Mairèad & Shepard: April 11

Mairèad plops down cross-legged and immediately starts removing her heavier pieces of armor. Who needs pauldrons way the heck out here?

Shepard tugs on his beard after the walk they took to get here. Yes. "I should consider building a cabin here."

Mairèad says: Could I stay thar sometimes?

Shepard says: Sure. Not like many people know about this spot.

Mairèad shifts, once she's removed enough of her armor, and lies down on her stomach. "...'m glad fer that. I like it bein' kind of a secret."

Shepard says: Only other person who probably knows is Conobar, and I doubt he'll be showing his face around anytime soon.
Shepard says: I think the beatings have something to do with it.

Mairèad wrinkles her nose. "Good. Not that 'e ent a good person inside, but 'e needs t'grow th'fuck up."

Shepard says: That's like telling the sun it shouldn't rise.

Mairèad says: Nawr, if you kin grow up an' I kin grow up, so kin Con. Jest needs t'lose what 'e values most.

Shepard flicks an ear. He leans forward, stretching, a small smile forming. "I guess that's what I'm trying to do. Grow."

Mairèad says: Shep, did sumfin' 'appen what madejoo decide t'go an' study in Dalaran?

Shepard straightens. "You could say that."

Mairèad says: ...d'you wanna talk 'bout it or should I jest not ask?

Shepard says: ...has to do with my memory. I'm going to try fixing it.
Shepard says: Or... no. Alter it.

Mairèad says: Alterin'? Ha'd you alter yer mem'ry?

Shepard says: Like I said, it's a long story. Has to do with my blood, my family...

Mairèad smiles up at Shepard, scooting closer so that she can rest her cheek against his leg. "I got time."

Shepard says: I imagine so. Well. Let's see.
Shepard says: I've never told you about the Garhelm line, have I? It goes all the way back to the first group of Humans that learned magic.

Mairèad grins and shakes her head. "Tha's yer...yer dad, righ'? Yer gramma's Alma Lovells, yahar? An' then Grrrrrhelm's like..." She pauses and says in a carefully neutral tone, "Nialos."

Shepard says: Yes. Ever since that first connection, that first spark, every Garhelm has been a mage.

Mairèad says: All 'a them?

Shepard says: They'd even only take another practioner as a husband or wife.
Shepard says: So. Yes. Every single one. That is, until Nialos.

Mairèad says: What 'appened to 'im? Ha'come 'e ent a mage?
Mairèad says: ...well. 'asides bein' dead, 'a course.

Shepard says: He doesn't talk about it much. I don't even think he knows.
Shepard says: His parents never taught him; they never even brought the subject up, from what I can tell. He was free to do what he wanted.

Mairèad says: Lucky.

Shepard says: He was quite literally the black sheep of the family after hundreds of years.
Shepard says: Hundreds of years of spells and charms and... you get the point.

Mairèad chuckles, touching Shepard's hand gently. "If it means y'git to be yerself an' 'ave no pressure on you t'be a mage...mebbe that'd be worff bein' a black sheep."

Shepard says: Anyway. All that magic just- it seeped into the blood. Became part of it.

Mairèad says: So i's in yer blood, too?

Shepard says: Yes. Just like my father, Nialos, my great-grandfather...

Mairèad says: Does that mean yer a mage?

Shepard winces, barely, but shakes his head. "Not really, no."
Shepard says: The blood isn't what makes the Garhelm a mage. But it does grant... 'perks'.

Mairèad says: Like what? Stamina?
Mairèad grins devilishly.

Shepard says: My memory, for one. Nialos apparently had will built like a steel trap, up until his death.

Mairèad says: ...yahar, that clears up a lot 'bout 'im. Is yer mem'ry from th'blood, then?

Shepard nods.
Shepard says: From what I gather, it's a subconscious effort.

Mairèad says: ...wait, so yer mind akshully -tries- to remember erryfin'?

Shepard says: We 'form' the incantation through our desire, and then... it activates.
Shepard says: Try? It does.
Shepard says: Just... does.

Mairèad says: No, but I mean on purpose.
Mairèad says: Like...
Mairèad touches Shepard's hand again. "I din' try t'touch yer 'and. I did touch yer 'and. But I did it on purpose. Is it like that?"

Shepard nods.
Shepard says: I wanted to learn everything I could, to devour knowledge. Nialos... from what I gather, he wanted to hold the world up on his shoulders so that no on else had to.
Shepard says: It always relates to what we want most.

Mairèad looks very sad, suddenly, about being mean to Nialos. But he's still a jerk.
Mairèad says: Hmm. What if y'wanted love most? What'd it do then?
Mairèad says: ...not romannicull love. Jest...love.

Shepard says: Hah, it'd probably gift me with a silver tongue. Able to charm anyone into loving me.
Shepard says: But, that's the catch.
Shepard says: Each perk has a downside.
Shepard says: It's never -just- a boon.

Mairèad says: Y'sure y'din' want love most? 'Cause y'seem to 'ave no trouble attractin' errybody in Stormwind.

Shepard says: That's not exactly hard.

Mairèad says: Not fer a bloke.

Shepard says: Flash a smile, do something good, tell a joke. Voila, you're wanted.

Mairèad says: ...so y'know. Tha's not ha'come I...well. That ent me reasonin'.

Shepard says: Yeah, yeah. I'm sure there's other reasons. Who could resist the cold nose?
Shepard says: The devilish glint in my glowing eyes.

Mairèad shifts and pokes Shepard under the arm. "Yahar, git all funneh when we talk 'bout feelin's. Tell me more 'bout th'blood. Yer lookin' to undo th'incantashun, entchoo?"

Shepard grins, looking positively... roguish. "That's the plan."
Shepard says: Does mean I'll have to pick up a few tricks, though.

Mairèad says: Like what?

Shepard says: For one, actual magic.
Shepard taps the ground, conjuring a small burst of flame. "I know a little - Maria taught me during the monthly visits."

Mairèad says: Maria's yer mam?

Shepard says: Mm.

Mairèad says: So you'll learn more magic. What else?

Shepard says: I'll alter my memory. Make it more manageable. That's about it, really.

Mairèad says: Will you fergit stuff?

Shepard says: I will, yes. Things I want to forget, if I don't botch the attempt.

Mairèad says: But thar's a chance you'll fergit fin's like...like fin's you like.
Mairèad adds, more quietly, "Fin's you love."

Shepard 's right brow twitches. "Yes. There's always that chance."

Mairèad chews her lower lip and sighs quietly, snuggling a little bit closer. "I 'ope y'don' mess up, then."

Shepard says: Me? Mess up? Perish the thought.

Mairèad smiles a little bit, looking up at Shepard again. "I 'ave faith in you an' faith in th'Light t'preserve you. I know you won' evarrr fergit Alma."

Shepard says: Now that. Is true without a doubt.
Shepard says: You'd have to pry that memory from my cold, rotten corpse. And even then, I'd bite.
Shepard says: And I bite hard, you know.

Mairèad can't help but grin wickedly at this, though she hesitates a moment before asking, "...wouldjoo fergit me?"

Shepard says: I gave you the name Straps for a reason.

Mairèad 's smile grows a little larger; she rolls onto her back to look up at Shepard, arms resting above her head. "Not jest physically stickin' witchoo, then."

Shepard throws his head back, cackling - much like Wilhiem would. When he calms down, he looks down to Mairead with a smile. "Mairead, I think you'd -make- me remember you."

Mairèad says: I'd sure's 'ell try...kin't imagine a worse kinda hell'n summun you love more'n th'world not rememb'rin' you.
Mairèad says this with an uncharacteristically grave expression.

Shepard says: I'll be careful, Mairead. Dalaran's got the best in the business, after all. If they can't help, there's no other way.

Mairèad drops one hand to rest against Shepard's, not exactly holding. "I know. I got faith in you. Jest...skeery, too, innit?"
Mairèad says: I'll look after yer estate, though.
Mairèad says: An' you'll be back fer me ordinashun, yahar?

Shepard says: Wouldn't miss it for anything. Unless I blow myself up.
Shepard says: Eh, I'd be there in spirit.

Mairèad says: ...please don' blow yerself up. I'd rather have alla you 'stead 'a jest, like, a finger.

Shepard says: What if the finger talked? Magic's tricky like that.

Mairèad says: Finger's still not warm 'nuff. It'd 'afta be a fuggin' 'uge finger.

Shepard says: Fine. How about my chest?

Mairèad says: Not warm if yer not innit.

Shepard says: ... My magically enchanted chest.

Mairèad chuckles and shakes her head. "All'r nuffin', love."

Shepard snorts. "You do know that Mages -can- create mirror images of themselves, right?"
Shepard says: For all you know, I could be in two places at once.

Mairèad says: Those uzhully fade, though.

Shepard says: You'd enjoy it, anyway, I think.
Shepard says: Up to three more of me? Light, Stormwind would tremble.

Mairèad says: I fink that'd be too much fer me. I ent nevarrr 'ad four at o-- I mean. No. Fergit I said that.
Mairèad rolls back over onto her stomach and hides her face in the grass. Her ears? So red.

Shepard looks down, gently flicking one of said ears. He takes caution not to cut her because of the, well, claws. "Forget what?"

Mairèad smiles (not that he can see it) and says, "...thanks, Shep. That part 'a me past ent sumfin' I'm rilly proud 'a, no matter 'ow much I tell Bryn 'bout it."

Shepard says: ...about what?

Mairèad huffs a sigh against the grass. "...yer gunna freeze up an' freak out if I tell you," she points out, raising her index finger to point at him, almost accusingly.

Shepard says: Does it actually involve me in any way?

Mairèad says: Onleh 'cause 'a whar me mind went when I imagined four 'a you.
Mairèad says: ...Light's sake, 'm like a bloke.

Shepard says: I'm confused.

Mairèad says: Was jest gunna say...ent nevarrr 'ad four blokes at once 'afore. Y'know, like...-that-.
Mairèad now covers her ears and head with her arms.

Shepard says: Like... that. What?

Mairèad says: Sexshully.

Shepard says: Oh. ... Really?

Mairèad says: Yahar.

Shepard says: Huh. Okay then.
Shepard 's left eye twitches, and his ears flick for a few moments. Other than that, he's fine.

Mairèad says: ...that dun' bother you?

Shepard says: It doesn't really have anything to do with me, so...

Mairèad decides against clarifying further. "Okie, tha's good. Jest...wun' sure, y'know? Din' wanna...well. Make you uncomftubble."

Shepard says: I already know about your 'colorful' experiences, Mairead. You've shared as much. That was... new, but nothing too bad.
Shepard says: Now, if you had gone into detail? Then there might have been a problem.
Shepard deadpans. "I hear enough just by sitting at the bench."

Mairèad says: I won' go inna detail. Ent impor'nt, I giss, 'cept that i's...well, yer lucky, Shep.

Shepard says: Very lucky. The luckiest man alive, maybe. ... Why am I lucky?

Mairèad says: Well 'cause. I's like...once y'start doin' it, you don' stop wantin' it, e'en if y'know i's bad fer you. Giss tha's why fin's moved s'fast wiff Luke.

Shepard shrugs, snorting. "And that's why I'm lucky? You're the first to say that."
Shepard says: Mostly it's "we're taking you to a brothel right now" or "I'm always here if you need me".
Shepard says: Such -giving- people in Stormwind.

Mairèad laughs and shakes her head, rolling back onto her back again. "Well, I mean. Yahar, folks're like that, but it ent as good, rilly, when yer jest doin' it 'cause it feels good. Leaves you feelin' empty after."
Mairèad says: An' then y'wanna do it s'more.
Mairèad says: I've 'eard that ent th'case when i's wiff summun y'love, which I giss means I din' rilly like Luke all that much.

Shepard says: ...he's bionic. Nothing natural about him at all.

Mairèad says: ...you 'ave wanked 'afore, right? I mean. Don' mean t'pry, jest makin' sure y'ent bionic, too.

Shepard says: Have I what?
Shepard lifts a brow.

Mairèad says: Wanked.
Mairèad says: ...y'know. Jacked off?
Mairèad says: Rubbed one out?

Shepard stares blankly, eyes twitching. "...ah. That." A cough. A fit of coughs, actually.

Mairèad looks up at Shepard curiously, albeit somewhat apologetically.

Shepard looks at his surroundings. "Well, what a nice ni-yes- night it is."

Mairèad says: So tha'ssa yes.

Shepard says: Hm, what? Didn't say anything.

Mairèad rolls back onto her stomach, laughing softly. "Sorreh I asked. I jest like you better bein' 'uman's all."
Mairèad says: Well.
Mairèad says: Relatively.

Shepard says: Yes, well. Wellll. Erm.
Shepard says: ...look at that ocean!

Mairèad shakes her head and pats Shepard on the hand. "I's a'righ'. You don' 'afta talk 'bout it t'me. I unnerstand. An' i's beautiful, always 'as been."

Shepard says: It's not- I- It's just-

Mairèad raises an eyebrow at Shepard. "What is it?"

Shepard narrows an eye, looking to Mairead. "How do you 'talk' about -that-? What's there to even -say-?"

Mairèad says: ...'bout wankin', y'mean? I was jest askin' if y'evarrr did it.
Mairèad says: I don' fink thar's much t'talk 'bout besides that. Boys picture nekkid girls. Girls create elab'ritt scenarios in their 'eads 'bout romannicull sitcheeashuns. We all feel better afters.

Shepard says: Sounds like what I do- for stories, mind you. Stories.

Mairèad says: ...you picture nekkid girls?

Shepard says: What? No. The situations thing.

Mairèad says: Butchoo don' jerk off t'those sitcheeashuns.

Shepard says: No. No I don't.

Mairèad says: Thank th'Light fer that. Some 'a yer stories're jest creepy.
Mairèad says: An' tha's good fer stories.
Mairèad says: But...nots'much fer wankin'.

Shepard says: Yes, I'm aroused by the sounds of tortured souls screaming for peace, or the smell of battle and blood.

Mairèad says: Well. Y'are kinna peculiar. But tha's what makes you loveable.