Mairèad & Chadley: January 28

Chadley parks the bike and steps off. He looks down, grumbles something about sand, and half-runs over to her. It already seems like the whole situation is making him nervous. "I, uh. I got your letter back."

Mairèad says: Y'did? What 'appened wiff you an' yer stalker-girlfriend?
Mairèad grins up at Chadley, laying out some of his favorite foods on a checkered, though faded, picnic blanket. She's also set her sword aside for the time being.

Chadley sits. At a distance appropriate for friends. "Haven't seen her since. I'm thinking about just ignoring the problem and hoping it never makes itself apparent again."

Mairèad sets out a pitcher of pink lemonade and scoots closer to Chadley. Not too close, just closer than they are, because he is not dead and she is Mairèad. "Did she rilly lie t'Mr. Thomaston 'bout ha' you met?"

Chadley reaches out for a bread roll. It's just far enough away that he has to scoot a bit away from her to get it, so he does. He breaks it in half. "She did. Told him I saved her... Light knows- and Cecil knows- that I couldn't have done that."
Chadley smiles faintly as he spreads the butter. At least he knows he's pathetic.

Mairèad , meanwhile, reaches out for the cups on the other side of Chadley. Again, more scooting. She pours two glasses of lemonade, offering him one. "You'll git be'er. I mean...they're right, y'know yer attitude needs 'elp."
Mairèad says: But I know you, an' I know this's whatchoo always wan'ed. Yer gunna be a great palerdin, Chad.

Chadley 's shoulders slump a little bit for some reason, and he takes the cup. "My attitude doesn't need help, people just need to stop being idiots."

Mairèad shakes her head, drinking from her own glass and making a face at the lemonade. More sour than she likes. "Well, they do need t'stop bein' idiots, but yer attitude makes 'em more wanna be idiots. They jest do it t'git a rise outta you."
Mairèad says: But if you stop reactin' an' jest start bein' like " 'ey, I don' care..." then they'll git bored.
Chadley says: I've tried the ignore tactic with your friend Stehl. It doesn't work.

Mairèad says: Tha's 'cause 'e's retarded.
Mairèad says: An' 'e ent me friend.

Chadley takes a sip of the lemonade himself. It's hard to tell if he thinks it's too sour, because his expression is already stuck in a distasteful frown. "Who -is- he?"

Mairèad says: No idear. 'e's always on fire, though, an' 'e kills deaders an' cultists fer a livin'.
Mairèad says: If 'e din' 'ave such a bad attitude 'imself, 'e'd be brilliant, but as 'tis, I fink 'e's got special needs.

Chadley says: Maybe he's been hit in the head too many times. Or maybe all that fire's cooked his brains.
Chadley says: I feel kind of bad for him now.

Mairèad chuckles at this. Progress! She reaches for a roll herself and shifts position, somehow leaning even closer to Chadley, though not touching him. "See, thar y'go! If you keep that in mind when 'e's bein' obnoxious, it'll 'elp you t'not git so upset at 'im!"
Mairèad says: 'Leastwise tha's what Matteo Fuckin' Crowe tells me 'bout deaders.

Chadley says: What, just remember their brains are rotted and their souls are gone, so they can't use logic?

Mairèad says: Ezzackly. That an' rememb'rin' that they been through more'n you'r I could compare wiff. ...though I still try an' fry 'em if they got ghouls inna Cathedral. Or onna steps.

Chadley says: ... I'd not tolerate them within the city, personally.
Chadley says: Ghouls, I mean. Deaders, either, but what can you do.

Mairèad reaches over Chadley again, this time for a piece of fried chicken. Om nom. "Seersly. Wish they weren' allowed inna city, but I giss they be war 'eroes na'r sumfin'." She wrinkles her nose in distaste and sighs, leaning back against Chadley's shoulder and nomming chicken.

Chadley suddenly looks visibly uncomfortable, but doesn't scoot any further because that would put him in sand. "I don't trust them. Who knows what Arthas did to them. They could snap and attack any day."
Chadley says: I hate to sound paranoid, but it's not without basis in truth.

Mairèad nods her agreement, still crunching on chicken. "Tha's why they got guards inna Cathedral...but...oh Chad, y'shoulda seen it t'ovver day! I was tryin'a be respec'ful an' git this deader t'take 'is ghoul outside, an' errybody yelled a'me!"
Mairèad says: 'e 'ad a ghoul inna -Cathedral- an' errybody yelled at -me-. What the fuck!

Chadley says: The Cathedral Square's become nothing but a beacon for brain-addled undead, loose women, troublemakers, criminals, and feral wolf-men.
Chadley says: That doesn't surprise me.

Mairèad says: Dun' surprise me neither. Jest...nngh. Ha're y's'posed t'practice respect on 'em when they're so...-like tha'-?!
Mairèad leans back enough that she can look up at Chadley. Her face now somewhat resembles his. Deaders suck, man.

Chadley says: ... Ehh. My dad always told me that I only should respect people that have earned it.
Chadley says: Looking back, that's kind of a weird thing for a paladin to say.
Chadley says: But I agree.

Mairèad says: ...said the same fin' t'me t'ovver day.
Mairèad stops looking at Chadley and stares out over the beach, silently nomming her chicken still.

Chadley stops drinking his lemonade mid-sip and his gaze slides over onto her. Not putting the cup down, he says, "What."

Mairèad says: Yer dad talks t'me. Or the corpse what were yer dad. 'e ent bad, fer a corpse wivvout feelin's.'
Mairèad says: Leastwise -'e- knows 'is place.

Chadley shudders. He puts the cup down and picks up a piece of chicken. He begins to tear strips off of it into even pieces and sticks them between the pieces of a halved roll. "I'm sorry."

Mairèad says: Ent s'bad. You'd be surprised...erry time 'e finks 'a you, 'e lights up like i's Win'er Veil.

Chadley bites into his sandwich, talking as he eats, "Yeah. He's dead. They're shiny. They do that. Light up."
Chadley swallows. "Said yourself they don't have feelings."

Mairèad says: They don'. I fink i's jest instinct that 'e remembers from bein' alive. 'skinna nice when y'consider...well. Nevarrrmind. Don' rilly wanna fink 'bout dads t'day.
Mairèad leans back against Chadley again, tugging the last bits of meat off the bone of her drumstick before pitching it to the side like the classy lady she is.

Chadley snorts. "Instinct, right. You- hm? Have you spoken to your, uh... dad again?"
Chadley says: I mean, no-- sorry. You didn't want to talk about it.
Chadley tries to shrug her off of him.

Mairèad sits up, less because he's shrugging her off and more because she wants more food. "Talked to 'im t'ovver night. 'e din' stick 'round fer long an' jest wan'ed t'know if 'e needed t'give me any money."

Chadley says: ... Nnh. What'd you say? Anything?

Mairèad says: Said 'e din' owe me nuffin'. An' walked away, 'cause fin's was gittin' crazy.
Mairèad takes a huge bite of roll and chews a bit balefully, going back to leaning against Chadley.

Chadley 's brow furrows and he tries to shrug her off again. "Do you consider that closure?"

Mairèad remains unshrugged off, biting off a bit more roll. "Fuck no, but I ent gunna keep chasin' 'im 'round Stormwind when 'e obvyussly dun' wan' anyfin' t'do wiff me."

Chadley leans forward to grab... the farthest thing away he can, which is apparently the honey. He stretches out forward, which would probably cause her to have to sit up, and grabs it.
Chadley says: Guess not.
Chadley says: Anyway, I'm sorry.

Mairèad , rather than sitting up, falls sideways into his lap like a very talented person. She then actually sits up, blushing. "Ent yer fault. I nevarrrr 'spected 'im t'be an angel...'e's a pirate, not a 'ero like yer dad was."

Chadley does scoot a bit away at this, now almost in the sand. He jumps a little as he squeezes the honey and it practically explodes onto his sandwich.
Chadley says: ... I'd hardly consider him an angel, either.
Chadley sets the honey bottle aside and wets a napkin, trying to get it off his chain legguards.

Mairèad watches Chadley try and get the honey off of his armor with a slight frown. "Me neither. But...compared to me dad, I mean. S'diff'rnt."

Chadley says: ... Yeah. I think I know what you mean.
Chadley frowns as a piece of the napkin sticks and rips off instead of cleans the honey. He sighs.

Mairèad is finally fed up with Chadley's inefficient honey-removal. She grabs for a napkin herself and, wetting it with her tongue, starts working on the honey herself. "Lemme do that. Dads're weird, y'know? Mams ent. They make sense."

Chadley frowns deeper, holding out a hand to stop hers. "I can do it, Mair just-" He tries to take the napkin. "Gimme that."

Mairèad looks up at Chadley somewhat balefully and gives the bit of legguard a couple of firmer scrubs. "No, 's'a'righ'. I almos' got it anyway."

Chadley scowls and rests back on his hands. He looks out at the water and lets her scrub at it, figuring the less he argues the quicker it'll be over.
Chadley says: Fine.

Mairèad continues to scrub silently, finally managing to get the bulk of the honey off. "Thar. You'll hafta polish it when y'git back t'Redridge, but ovverwise, 's'good's new."

Chadley says: ... I could'a done that myself.

Mairèad tosses the balled up napkin at his head. "Yahar, but I did it faster."

Chadley blinks. The napkin bounces off his head and onto the blanket. "How is one supposed reach your desirable skill of honey cleaning if they're not given any opportunities to improve?"

Mairèad smiles winningly. "Well, first y'watch a master an' learn 'er techniques. Then she lets you start tryin'...on less impor'ent fin's, like 'er own armor...an' then, when yer good a'that, yer a master."
Chadley says: Oh. Well, I didn't watch.

Mairèad says: Could show you agin.

Chadley says: I think it's clean.

Mairèad wordlessly grabs the bottle of honey again and dabs a tiny bit on Chadley's thigh. "Not anymore."

Chadley says: ... Mair, what the fuck.

Mairèad giggles, grabbing for another napkin and looking at Chadley with a devilish grin. "Ha're y's'posed t'learn anyfin' wivvout adversity, mm?"

Chadley says: Yeah, but you don't start trouble just to fix it!

Mairèad says: Whaddya fink trainin' is? Don' worreh, jest watch what I do, okie?
Mairèad takes another napkin and waits for Chadley to start watching.

Chadley falls into his trademark deadpan and stares at her.
Chadley says: -Fine-.
Chadley blinks at Shore Crawler.
Chadley stiffens... and then relaxes again as the crab wanders away.

Mairèad grins and wets the napkin again, leaning in and beginning to work on the new dab of honey. "Na', see, y'gotta make circles like this. Li'l ones, not big'uns. An' don' press down too 'ard, or yer napkin'll git stuck."

Chadley says: Okay. I get it. Give it here.

Mairèad raises an eyebrow at Chadley, stopping in her cleaning but not moving away. "A'righ', you give it a try, then, an' I'll watch."

Chadley snatches the napkin. He stares at the spot that's dirty from both honey and, worse, her spit. He folds the napkin in half and wets the new spot. He does exactly as she did, looking sour.

Mairèad watches the entire process, smiling approvingly. "Rill good, Chad. Tha's ha' y'do it." She still doesn't move away from him; quite the opposite, she starts with the leaning again.

Chadley gets it about as clean as it'll get, and then slowly looks down and over at her. "You're leaning."

Mairèad is in fact. "Mmhm."

Chadley says: ... Can you not?

Mairèad sits up, frowning, clearly disappointed. She stares straight ahead and starts picking at a piece of dessert--red velvet cupcakes.

Chadley says: I- I'm sorry, I just... personal space...

Mairèad picks at the cupcake still. "I know. I jest've missed you s'all. Easier bein' meself 'round you, y'know?"

Chadley says: Um. I guess.
Chadley eats the last bite of his sandwich. This is awkward.

Mairèad says: Dontchoo 'ave a easier time bein' yerself 'round me?

Chadley says: I'm always myself.

Mairèad says: Wivvout people finkin' yer a bad fer it?

Chadley says: I don't care.

Mairèad sighs quietly and goes back to picking at her cupcake. "I'm sorreh. I din' mean t'make you uncomftubble. Jest...wan'ed t'day t'be like it used t'be, remember? 'afore we 'ad t'be grown-ups?"

Chadley says: ... Don't want to ruin your day. Sorry for being sour all the time. Didn't mean to not be fun.

Mairèad takes a second cupcake and hands it to Chadley as a peace offering. "Y'gotta right t'be uncomftubble. An' i's more yer day 'm worried 'bout bein' ruined."

Chadley takes the cupcake. He just... looks at it. "I am having fun." He says this in the tone someone would say, "I am in statistics class," but it's Chadley, so for all the world knows, he actually is.

Mairèad gives Chadley a wry half smile and takes a proper bite of her cupcake now, managing to get icing all over her face. "D'you like it 'ere? Thought it'd remind you 'a bein' 'ome."

Chadley is significantly more careful with his eating, managing to contain all of the icing in his mouth and not his face. "Hmf. These're good," he comments with a full mouth.
Chadley swallows. "And... we didn't have a beack at home, and it was more woodsy... but I like it here."

Mairèad says: I'm glad.

Chadley says: It's quiet.

Mairèad says: Yahar, 'tis. Chad?

Chadley looks at her, half-biting into the cupcake. "Hm?"

Mairèad takes another bite of cupcake and then, before she can change her mind about doing so, leans in and kisses Chadley lightly. She's almost cringing as she does so, as if expecting the inevitable freak out to come.
Mairèad kisses him on the cupcake. She is that talented.

Chadley drops the cupcake and scoots away. Way away, into the sand, with eyes wide. "Tch- the- you- Huh?!"

Mairèad actually does cringe now. Yep, exactly what she expected. "...y'droppped yer cupcake," she observes and takes another bite of hers. Her cheeks have gone horribly red.

Chadley lifts a hand and waves it from side to side. "Yeah, uh. No. No, ignore that. Go back to the part where- did you just -kiss me-?!"

Mairèad nods. Bites her cupcake again. Chews. Swallows. She is being way too quiet for herself.

Chadley brings his hand up to his mouth, fist clenched, and exhales sharply onto it. "Okay. Okay. Aha- uh." He looks like he might start laughing, of all things. "Why?"

Mairèad chews this particular bite of cupcake forty times before swallowing and speaking again, in a low, embarrassed voice. " 'cause I l- 'cause I like you."
Mairèad says: An' I jest wan'ed t'see if I still did...'cause i's been a while.

Chadley fumbles over several words for a moment, apparently changing his mind every time before saying something. Finally, he settles again on, "Why?!"

Mairèad finishes her cupcake and crumples up the wrapper, still not looking at Chadley. Instead, she picks up her sword from where she let it down. " 'Cause I kin be meself 'round you. You don' 'spect me t'be anyfin' ovver'n what I am."
Mairèad says: Y'know me be'er'n I know meself an' yer kinna...kinna me 'appy thought.

Chadley 's fingers dig into the sand and he bites his lip, straining to look directly at her and not just flee.
Chadley says: I-
Chadley says: Uh.
Chadley says: I...
Chadley says: ...

Mairèad says: ...sorreh.
Mairèad sets to work removing her boots, belt, vest, and trousers. Without many more words than just that she's sorreh again, she sloshes into the water.

Chadley scoots back onto the blanket and pulls his knees up. He rests his chin on them, looking more confused than angry.

Mairèad treads water for a minute and then dives under. If Chadley could hear underwater, he'd hear a loud, primal scream of frustration, but as he can't, he'd probably just see bubbles.

Chadley doesn't even see the bubbles. He crosses his arms over his knees and rests his head in them, still looking like he's been slapped in the face.

Mairèad stays underwater for a long time; probably more than most normal people would consider healthy. Eventually, the bubbles subside and she emerges, just her nose and eyes above the water, watching Chadley almost mournfully.

Chadley looks up where she emerges, face half-covered by his arms. He accidentally makes eye contact and looks back down. It looks like he mutters something, but she'd probably be too far away.

Mairèad does mutter something, though with her mouth underwater, it just comes out as bubbles. She submerges again, this time actually sitting on the ocean floor and apparently sulking there.

Chadley looks back up. After a moment, he stands and removes the outer chain layer of his armor. He walks to the shore, stares at the water for a moment, and eventually (and cautiously) steps into it. He sits, resuming the same position he had before.
Chadley 's head is just above the water.

Mairèad , being underwater and sulking, doesn't quite notice this. When she eventually comes up for air again, because fuck drowning deaths, she jumps a little bit to see Chadley having come so close. "...hi."

Chadley looks at her, somewhat sulkingly, but also somewhat apologetically.

Mairèad 's hand emerges from the water to push her hair out of her face, though it flops determinedly back into her eyes. After a few moments' silence, she decides to go for broke. After all, he's already looking at her like she stabbed his grandmother, might as well just go for it. "I lied."

Chadley 's voice is low, just above a whoarse whisper. "About what."

Mairèad takes a deep breath, though she isn't cringing when she speaks. "I don' like you. I love you." And with that, she swims toward the shore, sitting on the sand and not caring much that she's getting it all over everything.

Chadley 's eyes clench. The lower half of his face sinks below the water and he lets out a breath, causing a burst of bubbles as she had done. Lifting his head again, he just says, "I'm not good at these things."

Mairèad quietly and patiently wrings out her oversized shirt onto the sand. Sleeves, cuffs, hem, seam. She pauses when he speaks and admits, quietly, "I know. Ent known you all yer life fer nuffin'."

Chadley says: I'm a coward. I don't like talking. I don't have money. I can't spend time. I have nothing to give you. Please tell me this is a prank.

Mairèad squirms uncomfortably in her wet shirt and finally just removes it, tossing it aside and lying back to dry off in the sun. She shakes her head. "Y'ent nevarrr 'ad any 'a them fin's. Ent a prank."

Chadley 's breath grows a little short and uneven as his thoughts process and he enters into panic mode, though it's interrupted as he accidentally snorts water up his nose. His hands clap over his face and he swears.

Mairèad props herself up on her elbows, somewhat alarmed. "Y'a'righ'?"

Chadley nods, waving one hand in her direction dismissively so she stays away. "Yeah. Water." He sniffs and pinches his nose, now looking more uncomfortable than he did before. "What do I do here."
Mairèad says: Blow out so the wa'er comes outta yer nose 'stead 'a inhalin', so y'don' drown.

Chadley 's eyes close again. "I don't mean -that-."

Mairèad lies back again, resting her arms above her head and closing her own eyes. "Y'do whatchoo wanna do, Chad. If y'don' wanna be wiff me, I'll git over it."

Chadley says: Um, well. There's a rather large difference between what I want and what I think I can do.

Mairèad says: Ha' d'you mean?

Chadley still doesn't turn around to face her. "I'm just... not- I don't... I can't..." He hunches down into the water a little bit more. "I- of course I like you, but how-" He flinches as he admits this. Why he flinches when she's said the same thing is a mystery.
Chadley just lowers back into the water entirely. Can't talk under here, nope.

Mairèad opens her eyes and props herself up on her elbows again, watching him. "How what? I don' unnerstand."

Chadley pops up from the water just long enough to say, "I don't-- I don't know!"

Mairèad sighs and pushes herself up, sloshing into the water again and sitting beside him, heedless of the drying she's undone. "It's okie if you don' know. You don' gotta know."

Chadley says: I don't like not knowing.

Mairèad says: Mos' people don't. But...I jest wan'ed you t'know that i's...I mean. If y'gotta go 'way an' fink 'bout fin's, tha's okie. An' if y'kin't do it, tha's okie, too.
Mairèad sinks down so that just her head is above the water as well, adding in a mutter, "Wouldna pushed fin's s'fast if Bryn din' fink I should."

Chadley says: Bryn is an idiot and she annoys me.

Mairèad shrugs a shoulder, displacing enough water to give Chadley a small, unintentional splash. "She grew up onna streets. 'er boyfriend disappeared fer a lon' time recen'ly, an' she jest got turned inna a wergin."

Chadley says: Everyone's a worgen. We're probably worgen and don't even realize it.

Mairèad shrugs again, creating another small splash. "Still. Kin't be easy. She thought I should tell you all this s'I could figger out if I like you'r Shep more." She seems unmoved by her own bluntness.

Chadley says: Oh. Um. Have you figured that out?

Mairèad glances sideways at Chadley and then looks away quickly, cheeks flushing scarlet. "Well. I -like- Shep. I -love- you. Jest...I dunno. Nevarrr 'ad much experience wiff rill fin's like this, fin's what ent jest fer fun'r learnin'."

Chadley says: ... I think we're both pretty bad choices. But if you thought better of him, I- I guess I'd be jealous.

Mairèad says: Ha'come y'fink yer a bad choice?

Chadley submerges his face back underwater, just below his eyes.

Mairèad looks sideways at him again, smiling reluctantly.

Chadley says something while submerged.

Mairèad also submerges her head slightly, as if this will help. She bubbles a response.

Chadley looks at you.

You look at Chadley.

Chadley brings his head back up out of the water and sighs. "I jus' am, a'rite? Dunno what to do. Lemme think."

Mairèad lifts her head and nods. "Wanna go back t'Stormwind?"

Chadley says: ... Yeah. Fuck, I'm sorry.

Mairèad doesn't look at him, shrugging as she stands, still nearly bare. "Din' realistic'lly 'spect anyfin' diff'rnt. Not like this's a fairy story, right?" She forces a laugh and turns back to start tugging on her clothes, still leaving off the drenched shirt.

Chadley watches her stand, but immediately looks down and away when he notices her state of undress. "Nnh. No. I guess it's not."

Mairèad sits to tug on her boots, not looking back at Chadley. "An', I mean. I mean, seersly. Y'know, it's been two 'ole years. Din' 'spec nuffin' diff'rnt."

Chadley nods, looking like he's internally cursing himself right now. He stands and sloshes out of the water, creating a wet trail behind him in the sand as he grabs for his armor. "I'd be willing to try."

Mairèad pauses in buckling her belt when he says this, taking care to adjust her libram so that it doesn't get wet. "Y'mean it?" She still isn't looking at him.

Chadley says: Keyword being try. I can't promise anything.

Mairèad sighs quietly and adjusts her holy symbol around her wrist, turning it over a few times in her hands. Her vest still hangs open, though she wraps it around herself tightly. "...y'know, mebbe...mebbe we oughta wait 'til you fink you -can- promise sumfin'. Jest...y'know. If we're gunna do this, I don' wanna do it half-arsed. If I'm gunna love you, I wanna love you all th'way, not jest some."

Chadley loads his armor into a side-satchel on his bike, and sites on the bike's seat as he puts his boots back on. "Um. You're my only friend. I don't want this to make things shitty."

Mairèad moves from adjusting her clothes to picking up the picnic supplies, stowing them on the back of the bike. She manages a smile at Chadley. "Ha'come y'fink I was waitin' s'long t'say anyfin'? I've loved you since I was fitteen."

"I-- I'm sorry I don't know what to do." Chadley just keeps apologizing, relevant or not.

Mairèad gives him a brave smile. She's pretty obviously forcing down a lot of emotion, but she doesn't want him to feel bad. "Look, don' worreh 'bout it. I'm fine. Always fine. When y'figger out whatchoo wanna do, jest lemme know." She shrugs hopping into the sidecar. "Onleh you git t'decide what t'do nex' week."

Chadley starts the bike's engine and sighs. "This is gonna be an awkward ride home, isn't it."

Mairèad's grin grows slightly devilish, though she still presses her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to control any further emotion from escaping. "Always is wiff you, Chad." She bops him on the head with the flat of her sword, obviously attempting something like normalcy.

Chadley doesn't even flinch when he's bopped. It just kind of contacts his head with a clang. "Good to know." He kicks the bike into gear and drives off.

Senkha & Llew: January 22, late

Senkha says: Sorry to have yelled at your girl. My temper's been short all day.

Wheaton shakes his head. "She was hangin' around causin' trouble."

Senkha laughs fondly, giving Llew a slight squeeze. "Reminds me of someone else I once knew."

Wheaton chuckles slightly at that. "I wouldn't know who you're referring to."

Senkha says: ...well. It's not the Lighthouse, but it's pretty far removed. What do you think?

Wheaton glances around them for a moment. Not ideal, but it's alright for now. He leads her over to the edge of the canal and sits.

Senkha plops down, facing the water and letting her legs dangle. She leans back to rest her head on Llew's shoulder. "I'm sorry this all happened to you, Cous. I wish I could take it all away."

Wheaton reaches over to take her hand as they settle there on the short wall. He slumps a bit, leaning back against her. "Ain't your fault," he says softly. "Per usual I was a dumb ass and did it to myself."

Senkha shrugs, still resting her head on Llew's shoulder. "Shit happens. I've done it more than a few times myself. I...I'm just glad you're back safe now. Any stupidity on your part doesn't matter."

Wheaton takes a deep breath as he watches their hands. "I cain't sleep, Sennie. Ain't slept a wink since I got back. It's bad enough what they left me with when I'm awake, but the second I close my eyes and that dark comes . . "

Senkha sighs quietly, squeezing Llew's hand. "She left an Imprint," she states quietly.

Wheaton looks over at her, frowning. So tired. "A what?"

Senkha says: Whenever you face physical or psychological trauma, who or whatever is causing the trauma leaves a mark on your mind, something that will terrorize you until the darker parts of your subconscious--your Guardian--rise up and destroy it.

Wheaton pauses, frowning. "She --... I don't understand what all that is.. but she kept talking about a guardian. And calling for it.. and then she caught my moth and she squished it."
Wheaton says: I don't understand what that is.

Senkha closes her eyes, still holding onto Llew's hand. "Everyone has one of a sort...when bad things happen to you and you sort of lose yourself to rage or fear or viciousness...that's your Guardian."
Senkha says: It protects your mind...the good parts of you...from being overly damaged by outside influences. Most people's Guardians aren't drawn out and developed, but...Light, your moth?

Wheaton grips her hand lightly, his voice quieting, weakening. "I don't feel nothin' but sad, Sennie. I feel all empty inside and like I ain't nothin' but a burden on everybody." His brow furrows deep. "For fuck's sake, I was cryin' earlier... -ME-, -'cryin'-... Tellin' Bryn she should go live her life and let me just wither alone, because that's what I deserve." He sighs raggedly. "I know that ain't me, but that's all I feel. Just sad and worthless."

Senkha turns her head slightly to kiss Llew's shoulder. "I could tell that things were missing from your mind when I looked...things that would've been there. Should have been there. Do you remember what happened?"

Wheaton says: What happened? With her?
Wheaton sighs, looking over at her.

Senkha says: Mmhm.

Wheaton says: She reached in and found the things that were important to me . . and she started rippin' 'em out.
Wheaton says: And she brought all the bad stuff to the front and just sort of left it there.
Wheaton says: There's stuff I know I should remember . . but I can't.

Senkha nods slowly, still resting her cheek against Llew's shoulder. "And that's why you can't see anything but darkness now when you close your eyes. Did...did she take -everything- good from you?"

Wheaton says: It ain't darkness I see... it's . .
Wheaton takes a deep breath, gazing off down the street.

Senkha nods slowly, "Tell me about it. The more I know, the more I can try and help."

Wheaton says: It's Bryn mangled up and dead. Or chained up at that bastard's feet. It's you getting ripped to pieces. Pa sayin' he hates me, you sayin' you hate me, Bryn hating me. My littl--
Wheaton pauses at that.
Wheaton grips her hand and looks at her again.
Wheaton says: It's all I see. Lots of hate and tears.

Senkha says: ...that's an Imprint.
Senkha says: None of it's real. She wanted to make sure you never forgot her, and she wanted to make it so that you couldn't move on.
Senkha sounds incredibly hateful as she says this, though there's a note of pain behind her voice.

Wheaton frowns, leaning over against Senkha a little more. "I just wanna sleep, Sennie... I'm so fuckin' tired."

Senkha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I can help with that. What I can do for you...I can leave a piece of my mind in yours to fight off the Imprint, at least until I can talk to Marius. He...he'll be able to repair the damage she did better than I can."

Wheaton gently grips at her hand, looking over at her. "You're the only one I trust, Sen.. if you can help me.. just even one night's sleep.. I'd do anything."

Senkha smiles at Llew, touching his cheek with her hand. "You don't have to do anything for me in return, Llew. I'm doing this because..." She sighs softly and looks up at the sky. "When I was growing up, you kind of saved me, you know?"
Senkha says: You were the reason I never burned out. Never died. But now it's time for me to save you.

Wheaton looks at her seriously, weary. And touched. His normally warm, bright eyes are so dull. He releases her hand and curls his arm across her. He kisses her temple. "You're my Girl," he says softly. "The only one that ever gave a shit about me. I'd do anything for you."

Senkha holds Llew close to her and closes her eyes. "Same, Llew. I'll always be your Girl, no matter what." She pulls back some to smile weakly at him. "This is going to be a little weird. You ready?"

Wheaton says: One question first?

Senkha says: Shoot.

Wheaton says: If there are things there I know I want up front, but I can't do it alone . . can you bring 'em up in front of everything else, with what you leave?

Senkha nods. "Just tell me what you want. I'll see if I can find it while I'm in there and bring it to the fore for you. Good dreams tonight, I promise."

Wheaton says: There's a little girl in there. On a farm in Westfall. Looks just like me.
Wheaton takes a breath, and closes his eyes.

Senkha doesn't question this but simply nods, hugging Llew around the waist again. "What of her I can find, I'll make sure she's in your dreams tonight. Promise. You ready?"

Wheaton nods, bracing himself for that weird tingly feeling.

Senkha nods and closes her eyes placing her hand on Llew's cheek. She furrows her brow in concentration, careful not to let herself be distracted.

After just a moment, Llew would notice a new presence in his mind--familiar, comforting, just as Senkha has always been, but distinctly powerful. It's not malicious in any way and is looking for that little girl, first and foremost.

There are a lot of memories of that little girl, most of them dotted with empty spots where moments were removed. All of the images are from a distance, most them involving an old tree stump being used as a chair, or a table for teddy bear tea party.

Senkha seizes on several memories immediately, the ones where he's closest, and pulls them to the front of his mind immediately. With these, she brings what little she can find of herself and Bryn as well, just a few additional memories, enough to create some derpishly adorable dreams. This done, she sets to work binding the memories to the front of his mind and pushing back the bad. This is likely the most uncomfortable part of the process...the good memories remain to the fore, but the bad can't help but flash across his mind.

Wheaton sighs quietly, his head leaned over against hers. A sigh of relief.

The last part of the process is something Llew likely wouldn't even notice until he began to dream...there's an odd, almost severing sensation from Senkha's mind. All he would know is the image of her smiling face, but tonight, if the nightmares try to return, Senkha will be there, fighting them off, never flagging or tiring. She may also have angel wings--but those are Dizzy's touch.

Senkha 's fingers tense against Llew's face and there is an inaudible rushing sound from around them as she inhales sharply. After another moment, she opens her eyes and the connection withdraws.
Senkha says: ...a-alright?

Wheaton 's eyes don't open right away. He just leans there, holding onto her a few moments longer. There is a nod. He clears his throat quietly. And then he lets her go and sits up. "Yeah. Alright. Thanks to you."

Senkha shakes her head, smiling sadly. "It's not a permanent fix...it'll last a week before it starts getting weaker. When you're less tired, Llew, we'll work together...I'll have Marius help try to repair some of the damage. You'll be okay, but it'll take time."

Wheaton looks over at her, smiling softly. "I'm happy with the thought of a full night of sleep." He leans over and kisses her cheek.

Senkha grins at the kiss, resting her head against Llew's for half a second. "Let's get you to bed somewhere. I'll see if I can't find that girl of yours and send her up after you...be good to see her when you wake up, yeah?"

Wheaton smiles, nodding. "I'll just wander back to the inn. It ain't far from here. Have myself a quick nip, and flop out." He sighs. "Sounds real nice."

Senkha impulsively reaches over and pulls Llew into a tight hug, tighter than he gave her even when he came back. "Sweet dreams, Llew. When you're more rested, let me know. I promise, I'll fix you."

Wheaton hugs her tight right back, and kisses her cheek again. "You're my angel," he whispers. And then he's up, and sauntering off down the street.

Oliver & Mairèad: January 13

You blink at Macglynn.
You wave at Macglynn.
Mairèad says: ...hi Mr. MacGlynn.

Macglynn blinks and lifts a hand in greeting as well. "... Hello, there."

Mairèad says: Ha're you? Ent seen you 'round much lately.

Macglynn smiles, though his shoulders sag a little. "Drained. My-" Oliver pauses, deciding against mentioning his family at all. "Havin' trouble with cultists."

Mairèad says: Cultists suck. Shep's been fightin' 'em lots up in the 'ighlands, he says. 'Cept lately, 'e's been stayin' in the City 'cause the Elfie drained 'im.

Macglynn says: ... Drained 'im? Ah heard 'e got shot, didn' mention 'e were put through even more shit.

Mairèad closes the enormous tome on her lap and sets it aside, crossing her legs. "Yahar, when 'e went up to Silverpine t'fight Fersakin, I giss summun got 'urt an' the Elfie drained 'im to 'eal summun else."
Mairèad says: Like 'e were a batt'ry.

Macglynn says: ... Innerstin'. Was is a shad'uh priest? Sounds lahk th' kinna healin' they kin do. Calls it vamp'ric.
Macglynn says: ... Why'm Ah askin' you this?
Macglynn frowns.

Mairèad says: ...dunno. I jest saw y'walkin' by an' though' I'd say 'ello. An', um.
Mairèad adds in a really quiet, really fast voice, "Chad got squired'a summun."

Macglynn looks like it takes him a moment to process her statement because it was spoken so quietly, but when he finally does, his eyes widen. "He did?!" His smile broadens and is quite genuine. "D'you... know where- Hm."

Mairèad says: Redridge.
Mairèad says: 'e be trainin' in Redridge. Said the trainer thought 'e was 'orrible at fightin'...an' tha's true...but 'e were rill excited.
Mairèad smiles faintly, looking not quite as excited.

Macglynn says: Well that... that cheers me up t'hear. Thanks fer mentionin' it.

Mairèad 's smile is still pretty weak, but she nods anyway. "Don' menshun it. 'e always wan'ed t'be jest like you, y'know. Well. Minus the dead part. Good that 'e's gittin' a chance."

Macglynn says: Well na', Ah guess it's-

You raise your eyebrow inquisitively at Macglynn.

Macglynn ... doesn't say anything, ignoring the normal Cathedral Square nonsense. "Ah'm proud 'a him."

Mairèad says: I figger'd you would be. The way Aunt Addy talked 'boutchoo, the way Chad misses you, yer rill good, y'know? 'e's lucky to 'ave 'ad a Dad like you.

Macglynn smiles again. "Well maybe tell 'im fer me some tahm Ah'd actually enjoy seein' 'im."

Mairèad 's slight smile fades. "Don' fink that'll 'appen, Mr. MacGlynn. See...yer dead. An' Chadley finks you belong inna ground, y'know?" She doesn't say this rudely or cruelly, simply as a statement of fact.

Macglynn says: Ah don't think that changes th' fact any that Ah'm 'is father. If 'e'd still rather not talk t'me, Ah guess at least tell 'im Ah said hello.
Macglynn says: Would that be too much?

Mairèad frowns at this and shakes her head. "Not 'tall. When I see 'im...giss 'e'll be gone a while in Redridge..." She trails off and then, as if she can't believe she's saying it, asks, "D'you mind if I walk wiff you? Sittin's lonely t'night."

Macglynn blinks. "Ah- what? Don't have any problem with it m'self, but..."
Macglynn appears bemused.

Mairèad nods and collects the enormous tome beside her; it's about the same size as half of her and is obviously awkward for her to carry. She walks up to Mr. MacGlynn, though still standing a good piece away, and nods. " 'kay."

Macglynn turns, looking no less confused even as she's made it clear she's not kidding, and points off in the direction of the harbor. "Ah was jus' headed off in that way, uh. Lahk Ah always does. Yeah." He walks. Awkward.
Macglynn says: You, uh... studyin' there?

Mairèad , having a habit of creating awkward situations, is unphased and keeps at least six feet between her and Mr. MacGlynn at all times. "Yahar...tryin'a learn stuff so I kin be squired meself."

Macglynn says: Ain't found somebody? Why not ask th' feller what took Chadley? There was tahms Ah had more'n one.

Mairèad hugs her book more tightly to her chest. "Fink Chad wan's us to 'ave diff'rnt trainers."

Macglynn says: Diffrin' trainers! That jus' sounds lahk th' kinna bullshit excuse he'd give ta hog attention.

Mairèad shakes her head, frowning pensively. "I fink i's 'cause 'is trainer's gunna focus on fightin' an' 'e's always sucked at that. One time, 'e tried t'show me the stuff you used t'do, all the fancy moves an' shit, and 'e broke 'is ankle."
Mairèad says: An' me, well. I be a privateer. Ent got as close a connection to the Light's Chad does, but I kin use a sword.

Macglynn gives a dry wheezing sound beneath his quiet echoing laugh, obviously laughing both ways he can. "Did 'e ever try tellin' y'bout th' first tahm Ah gave 'im a sword?"

Mairèad looks as if she isn't sure whether she should laugh or not. "Not that I kin recall. What 'appened?"

Macglynn stops at the water's edge and his posture relaxes.

Mairèad is still much more tense than she usually would be, though the smell of the sea seems to overwhelm the smell of dead next to her.

Macglynn rests his thumbs on his belt, grinning. "Boy got so exahted 'e picked it up an' immediately challenged me with it by stickin' me in th' thigh."

Mairèad now laughs without meaning to, though she hastily forces her face back into something closer to a deadpan. Her eyes are still twinkling though. "Tha' sounds 'bout right. Chad an' me used t'be the palerdin pals."

Macglynn says: We tried again once th' bleedin' stopped. Ah showed 'im a few stances an' 'e fancied hisself a perfessional. Impatient, that's whut 'e was!
Macglynn says: Such good pals, hardly fair th' two 'a yah's gotta be split up, ain't it?

Mairèad plops down on the ground, crossing her legs and holding the tome close still. "We been split up fer...Light, well nigh three years now. 'Til jest 'afore Winter Veil. Hadn' seen 'im since me sixteenth birfdee."

Macglynn walks to the dock and seats himself on its ledge, propping one leg out on the dirt. "Y'know, Ah'm suprahsed we never met. Ha' long y'said y'known 'im?"

Mairèad says: I giss most 'a me life. I don' remember when we met, 'cause 'e was two an' I was jest born, but me mam brought me back t'Corin's Crossin' to show off.

Macglynn says: Who'd y'say yer mother was?

Mairèad says: Lisa Fallon.
Mairèad says: Cap'n 'a the Star's Shadow.

Macglynn looks like a lightbulb's come on. "Oh! Yeah, yeah Ah knew Lisa-- Light, Ah didn' even know she had a daughter."
Macglynn says: Huh.

Mairèad shrugs sheepishly. "Surprise. Musta been one 'a them times you were off palerdinnin' when mam brought me by."

Macglynn says: ... Must'a been.

Mairèad suddenly looks apologetic. "I'm sorreh, Mr. MacGlynn. I ent the mos' tactful, an' I don' mean t'be 'urtful. Jest... 's'weird. Like talkin' to a ghost."

Macglynn says: Ah'm sorry Ah ain't as in'erstin' as y'must'a thought Ah'd be. Ah don't normally talk t'nobody when Ah'm out walkin'.
Macglynn says: An' Ah don't think ghosts stink, so it'd be a step up.

Mairèad says: ...not thatcher not inner'stin'. Jest...well, y'ever met summun y'knew lots 'bout, butchoo didn' akshully know 'em?

Macglynn says: An' all y'can really think is t'ask 'em 'bout whut'cha a'ready know?

Mairèad nods, looking more than a little embarrassed and embarrassed for looking embarrassed. Silly Mairèad, dead people don't have -feelings-.

Macglynn only smiles because the bloating makes it look that way. Trufax.
Macglynn says: Well. He's an honest kid. Ah'm sure ever'thin' y'heard about me is true.

Mairèad says: Wasn' jest from Chad, though. The way Aunt Addy talked 'boutchoo, was like you were Uther 'imself.

Macglynn adjusts himself a bit, causing a bit of dirt to crumble from under his foot into the water. "Well- hm, there we go- eh. Ah think there's a reason Uther never 'ad a fam'ly." He pauses a moment. "Was they okay? After leavin' t'Southshore? Ah hardly know..."

Mairèad says: Aunt Addy made a good life fer 'erself. Married Mr. Fairdale...Light, musta been sumfin' like...I don' e'en know. Me mam came inna port fer it. Chad looked like this the 'ole time.
Mairèad makes a trademark Chadley deadpan face.

Macglynn says: An' they had a home an' all that? Right away?
Macglynn really shouldn't be this concerned over something that happened nine years ago.

Mairèad says: Not right'way. The reason Aunt Addy married Mr. Fairdale was 'cause she stayed wiff 'im right after it 'appened. An', well.
Mairèad shrugs and states, not unkindly but bluntly. "They started bonin'."

Macglynn makes a face that clearly shows where Chadley gets his deadpan from. "Ah guess that's... that's good."

Mairèad says: ...ent 'cause she didn' love you. Mam said she didn' smile fer months an' months later an' e'en after she married Mr. Fairdale, she'd sometimes run off an' cry, like 'round Febeeary.

Macglynn says: ... Feby'ary's when m'birthday was... an' also when we was married.
Macglynn says: Mm.

Mairèad says: ...you still cry fer 'er?

Macglynn says: Ah never had a chance to.

Mairèad says: Ha'come?

Macglynn says: When we was free, first thing was findin' a place again. Ah learned real quick 'a where she was, an' Ah saw 'er one day. She was laughin'. If Ah cried fer anybody, think it'd 'a jus' been fer m'self.
Macglynn says: But no sense in that neither.

Mairèad says: ...I mean, now that she's d-- gone.

Macglynn says: ... No.

Mairèad says: Why not?

Macglynn says: Ah couldn't say why.

Mairèad frowns thoughtfully and hugs the book tightly to her chest again before eventually standing. "Should git back to me boat or mam'll wunner whar I been. It's...it's been nice talkin' t'you, Mr. MacGlynn." Even now, she sounds surprised to say this.

Macglynn says: Think Ah may stay here a while longer. Y'stay safe. Thanks fer talkin' with me.

Mairèad looks about to say something more but changes her mind. "...Light be wiff you." And then she hurries off.

Macglynn says: And you, missy.

Mairèad & Shepard: January 7

Mairèad skids down the rockface, nearly failing to stop herself before she slides right into the water.

Shepard blinks at you.

Mairèad looks at Shepard sheepishly. "Y'weren' atcher bench an' I figgered you'd be by water somewhar, 'cause tha's whar y'go when y'wanna fink. Didja wanna be alone?"

Shepard shakes his head. "I do not mind the company. There were simply too many corpses walking around for my taste."

Mairèad says: I don' git why they hang 'round holy ground like tha'. 'Slike they like bein' in pain.
Mairèad brushes off her scraped hands on her damp trousers and inserts herself under Shepard's arm, as she typically does.

Shepard says: Hmf. It allows them to feel important, I suppose. The more they hurt themselves, the more attention they get.

Mairèad says: S'kinda dumb, people hurtin' 'emselves t'feel important. Why not jest finds summun an' become important to them, yahar?

Shepard says: Too much work.

Mairèad grins at this, poking Shepard lightly in the side. "Nawr, it ent. Yer important t'me an' y'ent done naught but sit 'ere an' let me babble atcha."

Shepard flicks an ear. "Hm. Then perhaps they simply do not wish to listen."
Shepard says: The problem may be one of vanity.

Mairèad says: Vanity? Ha' kin sumfin' what's dead be vain?

Shepard says: Apparently it is easier than we think.

Mairèad says: Mebbe they jest pertend t'be vain so they don' make i' so obby tha' they hate 'emselves.

Shepard says: Perhaps. Or maybe they just like being the darkest, hate-filled monster around. Or the most depressing. Or the most sickening.
Shepard says: I would not doubt that there are competitions to judge such things.

Mairèad wrinkles her nose. "Tha' sounds like a horr'bull way t'pass time. I'd rather be sailin' or explorin' or chattin' wiff nice people. Say, did Con go to Karazhan yet?"

Shepard says: Not that I know of. I believe he is waiting until I make the journey myself.

Mairèad says: And yer gunna, entcha? Even though you don' wanna?

Shepard grunts, scratching his mane. "More than likely."

Mairèad says: Are y'skeer'd?

Shepard says: Very.

Mairèad shifts so that her hand rests on top of Shepard's. "Whaddya fink's the wors' tha' could 'appen? Asides death, 'course."

Shepard says: Curses. Insanity. To be forever bound to the tower itself.

Mairèad says: Well. Fer curses, you kin always have summun come what kin git rid a' curses, like a priest or a mage or...kin shamans git rid 'a curses?

Shepard says: Curses forged from the Guardian's hand are of a different breed.

Mairèad says: Kin ya git summun t'pertectcha from 'em? Like mebbe a mage?

Shepard says: Most mages of our era cannot unravel what Medivh has set in place. It is why his last apprentice is still a withered old man.
Shepard says: The best defense is to simply be careful. Vigilant.

Mairèad says: Well, yer rill careful an' vigilant. If anyone kin avoid booby traps, you kin.

Shepard says: Hmf. It is not me I fear for.

Mairèad says: As fer insanity, if always hearin' all yer mem'ries over'n over ent driven you insane yet, I don' fink Medivh could come up wiff anyfin'.
Mairèad looks sideways at Shepard. "Yer a'fear'd fer Con."

Shepard flicks an ear. "Mm."

Mairèad says: Con's shortsighted in 'is werkin's, yer right. But 'e's a'ready halfway t'bein' okie fer havin' you so worried 'bout 'im.

Shepard says: Hmf. I can only do so much.

Mairèad snuggles closer to Shepard, pulling his arm around her without really thinking about it. "If y'do all you kin do and 'e still gits hurt, it ent yer fault."

Shepard 's eye twitches, but he says nothing of her arm-pulling. "I do not think I would see it that way."

Mairèad says: Why wouldn'tcha?

Shepard says: A guilt complex, I suppose.

Mairèad shifts so that she's facing Shepard more properly. "But if you do all you kin, then i' kin't be yer fault. That ent logical."

Shepard slowly nods, lips/jowls/whatever twitching into a soft smile. "And while I live by logic, there are certain things I cannot help feeling."

Mairèad says: See, I don' e'en try t'live by logic. I jest figger me 'eart's gunna beat me 'ead in the end, so might's well save meself the grief.

Shepard cranes his head. "My grandmother said something similar. Often."

Mairèad grins, trying to move enough that Shepard can avoid neck strain without dislodging herself from him. "She's a smart lady, yer Grandmam."

Shepard says: Smartest I have known so far.

Mairèad says: ...what was the ovver fin' what skeerd ya?...oh yahar, bein' stuck in Karazhan ferever. Well that ent so bad. I'll come visit!

Shepard says: Mm. Being trapped in Karazhan would imply my death, and I would be a spirit.

Mairèad says: ...I'd still come visit.
Mairèad says: An' bring ya ghost books.

Shepard says: I would rather you did not. You would be safer that way.

Mairèad moves again, now sitting properly on Shepard's lap. "I be a privateer, Shep. If it be safe, it ent worff doin'."

Shepard grumbles. "Still. I would rather you not visit. A personal request."

Mairèad says: Kin I write t'you?

Shepard says: I do not think letters would be delivered to Karazhan.

Mairèad sits back some, still on Shepard's lap but now not leaning on him. "Mebbe thar be a magic mailbox somewhar an' no matter who yer sendin' mail to, it gits delivered. Then I could write t'you."

Shepard looks up, his eyes glazing over for a moment. "... Hm. That would be an interesting invention..."

Mairèad says: An' it be owned by a mailman what's magical, too! An' 'e sings an' dances an' sails th'seven seas. 'is name'd be Edgar.

Shepard says: Edgar? Why Edgar?

Mairèad says: Why not Edgar?

Shepard says: It is not a bad name. Just seems oddly specific.

Mairèad says: Anyway. Best way to deal wiff it's simple: I'll come wiff you an' Con to Karazhan.
Mairèad folds her arms across her chest and looks pleased with herself.

Shepard blinks. "What?"

Mairèad says: Well, see, i's simple. Ha' long y'been fightin' wiff knives an' notcher claws?

Shepard says: ... A month, one week.

Mairèad says: Ah, see, I been sword fightin' since I could walk, an' if yer gunna be the brains an' Con'll be the pew-pew, then y'need summun to 'it fin's wiff a sword, yahar?

Shepard says: I... I suppose you are right.

Mairèad says: Plus, if you git 'urt, I kin fix ya.

Shepard says: You do raise a good point.
Shepard grunts. "Very well. We will take you, too."

Mairèad bounces excitedly on Shepard's lap a few times, clapping her hands. "It'll be great, you won' regret i' one bit, Shep, not one bit." She throws her arms around his neck in a big ol' gratitude hug.

Shepard grunts at the bouncing. "I hope not. I would hate to see someone injured because of my decision."

Mairèad kisses him on the cheek and shakes her head. "Nawr, I'll be fine. Plus treasure-huntin's kinda a privateer fin', after all." As she says this, she resumes her earlier, less bouncy snuggle.

Shepard glances off towards the left. "I only pray what we find is truly treasure."

Mairèad says: Mebbe we'll find sumfin' be'er'n treasure thar.

Shepard says: Mmm. Empty space would be treasure enough for me, but perhaps.

Mairèad says: What'd be be'er'n treasure fer you?

Shepard says: A tracker.

Mairèad says: A tracker?

Shepard says: Mm. Something to help me find my grandmother.

Mairèad reaches up to scratch Shepard's neck. "Still fink she'd come if y'sang fer 'er. Might take 'er a while, but she'd come."

Shepard says: Perhaps...

Mairèad continues to scratch, thoughtfully. "Dunno what'd be be'er'n treasure fer me. 'Cept booty, 'a course. I mean, me mam's gotta lotta booty, but I could use some 'a me own, righ'?"

Shepard says: Being a fully-knighted Paladin?

Mairèad says: Mm. Tha'd be good, but I wanna git thar 'cause I werked addit, no' 'cause 'a wishin'.
Mairèad laughs. "Plus Chad'd be jealous. Me scratchin' ent bovverin' you, izzit?"

Shepard chuckles quietly. "It is not, no."

Mairèad says: Good.

Shepard looks up, brows raised. "It never rains in Stormwind, does it?"

Mairèad says: Did durin' the lellumental invasions, so I 'eard.
Mairèad says: Sky'd go all grey an' dark an' then tornaders an' waves'd start batt'rin' Stormwind 'til people fought 'em off.

Shepard says: Huh. But no natural occurrences.

Mairèad says: Wunner if i's 'cause the mages keep fin's nice an' clear.
Mairèad says: ...d'you miss the rain, Shep?

Shepard says: A little. A comfort of home that I cannot seem to shake. While bleak to most, constant rain was... familiar.

Mairèad grins, closing her eyes and sighing softly, arms coming to rest around Shepard's waist again. "Kinna like the sound 'a waves an' rockin' under me feet. Don' always feel right fer th'ground to be still."

Shepard tugs on his beard, stealing a glance at Mairead. "Back home, the rain meant something special - Love had been found."

Mairèad says: Rilly? Ha' d'you mean?

Shepard says: There was a bard who roamed the beaten roads of Gilneas, singing beautiful songs of love. His words were said to shape the very world around him; when he spoke of sorrow, it would storm. When he spoke of joy, the sun's rays covered the land.
Shepard says: But for all of his skill, he could not find love for himself. Days upon days flew by as he toiled away to perfect his craft, to hopefully compose a ballad worthy of romance.

Mairèad smiles, eyes still closed, snuggling closer and giving a contented sigh.

Shepard says: Though he sang, none came to claim him. Other couples grew from his lyrics and went on to lead very happy lives. Years passed, and soon the bard grew old. Death was close.
Shepard says: Knowing this, he rewrote his own mortality and became an immortal wanderer, determined to find his true love.

Mairèad says: Did 'e?

Shepard says: Decades passed. Then centuries. Still he went wanting. One day, a young girl came along and asked, "Why don't you just write for someone to magically love you? Surely that'd be easier."

Mairèad says: Well 'cause then i' wouldn' be 'er choice.
Mairèad says: An' nobody wan's summun to love 'em 'cause they was forced ter.

Shepard says: With a smile, he simply shook his head and replied, "Because, dear child, that isn't love. That's slavery. Love must be true and honest, or else the happiness derived would be nothing but a mocking blow, over and over..."
Shepard says: "Beating at the heart without remorse."

Mairèad says: Tha's rill poetic. Was the bard Matteo Cr-- Crow-ley?

Shepard says: No. He was a man by the name of Delial Sandvark. And thanks to Mister Sandvark, every downpoar in Gilneas signified another new couple, created from his works.

Mairèad frowns, still snuggled against Shepard. "But 'e nevarrr found summun fer 'imself, didee?"

Shepard says: Not yet.

Mairèad says: Well. Mebbe when 'e does, it'll rain in Stormwind.

Shepard says: Perhaps. Or maybe the days will be peaceful, and filled with warmth. None of this chaos and bitter cold.

Mairèad sighs softly, smiling. "I ent cold na'. Ent been cold a night since I metcha."

Shepard tilts his head. "I suppose I am rather warm, thanks to the fur."

Mairèad says: Inside, I mean.

Shepard blinks. Slowly. "... Oh."

Mairèad says: Oh?

Shepard says: It is nothing.

Mairèad says: Nawr, y'said 'oh' fer some reason. Did I say sumfin' wrong?

Shepard quickly shakes his head. "You did not."

Mairèad says: Then what?

Shepard nervously stumbles over his words, his gaze focused rather intently on the water. "I- No. It is no-nothing. Ju-just... Hmf. Do not worry about it."

Mairèad says: ...okay. Hey Shep, kin I aks you sumfin' an' you promise no' t'freak out?

Shepard says: What is it?

Mairèad closes her eyes and yawns before asking, sleepily, "Do I make you warm inside, too?"

Shepard stares. STARES. At the water.

Mairèad is fading fast and snuggling closer. "She-ep?"

Shepard answers lightning quick. "Yes."

Mairèad grins sleepily, and because her player is falling asleep, becomes narcoleptic. "Mmm. Good."

Senkha & Dizzy: January 6

Senkha hesitates before knocking on Dizzy's door. "Monkey? You awake in there?"

Ariadine turns her head on her pillow to look at the door, her voice is tired and faint. "Yeah..."

Senkha pushes the door open just enough to slip through and sits on the end of the bed, reaching over to pat Dizzy's side gently. "How you feeling? Is it-- " Asking if it's getting better seems superfluous, so Senkha just leaves the question there.

Ariadine lays on her bed, jsut blankly staring at the ceiling. Her eyes have dark circles under them and her hair is an unbrushed mess. She obviously hasn't slept well or taken any care of herself in the past few days.
Ariadine says: ... 'm countin' th' time between each fade-away. 's abou' ev'ry five hours now.
Ariadine 's expression is just a tired, and resigned grimace.

Senkha nods understandingly, standing to take a brush from Dizzy's bedside table. "C'mere, let me brush your hair for you," she says quietly, more an attempt at some normalcy than anything else. "I read something today."

Ariadine slowly gets up from her side and crawls to sit in front of Senkha, "Really?"

Senkha begins to slowly and gently work the tangles out of Dizzy's hair. "I thought it might help you...it was in that big book that Grampa Marius gave me, the one that taught me how to fix brains."
Senkha says: It said that sometimes, bad things that happen to people can make it so that there's two people in one body...two personalities, sort of. Does that sound about right?

Ariadine nods slightly, "S'ppose it does..." A weak smile spreads across her face, the simple comfort of getting her hair brushed was a nice feeling. Especially coming from her mother. "Can I get fixed?"

Senkha sighs quietly at this. "Yes. But Dizzy...the thing is that I can't fix you. The only person who can fix you is you...but you -can- fix yourself." She moves onto the next section of hair, still brushing gently.

Ariadine 's shoulders sag at this, "...Jus' so tired."

Senkha leans forward to kiss the back of Dizzy's head. "I know, baby. I know it's exhausting. Somewhere in your mind, though, there's someone who can help you. If...if the other girl takes over and you can't get back, you need to find that helper."

Ariadine smiles weakly, and her voice squeaks slightly as she replies. "I have a helper?"

Senkha nods, moving on to another section of hair. "You do, just like I do and just like Daddy does. I imagine your helper...your Guardian...isn't too happy with the other girl."

Ariadine scowls, "No one is happy with her." she slowly leans back against Senkha. "So... when I do go. I can get back maybe?"

Senkha stops brushing Dizzy's hair and wraps her arms around her daughter's shoulders, holding her close. "Yes. You can. You are strong enough to get back and make the other girl go away forever, if you want."
Senkha says: But it's a strength you have to find yourself...I can't find it for you.

Ariadine sinks into her mother's arms, a hopeful smile spreading across her face. "I will try my hardest. I don't want t'let you down anymore..."

Senkha looks surprised at this, frowning at Dizzy. "You don't let me down, Monkey. You never let me down. I...sometimes I'm afraid of loving you too much because I'm afraid of how much it would hurt to lose you, but you never let me down."

Ariadine says: 'm afraid of what she will do t'you 'n Daddy. Don't want you t'look at me any diff'rent 'r forget what I really am when I am gone.

Senkha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "You know I could never forget you. And I know who you really are. I always will. And I know that you'll always fight to come back to us."
Senkha says: Just like I'll always fight to find you. Just like Daddy will always fight for both of us.

Ariadine says: I love you so much Momma. Y'gave me everything I ever could need 'r want and now something that 's me but not me is ruining it all and hurting you an' Daddy an' everyone I loved an'--
Ariadine says: ... If I came back... would y'ever look at me th'same?

Senkha hugs Dizzy more tightly. "When you come back, yes. You will always be my babygirl, no matter what happens. Nothing and nobody can change that or take it away. I promise."

Ariadine turns in Senkha's arms to return the hug. Her small shoulders shudder under Senkha's grasp as she begins to cry. The full on I've been holding this in for a week fml kind of cry. Because seriously, fuck their lives.

Senkha holds Dizzy close and tight, kissing the top of her head and smoothing her hair down. "We'll get through this, Dizz. We will. I have faith in you, and you know that Daddy and I will never give up."
Senkha says: No matter what happens, we will always find you, and I know you'll always find a way back to us. That's what love does.

Ariadine 's crying slowly comes to an end. Curling her fingers into Senkha's vest and nestles her head against Senkha's chest. Ha, free boobage. "Okay."

Senkha continues to hold Dizzy close, resting her cheek against the girl's hair. "No matter what anyone tells you and no matter what happens, remember that you're stronger than you think you are. You can control your mind. You can beat this back."
Senkha says: And someday, maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, you will.

Ariadine nods, "I promise t'win." She looks up at her mother and smiles. "'s almost time again, gonna fade-out."

Senkha smiles back at Dizzy and kisses her forehead. "I promise that you'll come back, no matter what. I know that you're my strong, beautiful girl, and I will always love you."

Ariadine smiles, "I love you Momma."

Senkha smiles at this and kisses the top of Dizzy's head again. "I love you, too, Monkey. No matter what."

Ariadine crawls off of Senkha's lap and resumes her laying down position in bed. "I taught Daddy t'braid his hair, y'know. You should ask him to braid your hair."

Senkha laughs quietly, sitting back on the bed and touching her hair lightly. "So he told me. I'll ask him, but I think it'll be better if you do it when you come back. Deal?"

Ariadine closes her eyes, "Deal. Need t'get more ribbons for his hair. He needs one that ain't green..." Her voice trails off until her small form goes limp for another blackout.

Senkha's smile fades as Dizzy's form goes limp. She stands and leans forward, pressing her lips against the girl's forehead. "I swear to you, Dizzy, you can fight this. Don't listen to her lies. You're more powerful than you know."