towards Oliver and Edwin, her eyes lighting on the book. She looks around, trying to find some way to get at that book without letting go of her daughter. The way she's holding on, it seems she never intends to let go again.
Macglynn seems to be temporarily brought to a right state of mind by the sound of his daughter's screams. He looks past Eddy and right to her, but the name-- this time he answers his name, and he looks up at Eddy with a smile that could only be described as "demented". He moves as though he's laughing, but there's no sound. Not out loud. The shriek continues to pick against the wards, turning into the familiar metal-on-metal grind straight into the thoughs of anyone nearby.
Ariadine shudders at the returning sounds and hangs onto Senkha as tight as possible.
Bordros hands did not go to his ears as he heard this, but to his tome. He hobbled awkwardly down the stairs, almost sobbing, "...Ch-....Ch-..." he collapsed to his knees, a thick, black liquid pouring from under his mask.
Senkha once again screws her eyes shut under her mask, focusing hard on working through the wards to shield her mind. As she hears Edwin's choked sounds, she looks back at Oliver again, opening her eyes just barely. "Get-the-book," she says through gritted teeth before resuming her efforts, obviously putting herself in a lot of pain to do so.
Macglynn stands. He's been injured, this much is clear from the matte black substance that drips from his body onto the stairs.
Macglynn looks at Bordros.
Macglynn smiles at Bordros.
Bordros just laughed, "You know... Never thought it'd end this way... -Here-." he chortled, "I suppose you'll have my daughter... Heh... Heh." his tome glowed brightly, him placing his hand to the ground, almost slipping in a pool of blackened blood... His own ichor.
Macglynn doesn't allow this. Not for a second. He rushes him again with his good shoulder, one hand lifted. The air is humid here, to his luck, and the moisture gathers around his hand to form a dagger of ice, which he tries to bring down on the book before it does... whatever it's doing, yo.
The dagger goes cleanly into the book... Though, it didn't feel like pages. It felt like skin. Edwin -screamed-, falling to the ground and clutching where his heart would be. His ghastly white hair began to reform to it's living, raven hue. The dim glow from his eyes fading, the body flopping to the side, "...And so... The book dies before the writer." his head fell against the stone... Dead.
The blackened ichor made a -pool- of blood around Edwin's character, his dying features looking -young-.
Senkha gives a soft, satisfied laugh as she sees Edwin fall still, the glow from his eyes fading. Her gaze then turns to Oliver; she is still wearing her mask, but there's an aura of expectation about her.
Macglynn twists the dagger in the book until the ice has melted in the heat of the underground. He tears the tome from its chains and proceeds to shred it with his hands.
The tome is shredded! Voices seeping through as Oliver did so, "...Free at last. Finally... A fitting grave for the old, withered prick."
Senkha holds Dizzy more tightly against her, still giving Oliver a look of expectation. After a few moments, she speaks, rasping: "Bl-- love. You're hurting -her-."
Macglynn throws the remains down and turns up the stairs. His cloak probably does that awesome fwooshy thing. A blight seeps up from the cracks of the floor, eating away at what remained of the body's flesh. There's a final, sharp, jarring metallic screech, and then silence as he leaves.
Senkha exhales slowly, no longer trying to ward Dizzy's mind, the pain in her own mind leaving. She's not going to even bother trying to heal in here, but simply stands, lifting Dizzy with her as if the child weighs nothing. "See, Monkey? It's time to go home."
Senkha pauses at the top of the stairs.
Ariadine smiles faintly before slipping into a slightly more peaceful fevered slumber.
Senkha leans hard against one of the braziers until it falls over, sending fire to the ground below. FWOOM!
Senkha says: Capital.
Senkha stops once they're outside the manor, exhaling in relief as the wards let go of her mind and her mental pings no longer hurt like hell. She frowns not to see Oliver, because he is the best psychopath husband, then kneels, laying Dizzy on the ground.
Senkha says: --should try to get you a little less...unwell before we go home.
To Macglynn: *Coming through loud and clear! "Where are you."*
Senkha removes her mask, letting it hang loosely down her back, and looks Dizzy over for any injuries she may have, aside from the high fever. She doesn't know how to fix that one just yet.
Senkha closes her eyes and puts her hands on Dizzy's body. She's putting more effort into this than usual: the words on her arm slowly begin to seal up and her broken leg mends smoothly. The infection doesn't disappear completely, but it lessens some...enough that she can get to Stormwind before treatment. And then Senkha remembers that she can contact the Sigil! Marvels!
Macglynn whispers: The response is a practically incessant chattering. An unbroken train of thought. Mine-- nothing-- STOP--done-- can't-- home-- LEAVE ME.
Senkha drops the hand that holds her signet ring and looks down at Dizzy again before slipping her hands under the girl's body. She lifts her daughter once more and begins the long trek home.
To Macglynn: *When she is stable, I am coming for you. Calm yourself before then.*
To Macglynn: *...on second thought. Calm yourself fast and come home. She needs you.*
----
To Arubrey: "We have her."
Arubrey whispers: "-- Where was she?" Relief.
To Arubrey: "His manor. She's sick. Are...where are you?"
Arubrey whispers: "I'm in Silvermoon - I can start making my way out. Where's the manor?"
To Arubrey: "Destroyed. I burned it down. I'm taking her home."
Arubrey whispers: "Do you need me -- should I be there?"
To Arubrey: "I would like you to be here."
Senkha dismounts from her mammoth, holding Dizzy in her arms. She gives Tyvllor a terse nod. "Thank you for coming," she says in a croaky voice and fumbles with her key to unlock the door.
Senkha steps inside; the wards thrum musically as they recognize her presence.
Arubrey whispers: "Tell me where and I'll hoof it now."
To Arubrey: "Home. My house."
Arubrey whispers: "Alright."
Arubrey whispers: "I'll be there as quickly as possible."
Senkha just keeps going until she reaches Dizzy's bedroom and lays the girl on her bed. Stehl-the-whelp comes careening down from upstairs and leaps onto the bed beside Dizzy, chittering nervously. A flower sprouts on her forehead.
Senkha says: --I mended the worst of her wounds, but she's badly infected. She's burning up.
Tyvllor says: She's likely been surrounded by undeath. A variety of afflictions could persist.
Senkha nods her understanding. Her voice comes out flat and emotionless. "I know how to seal wounds. I can't cleanse infections, not with my knowledge."
Tyvllor sets the leather bag he was carrying on the railing.
Tyvllor says: Knowing how to seal wounds is well enough for someone not trained with the Light.
Tyvllor pulled off his gauntlets and set them aside.
Tyvllor thinks this house is to small for him. He kneels by the bedside in order to be closer to the poor child. Rubbing his hands together they become enveloped with a soft glow of Light.
Macglynn very quietly walks into his home and shuts the door. He walks over to one of the chairs in the main room and sits, hunched forward, blade still strapped to his back.
Tyvllor moves his hands to hover over Dizzy's body, tendrils of Light delicately weave down around her body. Gently feeling out sources of Infection, and discerning her over all state.
Senkha seems to register that her armor, covered with undead goo and blood and such, probably isn't helping the infection any. She stands a good several feet away, watching Tyvllor work. When she hears Oliver come in, she turns her head towards the door.
To Macglynn: *I need to get out of this armor; can you please come and watch her a moment?*
Macglynn is still very silent. The chair creaks under his weight as he pushes himself back up to stand, and he instead hovers in the doorway of Dizzy's room. His eyes are closed, as though he's concentrating.
Senkha sees Oliver appear in the doorway and silently steps out, beginning to work the ties of her armor as she does.
Macglynn whispers: His mind is in a complete state of chaos right now. Blightreaver makes up for his outer quiet with a constant stream of consciousness directed at anyone dumb enough to speak to him. Like Senkha!
Arubrey knocks the door three times.
Senkha lids her eyes, inclining her head towards Oliver. She's exhausted, but she'll multitask tonight. She turns to answer the door, as if she already knows who it is.
Tyvllor nods and mumbles to himself as he comes across the sources of the infection, and other maladies that plague her. He starts with the simplest ones to remove, as the glow from his hands intensifies. He begins the arduous process of cleansing the infection from her body.
Senkha says: --Twin. Come on in. Tyvllor is cleansing the infection now.
Arubrey says: ... Infection?
Macglynn whispers: DO NOT SPEAK belongs to STUPID, STUPID CAUSED THIS STOP IT
Arubrey lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.
To Macglynn: There's a calmness, an exhaustion in her mind. That voice has been her constant companion since they met up two days ago. Who caused it? Me? You?
Senkha nods weakly, eyes closed. "She was kept in that filthy house for those three days. He broke her leg. Cut into her arm." She sounds detatched and clinical.
Arubrey nods his head, looking over the scene. Then back to her, returning the same vacant expression. "Where do you need me?"
Senkha pauses, considering. She looks up the stairs to where her discarded armor lies, then at the kitchen. "--can you cook?"
Arubrey says: ... Uhhh.
Arubrey says: I can try?
Arubrey scratches at the back of his head.
Senkha says: I haven't eaten in th-- a lot of days. Dizzy will want something when she wakes, tonight or tomorrow. I...
Senkha looks at the kitchen again as if she has no idea how it works.
Arubrey says: ... Okay.
Arubrey sighs, moving into the kitchen. Digging around in whatever's avaliable to him here. ANYTHING IN PARTICULAR?
Senkha lowers her head in an expression of gratitude. "Thank you," she whispers, going back to stand in the doorway beside Oliver. After a moment, her legs fail her and she just sits on the floor, leaning against his legs.
Tyvllor worked hard, rooting out bits of infection from Dizzy's body and cleansing them away. The Tendrils of Light continued to weave gently around her body, his fingers would twitch occasinally.
Macglynn whispers: YOU HIM not a NOT-- COULDN'T DIDN'T -- the words trail off into a rageful sound, like something shattering- DO NOT SPEAK
Senkha closes her eyes, still leaning against Oliver. The pantry is well-stocked with all manner of food, including the ingredients for pancakes, lots of eggs (LOTS of eggs), and even more jerky.
Ariadine the fevered flush to her face lessens slightly. The troubled expression across her sleeping face melting into a slight frown as her ragged breaths even as well.
Arubrey looks around - grinning. Cake. He can make a cake with all this. He gathers together a few bowls, cracks the eggs. Dried and wet seperated in their own bowls. HARD AT WORK.
To Macglynn: Not speaking. She doesn't even try to speak, though her exhaustion seems to seep through to him. It's over now. It's all over now. Rest.
Tyvllor then turned his attention to the largest bit's of infection now. Digging deep he began to cleanse them away with the Lights strength, focusing on one at a time, moving systematiclly through her body. It would take him a bit longer, but he would leave no source of infection present.
Macglynn slowly gets to his knees. Rest. It's time to rest.
Senkha moves as Oliver kneels, leaning against him. She opens her eyes slightly looking over at Dizzy and Tyvllor. Her voice comes out faintly. "--how is she?"
Tyvllor says: She is strong. The infection was potent, but not the worst I've seen.
Senkha says: Th-thank the Light.
Tyvllor began the withdraw the Light from her, the infections rooted out and cleansed. He went back over once more, and strengthend Senkha's mendings before fully extinguishing the Light.
Tyvllor straightend and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, he let out a long breath. Then turned to his bag, undoing the straps and opening it. He removed three vials of a deep sapphire colored liquid, and set them on the railing.
Arubrey sighs, mixing the two bowls together. A pan retrieved. The oven was prepared during this time and by the time everything was ready - it was tossed inside.
Ariadine mutters something and turns in her bed, groping for some invisible being and grabs Stehl instead. She tries to hold him tight like a plushy. Her recognizable snores start.
Senkha exhales slowly at this sound and moves as if to push herself to her feet, though she doesn't quite manage it for a few tries. When she finally does stand, it's shakily.
Tyvllor says: She has come out of this physically much better then I feared she would. As for these. *He gestured to the vials* Mix them with water and let her drink it, they are supplements that will help her strength recover.
Senkha says: Th-thank you. Thank you so much. We can't thank you enough.
Senkha 's voice is weary and weak, but the gratitude laced through the words is genuine.
Tyvllor picked up the bag and flung it over a shoulder. "I need no thanks for this. Children are sacred, I would give my life for them."
Macglynn 's eyes are still closed, his brow still knit in concentration.
Senkha says: --still. Thank you so very much. If...could you inform the rest of the Sigil? I know many of them were worried.
Tyvllor says: As for you two, do what you need to do to get rested and strong. She'll need you both when she awakes.
Tyvllor says: I will inform them all, they will be very glad to know you all are safe.
Senkha says: Thank you. Thank you so much.
Senkha rests a hand on Oliver's head.
Tyvllor picked up his gauntlets and slide them on as he walked past them. "Be happy for her when she wakes."
Macglynn 's hand clutches his knee, and his fingers dig in. He doesn't stand with his wife.
Tyvllor slid himself into the seat of his mechanical Chopper. He flicks the ignition and it comes to life with a belch of smoke.
Senkha stands by Oliver a moment more before going to sit on Dizzy's bed. She places one hand on her daughter's forehead and closes her eyes.
Arubrey peers over towards the couple - a frown. His hand resting on the counter. It'd be a bit before it was baked. He merely sighed, stepping around to hover over Oliver. Watching his niece.
Senkha furrows her brow, her fingers on Dizzy's forehead tensing slightly. She gives a gasp as if something has been drawn from her. After another moment, the room fills with an inaudible rushing sound. Imprint in place, wards in place. She opens her eyes and bends down to kiss against Dizzy's forehead.
Senkha says: She'll sleep peacefully now. I--
Senkha sags, her knees buckling. She puts her hand on the bed to keep herself from crashing down on the floor hard. "--is dinner ready?"
Arubrey says: -- Should be.
Senkha nods but doesn't stand. She scoots forward on her butt, however, until she's sitting in the doorway area, looking from Arubrey to Oliver and back again.
Arubrey moves to the oven - a mit placed onto his hand. It's retrieved from inside, the oven cooled after. It's emptied onto a plate, a knife cut into it. Plates are set out - and soon Senkha is presented with a slice. A weak, meager little smile offered to her.
Senkha reaches up and takes the plate of cake. She hesitates for half a second and then digs into it as if she has never eaten before. She doesn't say anything to Arubrey but it's clear she's grateful.
Macglynn isn't catatonic, but his gaze is fixed on his hand clutching his knee.
Arubrey shrugs his shoulders, sighing.
Arubrey says: -- I...
To Arubrey: "Thank you. I'm sorry."
Arubrey whispers: "It's okay."
Arubrey whispers: "I'll - get going. Shouldn't take up the space. Cake is ready for when she wakes up."
Senkha continues to stuff her face, actually bending down to lick the plate when she finishes. Oh Light, is she hungry. She's not quite in her right mind yet. And the cake is good.
To Arubrey: "Kay. Thank you for this, twin. I love you."
Arubrey whispers: "Love you two."
Senkha only realizes once Arubrey has gone that she's eating like a pig. She blinks a few times and sets the plate down, looking to Oliver. "--alright?" she asks outloud, even though she doesn't need to.
Macglynn takes a while. He takes a long while, in fact, and his first response is a simple shudder. "Good."
Senkha surreptitiously picks up the plate to gather a few more crumbs. "We make a good team," she comments, licking cake from her fingers. She's obviously trying to recenter both of them, calm them both, bring them back to "normal."
Macglynn laughs, but doesn't smile with it. "We do."
Senkha wordlessly reaches out a hand towards Oliver, not to ask him to come closer or to touch him even, but just to let him know that she's there. "She won't have nightmares tonight, or if she does, I will be there to stop them."
Macglynn says: Sleep, though.
Senkha nods slowly. "I will. I put an imprint of myself in her mind to destroy anything he left behind. When she's recovered more, I'll destroy any remnants myself. I won't let this break her."
Macglynn says: When Ah pulled 'im away from 'er. Ah wasn't watchin'. She was tryin' ta kill him.
Senkha blinks a few times at this. "...huh. I didn't see that either." After a moment's consideration, she frowns. "Where did she--?"
Macglynn says: A knife. Or somethin'.
Macglynn says: She 'ad it fer 'is book.
Senkha blinks a few more times, looking at Oliver. Some part of her might usually put pieces together and make sense of things, but though her mind is still racing, her body is too tired after three days of no rest. "She...I have a lot of work to do."
Senkha says: When she's better.
Macglynn says: Don't hurt y'self.
Senkha looks slightly guilty at this, leaning against the doorframe. "I did. Not badly, but those wards were torture. I'll need a couple of days before I can fix anything, I think."
Macglynn sighs softly. After the quake, he stands. His expression is unfocused and tired. He looks terrible: his left shoulderplate is smashed in on itself, and he's been slashed in numerous places. His tabard is stained black. Again.
Macglynn says: Y'can't quite mend bones, can yah?
Macglynn smiles and laughs softly.
Senkha says: I can. Mended hers.
Senkha rests her head against the doorframe still, looking at Oliver the a bemused half-smile.
Macglynn says: Y'look ready t' fall over.
Senkha says: It's just my body. I haven't got your stamina...if it hadn't been such horrible circumstances, I would've liked what we did this weekend.
Senkha frowns as she says this because, really, who enjoys themselves when lost to bloodlust with their crazy husband? Apparently she does!
Macglynn says: Whut we did--
Senkha says: --yeah.
Macglynn closes his eyes. "Ah'm glad y'was there."
Senkha presses her lips together and nods after a moment. Now she does reach out to ask him to come closer. "I'm glad that I found you. I'm glad we were together."
Macglynn shakes his head. He doesn't say it, but he reminds her of the condition he's in. He shouldn't be near anybody.
Senkha says: --right. Do...nnn. How bad is it?
Macglynn says: Ha' bad's whut.
Senkha waves her hand towards him, indicating his injuries. "Are you still bleeding? Do you need me to call somebody? Or will a quick bath suffice?"
Macglynn grabs at his tabard with both hands and looks down at the cloth, once a dirty white, now caked with black. "Most 'a it ain't mahn."
Senkha nods, looking at the tabard. "If you want to take it off, I can wash it with my armor tomorrow."
Macglynn grunts. "Fuck it. Ah can't wear this damned armor anyway. We got a damned hose?"
Senkha nods, looking over towards the door. "Just around back. Connects to the lake. Want me to help?"
Macglynn says: ... No.
Senkha says: If you're sure.
Senkha doesn't move to get up even if he's not sure. She doesn't seem to have the energy left to stand.
Macglynn turns and unclasps his cloak. He throws it to the stone floor. He then lifts his tabard over his head and throws it to the floor as well. It actually makes a wet *splat* as it hits the floor. He rests his sword by the door and walks outside.
Senkha just watches Oliver go outside, looking at his tabard and cloak where they fell. She doesn't make a move, just sagging against the doorframe. She would be asleep, but it seems she's waiting for something.
Macglynn picks up the hose and frowns at it, in a Dirty-Harry-make-my-day kind of way.
Macglynn sighs and throws the hose onto the ground again, and begins to unbuckle his pauldrons. He sets them in the grass, giving the busted one a light kick and a shake of the head.
Senkha actually laughs weakly, as if she's seeing something funny. Granted, she's really just seeing what Oliver's seeing, but it's funny.
Macglynn 's brows furrow and he drops his just-removed chestplate from his hands and pounds on the wall.
Senkha winces as he pounds on the wall and, with an enormous effort, gets up. She skirts around the tabard and cloak, stumbling around the side of the house.
Senkha says: Mm?
Macglynn turns around. He's just picked up the hose, is shirtless and covered in blight, and looks somewhat angry, but more embarrassed. A small stream of water trickles from the hose. "Hi."
Senkha leans against the wall, standing by sheer force of will alone. She manages a gentle smile at Oliver. "Hi. Maybe shouldn't bang on Dizzy's bedroom wall?"
Macglynn stands there, staring. The hose still dribbles and splatters on the stone. "Maybe y'shouldn't laugh."
Senkha sighs softly, shaking her head. "Do you need a hand with that?" she asks, still leaning.
Macglynn says: ... No.
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