Selvaggia & Lius: May 9

Selvaggia says: -Are- you alright? Obviously you're not going to be the happiest after spending a night being stabbed, but...
Selvaggia lets her voice trail off, chewing on her lower lip and fiddling with her rings as she speaks.

Lius sighs, running a hand across his face. "Th'time apart is jus' startin' t'get t'me."

Selvaggia lowers her eyes. "I miss you, too. Hell's bells, if not for Garrett, you know I'd be with you no matter where you went."

Lius shakes his head, staring straight ahead. "It's nae as easy t'get int' th'Division as it woul' be back in Vigil. Specially now tha' th'Sarn't is heading up recruitment."

Selvaggia says: Don't you need medics and medical assistants? I work better with you than anyone you'd have to train for the position.

Lius says: It's nae m'place to call. We 'ave a child, an' ye donae 'ave th'combat experience t'drop int' a fight in cloth.
Lius says: At leas' th'pirate hooker has armor t'save 'er ass when she fucks up.

Selvaggia says: Isn't that what training is for? I've never dropped before, but I'm not exactly a slow learner. You know this. And Garrett... we've plenty of family he could stay with.
Selvaggia is trying so hard not to sound like a horrible mother. Baby? What baby?

Lius says: -Every- drop migh' as well be a suicide mission. Ye'd really leave Garrett withou' both parents?

Selvaggia folds her arms across her chest to hide her shaking hands. "Well, the alternative you seem to be implying is simply unacceptable."

Lius remains sternfaecd. "In yer eyes. Leavin' our son withou' bother parents is nae somethin' we can do."

Selvaggia says: And leaving us by ourselves, that's so much better?

Lius says: Fer him it is, an' tha' is wha' matters.
Lius says: I cannae simply walk away from this, Selvie.

Selvaggia says: And I can't simply -let- you walk away from this -family-, Lius.

Lius says: Ye donae 'ave a choice, neither do I. This is wha' th'Alliance needs of me.

Selvaggia says: The Alliance needs you to leave your wife? I've no -qualms- with you being sent on missions for long periods of time, but to simply leave and not look back?

Lius says: Wha' time am I able t'spend at home, Selvie?
Lius says: One of -two- medics.
Lius says: I donae get leave, neither does Aveta. We 'ave t'remain with th'troops, because of shit like wha' happened t'me.
Lius says: Wha' happened t'Afterburn.
Lius says: Wha' happened t'Orgo.

Selvaggia says: You are in -Stormwind- right now, Lius.
Selvaggia says: All of that happened -here-.

Lius says: Exactly, an' our home is nae short trip away.

Selvaggia says: There's no reason that Garrett and I can't have an apartment in the city and get to see you when they let you sleep.

Lius says: So tha' people can find out who m'wife is, an' tha' she is in th'city? Nae.
Lius says: Ye'll both end up dead.

Selvaggia says: If people haven't figured out yet that I'm your wife, they are, quite frankly, too daft to pose any real threat.

Lius shakes his head. "Do wha' ye will, Selvie. There is somethin' yer goin' t'ave t'accept in time, love, as much as it hurts. We will be droppin' by next week."
Lius says: Think on it while 'm gone.

Selvaggia unfolds her arms and grabs Lius by the tabard. Smoke wisps up from where her hands catch. "Let me make this entirely clear to you, Lius Brethil: you are -not- leaving me. I don't -care- about the danger and the separation or any of the other excuses you're using to justify this to yourself. -Everyone- else in my life has left me. Everyone else is dead or hates me. I will -not- lose you as well."

Lius glares, a little bit snapping in dat brane. "There's reasons o'my own, aye. I seem t'be focused on keepin' our son safe, an' makin' sure 'e still 'as atleast one parent in th'future, an' ye seem t'be focused on yerself. As usual."

Selvaggia 's eyes narrow significantly. "I'm focused on this family. Us staying together with you going on drops won't deprive Garrett of both parents and has a high chance of not even depriving him of one. You -aren't- doing us any favors by running away so you don't have to miss us or so that you can feel like a bloody -hero-."

Lius says: A high chance, Selvie? REALLY? Because I almos' fuckin' died las' night, an' tha' was nae even on a drop. If ye'd stop bein' so fuckin' selfish abou' every little thin', ye'd see tha' I am tryin' t'HELP ye an' m'son.

Selvaggia 's grip on his tabard tightens; dat smoke gets smokier. "I am -allowed- to be selfish when my husband decides that he wants to up and leave without even -talking- to me about it! This isn't -helping-, no matter what you think. This is running away because you're afraid and because you hurt. And if you're being attacked not even on drops, what's you going away going to change, hmm? Do you think that's going to make things any better?"

Lius says: Do ye understand 'ow often these people go after family?

Selvaggia says: AND HOW IS THAT GOING TO CHANGE IF YOU LEAVE US?
Selvaggia says: Garrett is still your -son-! And unless you've decided that you don't love me anymore, if they want to hurt you, they'll -still- come after us.

Lius says: They'd 'ave t'find ye firs', which woul' be far easier t'do if ye live in fuckin' -Stormwind-.

Selvaggia says: We don't exactly make a secret of where we live anyway, and besides, isn't this noble enemy of yours the -thane- of Darkshire, which is -right down the fucking road-?
Selvaggia says: Who was it last night, then? Was it the Delahan Division? The Twilight's Hammer? Some strange mafia that's taking over the streets now?

Lius says: Ye think tha' band of fuckups is the problem?
Lius says: We strike out against enemies I cannae even speak of, nae t'anyone tha' is nae a Ghost.
Lius says: The Delihams are a joke in comparison.
Lius says: An' I donae remember las' nigh'. Faronne said it was a bandit.

Selvaggia says: And you somehow think that leaving us is going to make this -easier- or -less dangerous-?
Selvaggia says: Open your bloody eyes. Look around. Half of Westfall is a -crater-. There -is- no safe place any longer.
Selvaggia says: And if these people you go after are the threat you say they are? It won't matter if I change my name to Petunia Pipsqueak and go live in Northrend. They will hunt us down to get at you.
Selvaggia says: And frankly, if that is the case, I'd rather live the last months of my life -with- my husband instead of with him pretending he's nobler than he is.

Lius brings his hand up to his head. "Yer husband is fading. An' honestly, one of th'things tha' ties in t'this, is I'm nae sure ye can make th'needed change with me."

Selvaggia says: Needed change? Fading?

Lius says: Are ye nae tired of only 'aving ME as a friend, Selvie?
Lius says: I get hurt, an' people in th'Division donae a give a shit because of how we are.

Selvaggia 's frown deepens. "So we stop being so angry and bitter at the people whose lives depend on you and on whose lives you depend. I'm not exactly the social pariah that you think; caring for an infant makes it rather difficult to get out and socialize."

Lius raises a hand to his ear, his eyes rolling.
Lius says: We'll talk more in a bit, Captain says 'e 'as somethin' t'talk t'me about.

[Lius walks off, leaving Selvie to bawwww]

Lius says: Well.

Selvaggia is surrounded by several charred rat corpses. Her face is tear-streaked but otherwise impassive. "Well."

Lius says: I am now th'Medical Officer.

Selvaggia says: Congratulations.

Lius flops back, not looking too pleased about his promotion. "So wha' do we do?"

Selvaggia looks up at Lius, clearly in agony. "You're asking me now? You -know- what I want to do. I'm with you, Doc... for better or for worse. Isn't that what we promised?"

Lius says: I am tryin' t'do th'right thing, 'ere.
Lius says: After we actually deploy, do ye know 'ow rare it will be tha' I get t'see ye?
Lius looks upset. This is a first.

Selvaggia also looks upset, tears starting to track again. "I'd rather take those rare times than never. I'd rather fight and try than give up simply because there's a risk involved."

Lius says: A risk? It's inevitable. Do ye think we're called wha' we are jus' because it fuckin' sounds cool?

Selvaggia says: Obviously, it's not inevitable. Haven't you deployed already? Haven't you been fighting trolls? Isn't that where my birthday gift came from?

Lius says: An' every time I 'ave nearly died. At some point, tha' arrow isnae goin' t'miss.

Selvaggia says: We all -die- eventually, Lius. Even if I don't come with you, your death would probably kill me, unless you've forgotten.

Lius shakes his head, pulling his mask up. FUCK EMOTION. "Yer bein' hard headed, an' I am tryin' t'do th'right thin'."

Selvaggia moves across the way and pulls Lius' mask down. "You're hurting me. This isn't the right thing. Don't you trust me to be able to protect myself or at least -learn- to? Don't you think that if anything came after Garrett, it wouldn't be more than a pile of ash before it came within three steps of him? And do you honestly think that you leaving is going to convince anyone that you don't care... that you don't still love us?"

Lius says: It woul' make ye less of a target, less of a factor.

Selvaggia says: It wouldn't. You're not -that- good of an actor. And even if you claimed to hate me, to want nothing to do with me, nobody would believe for a second that you felt that way about Garrett.
Selvaggia says: It's too fast of a switch. It would look too suspicious.

Lius says: I donae know wha' is left t'discuss, doll. Jus'...time, I guess. We'll see wha' happens. As I said, we deploy next week.

Selvaggia looks at Lius almost sternly, though her firmness can't stop those tears. She looks absolutely pitiful. "Do you honestly -want- to leave me?" she asks in a hoarse whisper.

Lius sighs, dropping his head to his hands. "I need t'change, Selvie. I -need- to."

Selvaggia slips off the bench and drops to her knees, resting her head on Lius' lap whether he wants her there or not. "Why do you think that having me in your life would stop that? Why do you think I wouldn't change with you?"
Selvaggia says: I -love- you. I have for nearly a year. You made me feel like I belong somewhere. If you need to change, I'll change with you. That's what marriage is.

Lius says: I cannae ask ye t'change, Selvie. Ye 'ave t'do tha' on yer own.

Selvaggia says: You're my husband. If anyone has a right to ask me to change, you do. And why do you seem to think I'm so averse to the idea?
Selvaggia says: I've been versed in societal graces since I was very young. I know how to be polite and friendly and typically manage it.

Lius shrugs, doing his best to be LIUS about the whole situation. "I drop soon, an' when an' if I return, we will see where we stand."

Selvaggia says: You didn't answer my question.

Lius says: I didn't.

Selvaggia looks up at Lius. "Then please do, and if this time before you drop is going to be the last time we have, please at least do me the kindness of making it a sweet memory."

Lius only smiles, tilting her head up to go in for a kiss.

Selvaggia leans fully into the kiss, arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she'll never let go.

Lius pulls his head away. "Ye 'ave yer memory. I 'ave t'report in, now."

Selvaggia drops back, stunned, as if she's been slapped in the face. She doesn't say anything; just stares at Lius in naked disbelief.

Lius says: Jus' remember, I am nae leavin'. I am droppin'. When I return, we can speak withou' tha' looming over my head.

Selvaggia still looks stunned, pained even. She nods slowly. "I won't change my mind," she says quietly.

Senkha & Chadley: May 4

Chadley sets himself down on a bench, his book and belongings neatly placed at his side. He gives a curt nod to the woman on the next bench over, but seems content to not interact further.

Senkha is a woman in agony. She is holding onto her right leg with one hand while puffing furiously on a pipe of something with the other, as if it's meant to help.

Chadley lowers his head and a light comes to his hands. Under his breath, he begins to mutter a prayer, the shimmer beginning to expand. What looks almost like a shield of Light forms and holds around his entire body. This lasts all of three seconds before abruptly dropping. He turns his head and stares at Senkha.

Senkha is too busy puffing away to notice. Tears of pain are streaming down her cheeks, and her hands are shaking pretty violently. Every so often, she tries to close her eyes as if concentrating on something, but it doesn't really work longer than the bubble.

Chadley 's hands lower and he quietly says, "... Miss? Do you need assistance?"

Senkha swallows hard, not looking up at Chadley; if she recognizes him in any way, she gives no indication. "...how are you at suppressing pain?" she asks through gritted teeth, giving a quiet sob.

Chadley gets up from his seat, leaving his stuff behind, and walks over to the crying woman. His steps favor his left leg, and when he reaches her, he gets to his knees in front of her. "Well enough. May I?"

Senkha finally catches sight of Chadley properly as he approaches, though her face still shows no signs of recognition. "Of course. You're a healer?" she asks, her voice somewhat choked.

Chadley nods, holding his hands up so they hover just a few inches above her right leg. "I am. A break, though, I'm not sure I can mend. But I can maybe help the pain..."

Senkha nods, gritting her teeth. "It's actually part of a m-mending... longterm. They broke it again to enable it to heal pr- properly."

Chadley closes his eyes, another string of prayer under his breath. He interrupts to say, "Be still a moment," and his hands rest on her thigh. The Light returns, coiling down and around his arms and directly into the most painful point of the break, her whole leg taking a soft glow.

Senkha stiffens at first before relaxing as the glow envelops her leg. Her breathing slowly begins to steady and the shaking in her hands stops.

Chadley 's eyes remain pressed shut. He speaks, his voice tense with concentration, the Light still pouring into her shattered leg. "When I stop, your pain will return, but should hopefully be dulled. Ready yourself."

Senkha nods and takes a big puff from her pipe in preparation. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth.

Chadley pulls his hands away, a pale glow leaving his eyes as he opens them and looks up at her. Before her leg loses its illumination he gives a quick jerk of his fingers and a blessing is cast, giving her strength. "I hope that helps." He stands, dusting his knees off. "I only just learned how to do that."

Chadley gives a sheepish grin to the woman, his stance again slowly shifting to favor his left leg.

Senkha groans softly as the pain returns, though it is fortunately dulled by the blessing. "Did you now? Are you a squire, then? You're very good."

Chadley nods, glancing back to his seat. "I am. And I'm glad I could help." He bows slightly. "If you'll pardon me, I need to sit."
Chadley almost steps on the cockroach, tripping as it skitters under his feet. "Agh!"

Senkha laughs quietly and then hisses as Chadley almost trips over the cockroach. "Oh, I'm sorry! Wally, c'mere. Don't get underfoot." The roach skitters up under her shoulderpiece. "Go ahead and sit. Light knows I understand what that's like."

Chadley looks at her like she's insane. "Wait, it's yours? You keep it as a -pet-? That's..." He keeps walking to his seat, dropping down and finishing, "... kind of disgusting."

Senkha says: He was my best companion when I served in Icecrown. I'm fairly certain that roaches are the only creatures on the face of this world that can eat Blight and not die, so he was good to have on hand.

Chadley looks down at the cockroach like it might begin spewing blight itself. His nose wrinkles in disgust. "You served in Icecrown?" Subject change!

Senkha nods, carefully shifting her shoulderpiece so that Wally is no longer visible. "I was part of several mercenary groups up there. I even did some work inside the Citadel itself, though nothing too terrifying."

Chadley says: I'd have loved to serve on the medical team on the Citadel floor. They stuck me back at the Argent Vanguard. Was it exciting, in there?

Senkha says: I don't know that "exciting" is quite the word I'd use. It was terrifying lots of the time... the Lich King's very best, all determined to turn us into little more than a pile of goo. Which... well, I suppose that's exciting, but not in the best way.
Senkha says: It's a shame you were stuck back at the Vanguard. We could've used a healer like you.

Chadley smiles faintly. Ego boost! But he shakes his head. "No, they were probably right. I think one ghoul from there would be enough to do someone like me in."

Senkha leans back, gently rubbing her leg to assuage the pain and puffing away at her pipe. "Mm, if you were with the best fighters, the ghouls wouldn't have given you a second glance. Some of the best paladins I knew fought on the front lines and kept the rest of us from getting a single scratch." She gives Chadley a friendly smile.

Chadley smiles too. "I hope for that to be me someday. Up there stopping people from being hurt, instead of just numbing their pain." He gestures to her leg.

Senkha's smile becomes sympathetic. "I know the feeling. Ever since this happened," she pats her leg, "I've been chomping at the bit, dying to get back to fighting. Light-willing, this treatment will work."

Chadley says: I'd have not taken you for a fighter at first glance. Is that how you were injured? In battle?

Senkha says: I wish. The short version is that I managed to make myself some powerful enemies and one of them had a dragon.

Chadley blinks at you.

Senkha says: --I'm blessed to be alive.

Chadley says: Somebody had it out for you that much?
Chadley says: Are you important or something?

Senkha laughs and shakes her head. "Light, I certainly don't think so. Until recently, I was nothing but a business owner and retired fighter. Apparently, though, I attracted attention."

Chadley says: How'd you go about doing that?

Senkha says: It's...something of a long story, really. I'm not entirely sure I understand now.
Senkha says: Even after all this time.

Chadley says: I'll not press, then.
Chadley says: -- My name is Chadley, by the way.

Senkha says: It's good to meet you, Chadley. You can call me Sennie... most of my remaining family does.

Chadley inclines his head. "Interesting name. A pleasure."

Senkha says: The pleasure is mine. Are you from Stormwind, Chadley?

Chadley says: No. I'm actually from the North. Eastern Lordaeron, then Southshore. Kinda getting chased more and more South as I go.

Senkha says: Really? I'm from Lordaeron as well. Andorhal.
Senkha says: When did you leave Southshore? It must've been a while ago if you were serving in Northrend.

Chadley says: I can tell from your accent. And- a little over two years ago, now. I was sixteen when I left to provide my skills as a medic.

Senkha says: It's a good thing you left. All sorts of bad luck's befallen Southshore, just this past year or so.
Senkha says: My family lived there before it was besieged by orcs in the second war.

Chadley 's hand twitches. "I'm well aware of what's befallen Southshore in this recent year."

Senkha cringes. "Light, I'm sorry. It's... not much fun to lose your home. I'm sorry."

Chadley says: I'm sure you know. Being from Andorhal.

Senkha says: Mm. Not many happy memories there for me. I hope that you can at least look back fondly on your time in Southshore.

Chadley says: I can. It was only a few years I lived there, after my mother remarried, but I enjoyed myself there.

Vood looks at Chadley.

Chadley looks at Vood.
Chadley says: - Hi?

Vood looks at you.
Vood says: Wow mate.

Chadley says: Do you need assistance, sir?

Vood says: Never noticed it before but you're signicantly uglier than the rest of the citizens in Sotrmwind.
Vood smirks slyly at Chadley.

You raise your eyebrow inquisitively at Vood.

Vood says: Have a good day,mate.

Senkha says: ...well that was. Special.

Chadley flattens his brows as the man turns to leave, not bothering to argue.

Senkha says: You say your mother remarried... were she and your father separated?

Chadley rolls his eyes, letting the insult slide. At her question, he shakes his head. "He died. He stayed behind to fight the Scourge as it swarmed our town."

Senkha cringes again, as if she didn't know this. "Light, I'm sorry. I'm asking all the wrong questions, aren't I? I may as well ask if your dog died and your house burnt down while I'm at it." She chuckles, shaking her head.

Chadley says: The house burnt down, but we didn't own a dog. We had to leave the chickens all behind, though.
Chadley smiles.
Chadley says: You should know, though. My situation is hardly unique.

Senkha grins apologetically and takes another puff from her pipe, cringing. "Mm. When I lived in Andorhal, all I wanted was to leave so I wouldn't have to be a farmer's wife. Now, I'd give just about anything for that lifestyle."
Senkha says: Getting chewed on by a dragon kind of does that to a person.

Chadley says: You said before you wished to return to battle. Conflicting urges?

Senkha says: You might say that. If I -have- to be near a battle, I'd rather be fighting instead of standing uselessly by the side.
Senkha says: I'd ultimately rather not be near battles, but unfortunately, I seem to attract trouble like lampposts attract moths.

Chadley says: Or Delahans.
Chadley coughs.
Chadley says: I know the feeling, though.

Senkha laughs at this, cringing as it jostles her leg wrong. "Yes, the ever-present Delahan Division, proof that the true evil in Stormwind lies in those who stand around lampposts and make snide remarks all day."

Chadley cringes too, though hides it with an adjustment of his posture. "I know little of them. I just know that they're loud and disrupt prayer."

Senkha says: Bullies, really. Nothing but playground bullies gone through puberty and not taught better. How old did you say you were, Chadley?

Chadley says: I am eighteen years old as of November. Why?

Senkha gives Chadley an encouraging smile. "Oh good, I thought you were older for a bit. I was going to say, you've plenty of time to work your way into the battlefield. I'll be twenty-five tomorrow and I only started on the front lines about a year ago."

Chadley says: Perhaps you're right. One tends to lose confidence in themselves when surrounded by grand champions of the Light that are sixteen years old.

Senkha laughs loudly again. "Light's sake, isn't that the case with this city. I swear, I've seen more child prodigies walking these streets than actual hardened warriors, though I suppose that could be because all of the hardened warriors are deployed."

Chadley says: It bodes ill that you find that comical. This city is a terrible place full of bizarre things that defy everything I knew about life.

Senkha says: How long have you been living here?

Chadley says: Luckily, I actually live outside the city, in Northshire Abbey, so I'm spared the insanity most of the time. But I've lived down south here for just over six months now. Yourself?

Senkha says: I came here from Theramore close to... mm, I think it'll be two years in August. It didn't used to be this mad around the Cathedral... it seems the refuse that used to pollute the Moonwell in the Park has migrated here.

Chadley says: Ah. When one religious relic is destroyed, they move onto the next. The shamans in Stormwind Lake should keep their heads up.

Senkha says: Mm, I doubt they'll ever take the Cathedral out. It's weathered far more hell than the Park was built to endure.

Chadley says: To be fair, the ground itself fell out from under it. The Light blesses this ground, but I'm not sure it'd quite help that. But you're right, for all the warlocks and deaders and black dragons this place has endured, it's pulled through.

Senkha says: Mm, you weren't in the city when the elementals were ravaging the place, were you? The entire Cathedral became a house of refuge and healing. It was chaotic, but somehow, it felt beautiful, like what it was really meant to be.

Chadley says: I was here. I acted briefly as a medic in the Keep, after the Cathedral had been evacuated. I feared we'd lost it, but here it is.

Senkha says: Here it is. And here, Light-willing, it shall remain.

Chadley says: It can take it so long as those that wish it harm remain laughably unintelligent. I've witnessed countless people in just a few months attempt to burn it. Burn it!
Chadley says: It's stone!

Senkha grins wryly. "Well no one ever said the writhing masses were -intelligent-, now, did they? Ah well. Natural selection'll take care of that lot, and the rest... well. We'll endure like the Cathedral."
Senkha says: Only preferably with less stone. Being made of stone seems as though it would be rather uncomfortable.

Chadley says: The dwarves don't seem to mind.

Senkha says: Ah, but to be a dwarf, one must have a blood-alcohol content of at least fifty percent, and when you're that shnockered, you don't really notice things like being made of stone.

Chadley smiles. "This is also the truth." At the sound of the bells chiming, he snorts. "So much for practice, I suppose. I need to rest. Early days." He stands and begins to gather his things.

Senkha says: Likely, I should as well. More treatment tomorrow. Light-willing, it'll actually help.
Senkha doesn't make to stand, however, still resting her hand against her leg and not going for the cane leaning against her bench.

Chadley slings his bag over his shoulder, giving a nod. "Light willing, indeed. I shall pray for you."

Senkha says: And I for you.

Mairèad & Shepard: May 4

Mairèad is crying quietly and writing something with such fervor that she is tearing holes in the page.

Shepard leans unevenly off his perch, a hand hanging downwards towards Mairead. He remains quiet.

Mairèad 's Shepard sense is not tingling. She scribbles and scribbles and then, glaring at the paper, decides she is not a fan of whatever she scribbled. This gets discarded and ignited with holy flame, turning to ash. Next page.

Shepard looks towards the lake before beginning to sing quietly. "You've got suckers luck. Have you given up? Does it feels like a trial? Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?"

Mairèad frowns at the familiar voice, though she doesn't immediately start looking for its source. Instead, she keeps writing.

Shepard pauses, letting his voice trail off. His eyes drift back down to Mairead, and he resumes watching her with saddened curiosity.

Mairèad 's tongue kind of pokes out of the corner of her mouth as she writes, getting lost in whatever it is. Every now and again, she pauses and reads the words aloud to herself. "...and her name was... was... hmm." Scribble scribble.

Shepard leans forward a little more, rustling a few leaves - some break off and spiral down towards the ground.

Mairèad brushes the leaves off her page and continues to write as if she didn't hear the rustling. "...the song... th'song she sang was... hmm." Scribble scribble.

Shepard lifts a brow, almost hanging off the branch like a monkey as he tries to get a good luck at what Mairead is writing.

Mairèad doesn't completely acknowledge creeper!Shep, though she does hold her writing a bit closer to her body. "...hmm. Hmm. Ah! With empty sails...!" Scribble scribble.

Shepard stretches himself to the limit. He grunts, feels his grip loosen... then he falls! He immediately teleports himself towards the lake to avoid smashing Mairead.

Mairèad only blinks because water gets near her writing. Otherwise, though, she is absorbed. "...followed the song... followed. Hmm. Might be too... hrn." Scribble scribble.

Shepard pokes his head up from the water - he kind of looks like a shaggy, soggy shark.

Mairèad pauses, looking up at the tree. "Happy or sad? Hmm..." She taps her pen against her lips thoughtfully, then starts chewing on the end. So hygienic.

Shepard 's ears twitch. Then he paddles forward by the tiniest margin. Such a creeper.

Mairèad continues to debate, looking down at her bear. "See, happy would probably be feel-good, 'cause that's what happy is, but sad might be better writin'. What d'you think, Claude?" The bear blinks at Mairèad and begins rustling in her pack for berries.
Mairèad shrugs and starts writing again, apparently having decided.

Shepard remains a stealthy creeper. Watching. Listening. Waiting.

Mairèad pauses in her writing, frowning down at the page. For a second, her chin trembles again and she closes her eyes, gritting her teeth.

Shepard sprints from the water - invisibly! - and moves for a better vantage point. The bush.

Mairèad 's eyes remain closed as she hugs the book to her chest. She murmurs the words of a prayer almost silently. Claude, noticing movement in the bushes, removes his berry-covered snout from Mairead's bag and starts growling.

Shepard freezes; breathing, blinking and all movements stop. Nice bear. Good bear.

Mairèad rests back against the tree, eyes still closed and book still clutched tightly to her chest. She starts humming shakily to herself, murmuring a few words every now and then.

Shepard looks around, clearly uncomfortable (not that it can be seen), and timidly reaches forwards, aiming to gently tap Mairead's shoulder.

Mairèad leans forward right as he gets within tapping distance. She sets the book down in front of her, scrubbing away at her tears, and leans over the page, reading it to herself.

Shepard 's hand twitches in finding nothing but empty space. Slowly, he redirects the hand - this time, it's set on the back of her shoulder.

Mairèad simply sighs and continues to read silently, mouthing the words, occasionally scribbling them out and replacing them. When she is satisfied, she tears the page out and begins to copy its contents onto a new, neater page, embellishing it with artwork.

Shepard finally decides to poke his head through the bush, looking positively insane with curiosity now.

Mairèad obviously knows that Shepard is there, but she still doesn't acknowledge him. She simply shifts the papers so that he can't see their contents and continues her careful embellishment.

Shepard huffs, shoulders sagging in utter defeat. He opts to calmly wait for Mairead's validation.

Mairèad finishes with her embellishments and holds the page up, smiling sadly at it. She then finally acknowledges Shepard. "Hello," she says calmly, gathering her belongings back into her pack.

Shepard eagerly nods at her greeting, leaning forwards. "Hello there, Mairead. What were you doing?"

Mairèad says: I was writin'. What, did it look like I was doin' somethin' else?
Mairèad raises an eyebrow at Shepard.

Shepard says: Well. No. Kind of? What were you writing?

Mairèad rolls a shoulder and looks away very quickly, coughing to hide the sudden smile that's come to her face. "Nothin' important. Jest writin' somethin'."

Shepard cocks his head in obvious confusion, blinking rapidly. "But what?"

Mairèad sticks the book under her arm and begins to gather the belongings that Claude scattered from her pack. "Well, it could be somethin' and it could be nothin'. I guess we'll jest hafta wait and see, won't we?" She still looks away, smiling like mad.

Shepard says: I- wait- what.

Shepard 's mouth is partially agape, and he looks ready to explode from all the curiosity. "Is it a secret thing? Is someone else getting married?"

Mairèad leaves a few berries out of the pack for Claude's consumption. She rolls her eyes, still looking away, and tries to sound contemptuous despite her smile. "Shep, if it was -that-, I'd have told you. Though apparently, I'm s'posed to marry a dorf."
You shrug. Who knows?

Shepard says: ...what.

Mairèad chuckles almost humorlessly, picking up her bag. The rough draft sticks temptingly out of the top as if begging to be snatched up. "Well, I -am- in the army now, and if th'Colonel wants me to marry a dorf, that's orders."
Mairèad says: Hmm, wonder if I've got time t'make the midnight print...

Shepard says: ...you could, yes. The print, not marry a Dwarf.

Mairèad says: Oh good, thanks.
Mairèad doesn't say good-bye or really dismiss Shepard, though she does begin to walk off, humming to herself again.

Shepard hops up, trailing off after her!
Shepard says: You're not gonna tell me, are you.

Mairèad just hums to herself, not answering either way.

Shepard grunts, scratching his mane. "Did you... find someone nice?"

Mairèad laughs quietly. "Why would you ask that?"

Shepard shrugs. Who knows?
Shepard says: Just running through the list.

Mairèad says: Think about that logically.

Shepard snorts. "Logic doesn't always apply."

Mairèad digs in her pack for a pair of envelopes. She carefully addresses each and slips the rough draft into one and the final draft into the other. She then slips them into the mailbox and smiles at Shepard.

Shepard says: ... I'm deadly curious now.

Mairèad says: That is very nice fer you. I need to go pray now.
Mairèad pats Shepard on the hand.

Shepard deadpans. "Fine."

Senkha & Oliver: May 2

Macglynn says: So. Y'talk ter that druid?

Senkha says: Not yet. She's supposed to stop down here, though I've no real way of contacting her. I just worry that Lius is right... that my leg's destroyed.

Macglynn taps the comm now set in his ear. "Ah could call, whenever y'want."

Senkha rolls a shoulder. "It's late tonight, but maybe tomorrow... I'd like to get this taken care of. And speaking of taking care of things." She glances at Oliver's tabard.

Macglynn looks at her, guilty. "-Yeah. Ah took care 'a things. Ah'm sorry."

Senkha says: I figured you'd join up sooner rather than later. I just... well. I wish I could be there with you.

Macglynn says: Soon. Y'will be soon.

Senkha glances at Oliver sideways and gives him a slight, sad smile. "I don't know if Stehl wants me in the unit, love, no matter what we want."

Macglynn sighs, his armor clanking lightly as his shoulders drop. "Seems no matter whut we do things jus' ain't meant ta go yer way, hm."

Senkha links her fingers with Oliver's, squeezing his hand gently. "You know, I started to think about things, and if that's the case... well, I just have to make the best of it, don't I?"

Macglynn says: Y'have any thoughts? Fer whut y'may do on th' off-chance y'ain't gunna make it back out in combat?

Senkha says: I honestly don't know. I'm afraid of that prospect... I just can't imagine living the rest of my life like this.
To Macglynn: Or the rest of my unlife.

Macglynn blinks at you.

Senkha blinks as well, shaking her head as if to clear it. "Sorry."

Macglynn looks down at the floor, brows pressing together as that damn grub crawls its way out from under the chair. He ignores it, though. "Y'think that a lot."

Winston makes happy ghoul noises outside the door. There's also a thud.

Senkha says: ...it feels kind of inevitable, you know? Especially since we started back with the-- what was that thud?

Macglynn looks up at her worriedly. "Back with th' whut?" The thud is followed by an irritated "bleargh!" and the squawking of several chickens.

Senkha shrugs slightly. "With the necromancy. I don't know... it's kind of a blessing, in a way. All these bad things have their silver linings."

Macglynn says: Maybe so. Don't lahk it jus' th' same, though. Don't really gotta explain why.

Senkha says: I know why. I don't really look -forward- to it... but, well. Having more than a few years with you...
Senkha's cheeks flush slightly at this.

Macglynn shakes his head, looking up at her after a moment. "Y'don't care at all about th' cost, do you."

Senkha glances sideways at Oliver and sighs. "I care. You can't be from Lordaeron and honestly -not- care. I... Light, it's just... I don't know. It-- nnn."
To Macglynn: --it'd be worth it. Oh Light, smokescreen, husband can't see how crazy she is.

Macglynn reaches over to her and takes her by the upper arms, and with an uncharacteristic worry says, "-Tell me what yer thinking-." Outside, the squawking stops, as well as the angry ghoul noises.

Senkha blinks, stunned at the sudden display of uncharacteristic worry. Her smokescreen falls away before she can stop it: It'd be worth it to be with you forever, just the two of us, we'd never be alone again, either of us, together fore-- and then the smokescreen is up again and Senkha shakes her head, muttering something about being insane.

Macglynn lets her go, leaning back in his chair again. "Ah don't know if it's me whut poisoned yer mind, or if y'always been this way. Ah may not even be m'self in ferever, Senkha. An' neither may you."

Senkha says: Light, I -know- that, I just wish I had more -time-. I hate that everyone I love is essentially immortal.

Macglynn glances over at her, but doesn't say anything. Not about that, at least. What can he say to that? He does eventually give a groan of frustration and look away again, saying, "Few years won't be worth it."

Senkha shakes her head, dropping her hands into her lap and pressing her lips together. "That's why I don't really want undeath specifically. I just want... more years. Even just ten more."

Macglynn says: Y'ain't gunna fahnd that with nekermancy.

Senkha says: ...do you want it?

Senkha looks up at Oliver, regarding him seriously.

Macglynn says: No.
Macglynn whispers: Oliver is a lying liar that lies and he knows it.

Senkha says: The truth.

Macglynn says: No.

Senkha just sort of stares at Oliver, frowning slightly.
Senkha says: Look, just because you want it doesn't mean that I'm going to ask you to kill and raise me right here or that we'll both start thinking it's right and moral.
Senkha says: People want things that aren't right and moral all the time, but that doesn't mean we want them any less.

Macglynn says: There's wantin' somethin' fer yerself, an' then there's wantin' somethin' fer th' sake 'a somebody else. Sometahms these things conflict.

Senkha says: ...you'd want it for yourself.

Macglynn says: -- Ah didn't mean it that way.
Macglynn whispers: Liar. -Liar-.

Senkha sighs and kisses Oliver's hand gently. "I'm sorry we brought it up. I'm sorry. This isn't something we should talk about because it's not... I mean it doesn't make you happy."

Macglynn gives a quiet, conceding laugh. "Y'called yerself insane. Ah'd not say Ah'm too far off from that m'self."

Senkha says: ...show me.

Macglynn takes his hand back, giving it a quick wave. "Would rather not."

Senkha shakes her head again, once more as if clearing fog. "Light, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I don't know where that came from."

Macglynn says: Yes y'do.

Senkha says: Where did it come from, then?

Macglynn says: Where else'd it come from but you?

Senkha says: Well I know that. Just... I don't know. I don't know why I'm sitting here wanting to see your insanity.

Macglynn leans back in his chair again. He looks blankly ahead, eventually lifting his hands to gesture around as he talks. "There's me an' there's whut th' Skurge made me. Sort'a don't matter whut's whut, 'cause in th' end it's all me." His hands come together, as if mimicking strangling. "Ah want t' watch yer lahf slip outta you by my own hands. Ah wanna claim yer soul fer me, make y'inta somethin' ain't no better'n that slobberin' thing outsahd. But it wouldn' matter. B'cause yuh'd belong t'me, no queshuns."
Macglynn keeps talking, over her. "But it ain't pleasant. Th' satisfaction 'a watchin' somethin's flesh melt away by yer own power as y'force its will t'yer own at th' same tahm."

Senkha closes her eyes and looks away, less out of discomfort at his statements and more out of her own shame. "Don't you know that I already do belong to you?" she asks in a low voice. "I know it's not pleasant. It's not something I sit here and daydream for hours about how pleasant it'd be, not the way I remember... things." She flushes. "I know it's what the Scourge made of you that wants it. I know that you... the you that belongs to -me-... is horrified at it. I'm sorry."

Macglynn smiles weakly. "It's a thing Ah live with fer ev'rythin', Senkha, an' Ah know it don't surprahs y'none. Ah kin't keep m'thoughts hid all day, Ah fergit. Yuh've said y'belong ta me. Ah dunno whut that means in a sense other'n th' way yuh'd say fer a mahndless damn pet. It's sick 'a me ta think 'a you that way."

Senkha still isn't looking at Oliver, though her voice is thoughtful. "I don't mean it that way. Not like that. I just mean... I don't know how to explain it. I'm yours as much as you're mine, I guess. I trust you with my mind and my body."

Macglynn says: Y'really shouldn't.
Macglynn says: But Ah'm glad y'do.

Senkha says: Do you?

Macglynn says: Trust you?

Senkha says: Yes.

Macglynn smiles again. "Well. Considerin' whut yer capable 'a an' th' freedom Ah give you, Ah'd hope so."

Senkha finally looks back at Oliver and smiles at him. "I wouldn't try to control you. It's not something I want, and I hate doing it when I have to. But... I'm glad you trust me."

Macglynn says: Ah dun' think yuh'd put up with all th' shit y'has if y'meant wrong.

Senkha reaches over and kisses Oliver lightly on the cheek. "Speaking of trust... do you want to practice some more?"

Macglynn says: ... S'pose there ain't a point in not.

Senkha grins and squeezes Oliver's hand. "I trust you," she repeats.

Macglynn says: A'rite. See ha' much Ah trust m'self here, heh.
Macglynn doesn't sound like he trusts himself.

Senkha squeezes Oliver's hand again. "The only way to start trusting yourself more is to work at it. You're getting much better."

Macglynn nods. "Yeah. Know that." He closes his eyes, still not looking completely thrilled, but she'd instantly feel a shift. Everything looks the same, except the insects crawling about are gone, and the ghoul outside is silent.

Senkha shivers at the change, not used to not being the one to bring it on. She looks over at Oliver hopefully, still holding his hand. "Not bad at all," she comments, looking around.

Macglynn's nerve is reflected in his breath. Here, he is alive, and the signs of stress can actually show. "A'rite. So, tell me whut t' do. 'Cause Ah guess yer teachin' me."
Macglynn keeps mumbling, "Well, Ah know whut t' do an' ha' t' do it, but more whut we should be doin' practicin', y'know."

Senkha pauses thoughtfully, sitting back in the chair. "Hm. Well, you know how to look at memories and feelings. And you know how to create them, too, but we don't usually get to practice that without a loss of control. Why don't we practice that?"

Macglynn says: Create fake memories?

Senkha blinks, looking surprised at this suggestion. "...I've never tried that before myself, but I know that's something that happened in the Scourge. Maybe you could try that, though, but try it towards the -good- this time."

Macglynn blinks when she does. "Ah thought that's whut y'meant. Ah ain't sure there's a way t' plant anythin' in somebody's head an' really be fer th' good. It's still fake."

Senkha nods. "It is still fake, but... well, maybe that could give some insight on how to heal memories, you know? Ones that were damaged or twisted?" She doesn't say, in case there's another Patrick Morgan, but the thought hangs in the air just the same.

Macglynn 's mouth opens slightly, almost in protest, but he closes it after a second thought. "That... ain't a bad ahdea." He readies himself, closing his eyes in concentration. "Ah'm sorry if this hurts."

Senkha nods, closing her eyes as well and squeezing his hand. Once again, she repeats, "I trust you." --memories are pretty bad, not much you can do to fuck them up, I'll be okay.

The bond between them is opened, and in a momentarily painful rush, his memories become hers. All of them. As memories tend to work, though, she's not inundated with them until he searches for them himself, but they're there. He recalls the night in Lordaeron, the cage in which his old enemy and mouthy girlfriend were held. Standing there, in the cage, in his thoughts, at insanity's edge as he labored to weave back together everything he did. "You r'member them yerself- ta undo 'em, y'have ta see 'em. Y'jus' gotta give 'em-" He breaks off, his own thoughts drifting back to the original act of tearing them apart. They stray significantly- Patrick Morgan, and hundreds of nameless crusaders. Memories, thousands of them- back to Lordaeron. Back to Lordaeron. Back to the cage. You remember them yourself and you can have them back. That's why only I could do it.

Senkha gasps sharply, her grip on Oliver's hand becoming vicelike at the rush of memories. It's quite literally more information than she's ever had to process at once before, and even once she's adjusted somewhat, she's still pale and shaking, almost nauseous with the sheer volume of it. The cage in Lordaeron. She remembers it, too, remembers that moment but now from two perspectives, both of them just barely this side of sane. Remember them yourself. It draws her back to the night she found him in Corin's Crossing, tearing apart the city, wanting to die because he'd almost killed her, his hand vicelike around her throat, her daggers ineffective at stopping him. How would that change, she wonders? How would you change this one?

Macglynn 's head lowers and he brings his arms up around it. She can't see for the vivid memories, but he's shaking. "Happened. Ain't s'posed t' change it."

Senkha is shaking as well, though she doesn't seem to realize it. She's not entirely aware of what she's asking or talking about from the overload, but she still asks, "Don't change it, then. What would be different if you did? But don't change it."

Macglynn manages a smile, bringing his head up. He even laughs. "Th' whole thing? Th' past itself? That whole afternoon'd not 'a happened, that's whut." The memory shifts back to Azshara, him taking her hand and helping her down from the bench on the cliff. They ride away, away from the shoreline, their evening instead uneventful.

"But if it hadn't happened..." Senkha fast-forwards. The week itself isn't boring because Wym goes insane, but Senkha's still far more dependent than she ought to be on Oliver. When he disappears, she's a madwoman, unable to focus even on finding him simply lost to despair and entirely hopeless, unable to do a thing for herself. "It -had- to happen. The past happened for a reason. Good things happened because of bad choices."

Macglynn says: Yer th' one askin' me ta change it, not me.

Senkha laughs. "True. I -am- the crazier one, after all. I think... I think we've done enough with memories for the day." She's still reeling from the amount of Oliver memories in her mind now. "Let's try sensations."

Macglynn withdraws completely, giving her a break from that mess. Nobody her age should have to deal with all the memories of somebody his age, even subconsciously. "A'rite then," he says. "Though y'should know by na' Ah ain't too bad with that a'ready." He grins.

Senkha is sitting back in her chair, still looking pale and shaky like she's just run a marathon or been thrown around in a tornado. "The illusion's important, too. I mean... nn. You know. Maybe... maybe that's enough pra- practice for tonight."

Macglynn says: - Yeah. Yeah, a'rite.
The dream disperses. Oliver looks annoyed with himself.

Senkha continues to shake and look entirely overwhelmed. "Don't-- hnn. Don't be like that. Not your fault. Asked for it. Glad you did it. Just... a lot at once. Maybe... maybe smaller doses next time."

Macglynn stares you down.
Macglynn says: Y'dun' look so good.

Senkha laughs, sitting back in the chair and lifting a shaking head to her forehead. "It's a lot to process. Remember how it felt when the zeal first took effect and you could feel and breathe again?"

Macglynn says: ... Apparently you do.

Senkha says: It's kind of like that, only with memories. It's not -bad-, it's just a -lot-. I think my mind just needs time to sort through them.

Macglynn says: ... Should fergit most 'a it, thankfully.

Senkha says: Mm. I'd recommend against doing that to Shepard.
Senkha exhales shakily and then smiles at Oliver. "Thank you for sharing that with me. It means a lot to me."

Macglynn says: Yeah. No problem. Owed it.

Senkha says: Please don't feel bad about this.

Macglynn says: No, no... y'asked fer it.

Senkha nods and presses her lips together before finally smiling. She squeezes Oliver's hand again, gently.

Macglynn says: Think Ah may head... out, though. Kin come with, if y'want.

Senkha looks over at Oliver, raising an eyebrow. "Hunting?" she asks.

Macglynn rises from his chair, his heel barely missing the grub as he steps forward. "Mhm."

Senkha nods and closes her eyes. Effortlessly, Oliver would notice her taking up residence in his body, not attempting to control it by any means. Just being part of him. It must be familiar by now.

It is familiar. Quite familiar, in fact. He rolls a shoulder to allow his body some movement with the extra mental baggage, and walks for the door. "Be back in, uh." He pauses. "Ain't sure."
Macglynn trudges out into the swampland, across the water's surface as it freezes under his feet. It's a good ten minutes before he reaches a pocket of demons, their population thinning from his efforts. "Hello," he smiles, drawing his blade. The demons look equally happy to engage.

Senkha doesn't attempt to control or even attempt to speak to Oliver, but he'd likely notice an added pleasure to each kill, something that doesn't come from the blade. The smoother his movements are, the happier the feeling.

Macglynn doesn't notice this, at least not consciously. But he has few conscious thoughts as he kills, more a creature of instinct now. The swings of his blade grow elaborate, and he begins to deliberately create patterns with his slashes.

The happiness is almost a childlike delight, not at all unlike the way one feels when using a Spirograph or making a splatter painting. There's no adult sense of "less is more," just a mindless, childish sense of more is more, and they must have more.

This really isn't good for the mindset he falls into, and it serves to urge his madness further. Bodies fall into even piles, flesh bursting with disease in pinpoint-specific places to create splatters in amusing patterns.

Senkha still doesn't try to control Oliver, but he'd begin to sense her desire to move in as elegant of patterns as those he's creating with the carnage. A dance, that's what it is, something that doesn't have to be gory but can be beautiful.

Unwittingly, he follows what she wants anyway. It's a dance, and she's leading, even if she's riding on his feet. To an onlooker, it wouldn't be beautiful. The patterns impressive, perhaps, but invisible for the gore. But it's beautiful to her, and so it is to him. His blade is most pleased.

Senkha has become mindless in his arms, simply enjoying the grace of movement and the way this feels. She doesn't even try to suggest anything emotionally anymore. She just enjoys the ride.

With the suggestions fading, his senses come back to just his own and his blade's. He keeps the dance alive for a few more minutes, another demon torn apart, before he calms.

Senkha remains relaxed, though there's a slight sense of guilt about her; she didn't mean to control him at all, overtly or by suggestion.

"It's a'rite," he says aloud. "When it's th' two 'a us, whut y'want jus' happens."

What you want matters, too... Still, he'd feel a sort of relaxation about his muscles, the way someone feels after a long massage.

Macglynn rolls a shoulder, and then grins. "Well, then, y'kin do whut Ah want by keepin' that up." Ah'm comin' home.

Mairèad & Bryn: May 3

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Selvaggia & Lius: May 1

Selvaggia squeezes Lius' hand. "I'm glad you're able to be here tonight. Garrett's probably asleep already."

Lius nods, glancing around. "Cannae stay all nigh', bu' I can sneak away for a while."

Selvaggia says: A while is all I need. Shall we?

Lius says: Mhm, will be nice t'be home.

Selvaggia grins, hopping up on the table and swinging her legs, looking almost back to her old, healthier self. Garrett is across the room, sleeping soundly and being stupidly cute.

Lius looks towards his son, cause DAWWWW. "Ye've certainly bounced back, love. Back t'avin' tha' dangerous look in yer eye."

Selvaggia leans back on her hands, still grinning wickedly. "I've been going a bit stir crazy without you, knowing that you're so close but still so far away. I've -missed- you."

Lius approaches! "An' ye think it 'as been easy fer me, aye? Nae. It's jus' wha' is required."

Selvaggia says: Just what's required, hm? As if you don't love it when you get to cut into one of them to save their lives. You just miss being able to enjoy the rush with me.

Lius says: It's a large thing t'miss, love. Bein' a division tha' doesnae exist means a certain level of...pretending t'nae exit.

Selvaggia reaches her hand up to touch Lius' cheek gently, rubbing her thumb against the skin there, as overly warm as usual. "You'll always exist to me, as invisible as you are."

Lius places his hand over hers, tugging his mask away with the one that remains free. Omg he's smiling. "Tha' was pretty romanatic, love. I figured ye'd be draggin' me 'ere t'cut int' somethin'."

Selvaggia laughs quietly and leans in to press her lips against Lius'. "There's a difference between the two? I've missed you. I've missed the feeling of your skin. I've missed the scent of your blood. I've missed your eyes and your smile. I'm glad you're home."

Lius grins further, standard Lius!glare coming to rest on her. "I will 'ave t'ask fer some leave time, after this troll business gets sorted out. I 'ave missed jus' 'ow fuckin' crazy ye make me feel."

Selvaggia kisses Lius again, on the lips and on the neck. "I've missed making you crazy. I adore spending time with Garrett, and he is an absolute joy, but I miss having someone who can talk back to me."

Lius makes a face. "Psh, 'e can talk. Ye jus' 'ave t'listen." He leans forward, arms wrapping around her.

Selvaggia links her ankles behind Lius' knees, trying to pull him closer. "Have you listened?" she asks. Her fingers grow slightly hotter against his cheek, leaving reddish marks. "What does he say?"

Lius says: Mostly tha' 'e loves 'is mother. 'E speaks of yer beauty, of 'ow lucky 'e is.

Selvaggia giggles; she just can't help it. "Does he now? And why is he so lucky?"

Lius says: Because 'e 'as you, o'course. While I 'ave t'go fall out of planes, yer always 'ere.
Lius nods. SAGE.
Lius says: 'E appreciates it.

Selvaggia drops her voice to a whisper, that old derpy smile coming to her face. "And does he realize that he is the son of a deity? Has he mentioned that?"

Lius chuckles, giving a firm nod. "Of course. 'E often speaks of 'ow great I am, yet seems convinced tha' 'e will be better. I admit, I think tha' 'e will."

Selvaggia says: Of course he will! He has the best of both of us... he'll put us both to shame.
Selvaggia runs a searing finger under the collar of Lius' robes. "So. My deity. I wonder how we ought to spend this lovely time that you're returned to me."

Lius shrugs, relaxing at the touch. Oman. "I 'ad certain thin's in mind."

Selvaggia flexes her fingers somewhat, intensifying the heat. "What certain things are these, if I may ask? A lesson for your best pupil?"

Lius leans into the heat, his eyes closing for a second. "I think ye already know, love, or yer jus' tauntin' me."

Selvaggia grins, kissing the other side of Lius' neck and leaving gentle burns along his collarbone. "I have to wonder if there will be any retaliation this evening or if you are entirely at my mercy..."

Lius moves to release a strap holding his pauldrons in place, allowing them to thud against the ground. "I woul' jus' throw my comm away, bu' this isnae Vigil. This is serious."

Selvaggia withdraws her hands from under his collar, tracing the wire of his comm. "How does this work, anyway? What should I press to make you say hello?"

Lius runs a finger along the underside of the bean shaped bud stuck in his ear. "This will do it, or.." His hand trails down, pressing against his collar. A small strap can be seen through the cloth, he presses down on a bulk nearby. "This."

Selvaggia grins, running her fingers along both areas. "Good to know. Let's hope I don't accidentally press either button when I make you scream..." She sends a slight jolt of shadow energy into his chest, experimentally, as if remembering how.

Lius flinches back, having been away from pain for quite some time. His head rolls back, eyes closing, it's hard to tell if it's from the pain or bliss. "Yer askin' fer trouble, lass." He grins, shadow dancing from finger to finger.

Selvaggia sends another jolt, one much stronger, through his arm, eyes dancing with excitement. "It's been quite some time since I've had trouble, my deity. I welcome it at your hands."

Lius works through the extra burst of shadow directed his way, bringing his fingers up to trace across her lips. Shadow now openly flows from the tip of each, lashing out at her cheeks.

Selvaggia hums with pleasure at the sensation, bringing her hand up to his cheek. Flames dance from her fingers as well, licking against his cheeks. "Ahh, I have missed you."

Lius doubles his efforts, his eyelids drooping through the mixture of pain and concentration. "An' I 'ave missed ye, doll."

Selvaggia gives a soft growl of desire and pulls Lius into a full kiss, flames still dancing from her fingers and leaving red marks along his cheeks. The other hand catches in his hair, holding him close to her.

Lius hrmphs as he's pulled into the kiss, his fingers pulling away from her cheek. A full on stream of shadow forms from his palm, heading towards her skull.

Selvaggia groans as the shadow energy connects with her temple and retaliates in kind, drawing wisps of green energy from the runes she carved on his chest so many months ago. She bites down on his lower lip hard, drawing blood.

Lius lurches forward, leaning into her. His breathing comes in deep spurts, the stream of shadow flickers before fading away. Oh god, pain.

Selvaggia chuckles against his mouth, the tendrils ebbing some. "Shall I stop, my deity?" she asks in a voice that suggests she will do no such thing, "or are you enjoying this too much?"

Lius shakes his head, unable to manage something as complex as speaking right now. A hand awkwardly gropes for the knife at his side, pulling it up towards her shoulder. Where he digs straight the fuck in.

Selvaggia cries out in pain, not expecting sudden knife stabbings. The tendrils of energy grow darker, almost purple, and the gem in the ring on her finger lights up as if absorbing something. The flow of energy is constant, however; though the pain isn't diminished in any way, Lius wouldn't feel any weaker. It's replenished as soon as it's taken.

Lius drags the knife down further, short spurts of movement caused by the jolts of pain more often than not. Still, he isn't making any sounds, just kind of writhing.

Selvaggia reaches up with her other hand, which is shaking rather heavily, and places it on Lius'. She tries to steady his movements, to keep him from digging too deeply and damaging nerve and muscle, but the pain is far too exquisite to stop him completely.

Lius glares at her, locking his eyes onto her own. Intensity, but it's lacking even a trace of hate. He allows her to help guide his hand, unable to do much else to stop her.

Selvaggia 's shoulder is soaked through with blood; it covers her fingers as well, and she runs them along Lius' lip. "Would you like to learn, my deity, to have a part of me as I have a part of you?" She holds up her ring.

Lius sputters a response, hooray speech. The knife comes to a stop. "Aye."

Selvaggia smiles softly and leans back, reaching for an ancient tome that's conveniently leaning against the table. She flips through it, getting blood spatters on the pages, until she reaches one illuminated with illustrations of violet stones and runes. She indicates a set of runes toward the bottom of the page, identical to the ones Lius has on his chest. "Use your knife to make these on my chest. Carefully, though... mess them up and you'll summon a demon instead, and that would be awkward."

Lius takes a moment to gather himself, shaking each limb free of any remaining jitters. With a final step forward, and a bit of leaning, he sets to the work. Glancing to the book every now and then, the work is quickly completed. Because, come on...surgeon.

Selvaggia is now quite the gory mess--though the cuts weren't deep, they were bloody, and her front is streaked with red. She smiles up at Lius, something more than a little insane in her eyes. "The words you must say are in Eredun... it's a demonic tongue. They'll enable you to discern my essence--my soul--and pull pieces away from it through those runes." Despite the obvious danger of this idea, she sounds giddy with excitement.

Lius whistles, that's some serious shit yo. "Alrigh'." He nods, glancing to the book. "These 'ere?"

Selvaggia nods, pressing her lips together. "Make sure the pronunciation is correct... I wrote it out phonetically below. It's pretty similar to how one calls forth a succubus, and that could get awkward."

Lius shrugs, not taking this quite as seriously as he should. "Awkward or amazin'." He mutters, reading through the words a few more times. Finally, he takes in a deep breath, and wordswordswords.

Selvaggia makes a soft, almost strangled noise. She'd shift in Lius' view, her essence clearly visible as if her skin and body have become transparent. "Did it work?" she asks, not seeing these changes for herself.

Lius says: Tha' or a syringe managed t'get me durin' th'fun...
Lius rubs at his eye. Great, now there's blood everywhere.

Selvaggia laughs quietly and shifts her position, trying to get more comfortable. "Try drawing a part of me towards you... not too much or you'll have a big rock in your hand and a dead wife. Just... sort of ask it to come towards you."

Lius inhales deeply, shaking his head. Alright. Go time. A hand raises, beckoning it closer. "Come 'ere." He wills it, trying to avoid eating all of it.

Selvaggia gives a cry of pain that she quickly stifles to a growl, trying not to wake the baby. As predicted, a thin ribbon of her essence curls outward toward Lius' waiting hand, moving about his fingers much like any other shadow energy would.

Lius lifts his hand, examining the energy. "Wha' th'ell do I do now?"

Selvaggia is shaking from the pain of it; he can't see the tears of pain streaming down her cheeks, but he can likely hear them in her voice. "The final word is at the bottom of the page. It ends the s-spell..."

Lius seems too busy with the energy crawling around his fingers to notice the book. "Hrm?" He questions, glancing up. "OH! Righ'." He nods, and SHADOW WORD: FINAL.

Selvaggia gasps; Lius would notice her shimmering back into her more recognizable appearance. The energy that danced around his fingers coalesces into a tiny gem in the palm of his hand, a similar violet to the gem in her ring.

Lius rolls the gem around in his palm, eyes set down onto it. "I imagine it woul' be wise t'keep track of this."

Selvaggia is breathing heavily and still shaking quite a bit. Her wounds have cauterized and she looks as though the entire experience has taken quite a bit out of her. "S-set it in youru wedding band, perhaps?"

Lius nods, clenching it in his fist. "Aye, I know someone tha' can do it." He looks up, frowning at omgtiredselvie. "Looks like we need t'get ye t'bed, love."

Selvaggia smiles, leaning forward until her head rests against Lius' shoulder. "I can think of some things to do once we get there," she murmurs.

Lius attempts to sweep her off the table, careful to avoid dropping dat gem. "Aye, aye. We'll see if yer jus' all talk when we get there."

Mairèad & Shepard: May 1

Mairèad says: Shep, are you alright? Y'been actin' kinda funny since you fixed yer memory.

Shépard quietly reaches into his bag, searching through the various belongings until he pulls out a scroll. He holds it out to Mairead. "I'm fine. Just been... busy."

Mairèad takes the scroll with a slight frown, shifting it from hand to hand. "You'd tell me if it was somethin' I'd done, wouldn't you? 'Cause I'd rather know fer sure one way or th'other."

Shépard says: It wasn't something you've done, Mairead, relax. Anyway, enjoy.

Mairèad looks at the scroll, unrolling it after a moment, glancing sideways at Shepard all the while as if she's concerned he's playing a prank on her. "If it's about th'other night..." she starts but then leaves off and goes back to the scroll.

Shépard says: I said it wasn't -you-, Mairead. -Relax-. Just enjoy your certificate, deed... whatever it's called.

Mairèad cringes at this, though she doesn't comment further. "...deed?" She looks back down at the scroll and gives a yelp of surprise. "Is this...?!"

Shépard says: It's a boat deed, yes.

Mairèad says: Y'got me a -boat-!?

Shépard says: Uh-huh.

Mairèad looks as if she might explode from happiness. She jumps up and throws her arms around Shepard's neck, squealing things that are almost entirely unintelligible.

Shépard grunts, hiding the smallest traces of a smile.

Mairèad is still holding onto Shepard's neck, her squeals becoming a more discernable "I love you, oh me Light, I love you, yer th'best, a fuckin' -boat- EEEEE!!"

Shépard 's ears flick in tandem with Mairead's squeals, and he manages a throaty chuckle. "Glad- glad you like it."

Mairèad stops squealing when she sees the ear-flicking. "Oh! Oh, sorreh. Sorreh. I don't mean to be so loud. Jest. Jest. Me own boat! This is... oh thank you so much. So much, Shep. Thank you."

Shépard says: Mmhm. Being a Paladin is an exhausting job. Just thought you'd want something to help you escape from the pressure.

Mairèad beams, still hugging Shepard around the neck, which only works because she's standing on the planter. "Kin we go see it? We should go see it."

Shépard furrows his brows, though he puts on a smile. "Give it a day. I have them stocking it right now."

Mairèad says: Alright. We kin go down there together tomorrow. ...if y'ent busy with other stuff.

Shépard says: I shouldn't be, no.

Mairèad shifts so that she's leaning against Shepard's back instead of dangling from his neck. "Okay. I've missed you lots, y'know. It ent th'same in Stormwind without you, and Orgo's th'wrong kinda warm."

Shépard says: I've missed you, too- what kind of warm is he?

Mairèad rests her cheek against Shepard's back, frowning slightly. "Same kind as Luke-- wantin' more than I kin give, and too nice fer his own good."

Shépard says: Ah. So he wants sex.

Mairèad says: No. If all he wanted was sex, that'd be easy. But he wants me t'love him. Or he thinks he does. He's all smitten.

Shépard says: It's almost like this city thrives on finding someone to love immediately.
Shépard says: Like it'll somehow make everything -better-.

Mairèad says: I kin understand it... when yer fallin', you want errythin' to happen so fast. But... well. This way's nicer. Feels more rill. And that's exactly it, onleh when you love someone, it doesn't make all yer problems go away.
Mairèad trails her arms down to rest around Shepard's waist. "Even when they love you back."

Shépard says: Mm. Anyway, I need to be heading off. I'm not out of my theoretical woods yet.

Mairèad nods, still resting her cheek against his back, not letting go just yet. "...d'you think y-- I'm sorreh, I shouldn't ask that."

Shépard says: ...think what?

Mairèad cringes and barely whispers. "D'you think you could kiss me good-bye? Since y'miss me so much."

Shépard pauses, flicking an ear. "... No."

Mairèad sags enough that he could probably feel it, though she manages to keep her voice steady. "Alright. Figured it was worth askin'."

Shépard says: Things will happen as they should, Mairead. Some things... you don't need to search for.

Mairèad closes her eyes and grimaces. "I'm not tryin'a search, I'm jest... nnn." She gives up, shaking her head. "It's fine. It'll be fine."

Shépard sighs, head lowering in thought. "Ever hear the phrase 'coming on too strong'?"

Mairèad drops her arms completely and just leans against Shepard's back. "I know I am. I don't know how else t'be. Jest... hnn. Nevarrrmind. It's nothin' fer you to worreh about."

Shépard says: How about less obvious? Something isn't as alluring if everything is presented from the get-go.

Mairèad says: But you -know- how I feel. Even if I pretend I don't feel that way, that doesn't change anythin'.

Shépard says: Then you obviously don't know me well.

Mairèad says: I guess I'm jest wonderin' what th'point is 'a me bein' somethin' fer you to figure out if y'already know the answer?

Shépard does his best to peer back, lifting a brow. "It's not about finding the answer, it's about the chase; you're offering everything to a being with predatory instincts."

Mairèad frowns. She hadn't thought of this before. "...one question, then: if I stop this and let -you- do a little chasin', -will- you chase? Or will you jest be like 'oh thank th'Light she's not buggin' me anymore' and leave me hangin'?"

Shépard shrugs a shoulder. "No clue. I'm just offering advice."

Mairèad gives Shepard a light shove, sighing heavily. "Fine, be all cryptic. But y'know, sometimes, you kin be a rill pain." She hops off the planter, gives Shepard a tight (if begrudging) hug, and starts back towards the Cathedral.

Mairèad, Orgo, & Lisa: April 30

Orgo plops down besides Mairead, giving her a poke. "Oi, Miss Palerdin."

Mairèad gives Orgo a hug around the shoulders. "Hey Gundorf. Is it okay that I'm sittin', even though I'm on active duty tonight?"

Orgo snorts. "Course it's fine. Stehl sits all th' time."

Mairèad says: Well that's good. Today's been kinda emotionally wringin', y'know? Like in a good way -and- a bad way. It's good t'jest sit with people y'like.

Orgo nods. "I understand."

Mairèad says: Did y'like the ceremony? I thought it went good, up 'til th'party at the end.

Orgo nods. "Yeah. I liked most of it."

Mairèad grins, nudging Orgo with her shoulder. "What didn't y'like?"

Orgo snorts. "Don't wanna say. Might hurt yer feelin's."

Mairèad says: Naw, go ahead and say. I'll bet I could guess, but go ahead and say.

Orgo snorts. "Didn't like th' singing."

Mairèad chuckles. "I'm not surprised. That was what I was gunna guess."

Orgo snorts again. "Where'd he run off too, anyway?"

Mairèad says: I dunno. To do... "stuff."

Orgo grumbles.

Mairèad says: ...yahar, that about sums it up.

Orgo scowls. "Yeh should dump 'is ass." There. He said it.

Mairèad rolls a shoulder and shakes her head. "We ent a couple, not rilly. He's... well. I think he feels strongly about me, but fer all I know, he jest doesn't wanna hurt me feelin's."

Orgo mumbles some more.
Orgo says: So. Ya get th' present I sent ya?

Mairèad says: Yahar! I did. Also, what'd you say jest now? Also-also, Colonel Hardcheese thinks I jest got married.

Orgo snorts. "Nothing. Just speculatin'. Bout other folks you could be seein'."
Orgo says: And yeh. Not sure th' Colonel knew what was goin' on.

Mairèad grins and leans against Orgo somewhat, winking at him. "Like you, y'mean."
Mairèad says: And it was good 'a him to come and give a speech either way.

Orgo grins. "Now that ya mention it, yeh."

Mairèad continues to lean, putting on an overdramatic sort of air. "I dunno, Gundorf. You'd probably find yerself disappointed by someone what couldn't keep up with even jest yer nightcap."

Orgo grins. "Eh, I'm sure you'll get better at holdin' yer hooch. Took me a few days t' get th' hang of it, too."

Mairèad chuckles. "Speakin' a', since someone gave me a bunch 'a hooch fer me ordinashun and I'm feelin' kinda down, y'wanna go somewhar and watch me get sloshed?"

Orgo grins. "Only if yer sharin'."

Mairèad says: 'A course! That's th'virtue 'a compassion.

Orgo grins. "See, knew ya'd make a good palerdin."

Mairèad chuckles and stands, hefting a large sack filled with the aforementioned alcohol over her shoulder. "C'mon, then. Better t'go somewhere that ent in front 'a the Cathedral if this is gunna be a gettin' used to experience fer me."

Orgo nods. "Lead th' way, then!"

Mairèad says: Hmm.
Mairèad says: Tryin'a decide if I feel bad enough fer th'sea or not.
Mairèad purses her lips and nods. "I do." She continues off harborwards.
Mairèad sets the booze bag down and sits, legs outstretched, inhaling deeply.

Orgo plops down, leaning back against the crate.

Mairèad fishes out two bottles from the bag and hands one to Orgo. "To... hmm. To dorfs."

Orgo grins, nodding. "I'll drink t' that!" He bites down on the cork, popping it free, following with a long pull.

Mairèad follows suit, taking a long swig. As per usual, it hits her pretty hard and she sets the bottle down, going back to leaning against Orgo. "Y'know, Gundorf. It's mostly unfair t'you. 'Cause I'd totally do you, but I think y'want more than that, huh."

Orgo sighs. "Suppose maybe I do. Not lookin' fer marryin' or anythin', but there's other stuff that'd be nice."

Mairèad says: Like love and cuddlin' and hand-holdin' and all that stuff people do when they're ~involved~.

Orgo snorts. "Cuddlin' and stuff ain't bad, no. Nice t' have someone t' sit on yer lap now an' again."

Mairèad considers this and then, taking another long swig of booze, half-sits on Orgo's lap. "Hmm. Dorfs're a different warm than wergin."

Orgo blinks, a little surprised. "A better warm, I'd say."

Mairèad says: How so?

Orgo shrugs. "I dunno. Just know it's better."

Mairèad has gone all glassy-eyed. "Have -you- evarrr snuggled with a wergin?"

Orgo shrugs. "Okay, I guess ya got me on that one. Nope."

Mairèad inadvertently bonks her forehead against Orgo's, chuckling. She just sort of sits there, though. "But you've snuggled with dorf ladies, I'd assume."

Orgo grins. "A few, yeah. Yer a diff'rent kind a warm than them."

Mairèad says: I'm warm? How'm I warm?
Mairèad says: I'm tiny and a girl. Those're two thin's what usually make warm not happen.

Orgo snorts. "Still warmer than nothin'. Dwarf women are, well...bigger. Take up more space."

Mairèad says: Is not bein' big a bad thin'?

Orgo snorts again. "Nope. I like it, m'self."

Mairèad says: I'm startin' t'wonder if there's anythin' about me y'don't like!

Orgo thinks for a minute. "Don't like that worgen fella o' yours. That count?"

Mairèad is still leaning her forehead against Orgo's. She doesn't move even when she brings her bottle of booze up for another swig, which makes things awkward. "That ent me, that's someone else."

Orgo says: Hrmmm. There's one freckle right there that I don't like too much.

Mairèad snorts and gives Orgo a light shove. "That doesn't count either, that's you bein' silly. C'mon, there must be somethin' I do what drives you nuts."

Orgo shrugs. "Guess I'm stumped, then. Have t' spend some more time 'round ya."

Mairèad says: I'm sure you're heartbroken about that.

Orgo says: Yep. It's gonna be hard work, but I'm gonna give it m'best shot.

Mairèad hugs Orgo around the shoulders with a gentle, albeit drunken laugh. "I always appreciate someone what shows dedication to his craft. If yer like that in th'sack, too, it's a wonder y'ent got thousands 'a women linin' up."

Orgo grins. "I prob'ly would, but I like t'be particular."

Mairèad says: And what's it about me that's got you decidin' t'wish ill on Shep and be determined that y'won't settle fer jest a one-night-stand? Which is totally on th'table, by-the-by.

Orgo grins. "Well, everythin', o'course." He snorts again. "An' I don't wish ill o' him. I wish 'im to be totally 'appy. With somebody else. Far away."

Mairèad sighs and pats Orgo's head, only it's more like one would pet a cat than any sort of pat-pat motion. "Light's sake, I dunno where all you blokes were th'rest 'a me life. Kinda depressin' t'think about."

Orgo grins. "Don't know about th' rest o' us, but I've been right 'ere."

Mairèad sighs and turns so she's resting her cheek against Orgo's head. "Shame I wasn't around Stormwind much, then. It's like as soon as I started livin' here, errybody and their grandmother was declarin' undyin' devotion t'me... which I ent sayin' you are."
Mairèad says: But y'know what I mean.

Orgo shrugs. "Guess ya just must be special. Knew it th' moment I met ya."

Mairèad says: ...if you say I'm yer firefly. I mean. Honestly, I'm not -that- special. I jest talk to errybody. And I'm kind of a slut. And I jest wanna find true love, is that so wrong.
Mairèad pouts drunkenly.

Orgo snorts. "Nah, ain't nothin' wrong with any o' that."

Mairèad says: And see, y'know what th'trouble is? Th'trouble is that... I dunno what th'trouble is.

Orgo nods. "Yeah...Guess so?"

Mairèad says: Gundorf, sometimes, I wish that y'weren't me commandin' officer. Jest 'cause sometimes, I think thin's about you that y'shouldn't think about commandin' officers. I probably shouldn't have said that.

Orgo grins. "Good thing we ain't on duty, then."

Mairèad leans back finally, smirking and sort of flopping somewhat. "What would happen if we -were-?"

Orgo shrugs. "Not much, prob'ly. Ain't no rules about such things."

Mairèad says: Like bonin' y'mean?

Orgo shrugs. "Bonin', cuddlin', whatever."

Mairèad says: That's so it doesn't get lonely on th'field, right?
Mairèad says: It must get lonely on th'field.

Orgo shrugs. "Guess it might be. But it don't normally get too lonely out there. Not enough time t' worry 'bout it."

Mairèad says: I think that if I loved someone I was in a unit with, th'first thin' I'd wanna do after survivin' somethin' was bone 'em.

Orgo grins. "That's prob'ly a good idea, yeh."

Lísa yells: Guuundooooorf!

Orgo facepalms.

Lísa yells: Hallooooooooo?
Lísa blinks at Gryphon Hatchling.
Lísa says: Nice rat with wings.

Mairèad blinks drunkenly. She is sitting on Orgo's lap, holding a half drunk bottle of some -really- strong alcohol, and it takes her a moment to recognize Lisa. "...Mam! It ent a rat, it's a gryphon, Imma ride him when he gets big."

Lísa says: Well shit, don't go squishin' it ennytahm soon.
Lísa smiles warmly at her drunk littlest palerdin. "How y'feelin', littlest palerdin?"

Mairèad raises her bottle cheerfully, standing up. "Drunk!" she answers.

Orgo sighs sadly as Mairead stands up.

Lísa says: Figger 's better 'n dead, yahar?
Lísa says: Hey Gundorf, y'got me gun?

Orgo nods. "Made it, yeh. Ain't carryin' it 'round with me."

Lísa looks crestfallen! "Awr, don't go breakin' me heart, Orgo."

Mairèad says: Mam, Gundorf wants t'bone me! Like me dad! Me -birth- dad, though, not Mr. Crowe. He's th'good dad.

Lísa blinks.

Mairèad drinks more booze and almost falls over.

Lísa says: Whutabaht tha' She- woah there.
Lísa jumps forward to catch Mairead.

Orgo sighs, loudly. This is not how he expected this conversation to go.

Lísa looks down at Orgo, her eyes narrowing. "Lissen 'ere, Gundorf. Y'ain't fuckin' me daughter. No sir." She patpats Mairead's head and tries to ease her back down to the ground.

Orgo glares right back. "I ain't lookin' t' cause no trouble, but th' way I see it, she's a palerdin an' a soldier an' can make 'er own decisions."

Mairèad is eased back to the ground and just sits there and giggles. This isn't how -she- expected anything to go, either, but she's also drunk so it's hilarious.

Lísa says: Yahar, she might be old enough ter make 'er own decisions but 'm pretty sure she's got a furry friend. So watch whar y'dick goes.

Orgo grunts. "Ya done lecturin' me, then?"

Mairèad says: Awww, mam, don't worreh 'bout Gundorf. He's a good dorf... you'd like him lots. He'd be a good meantime friend, while Shep's figurin' out what he wants t'do with his life. But that wouldn't be fair and he's too nice fer me t'do that secretly.
Mairèad pats Orgo on the head.

Lísa frowns slightly. "Okies, darlin'. Whutevarrr y'say. Reckon it ain't m'job t'do tha' ennymore."

Mairèad says: But I appreciate it jest th'same. I mean, at least you come from a place where y'ent tellin' random dorfs t'stay outta me skivvies 'cause you want in.

Lísa snorts, "Yahar." Okay. Now mom feels guilty. "Well Gundorf, can y'show me th'gun t'morrah?"

Orgo nods. "I can do that, yeh."

Lísa says: Much thanks, darlin'.
Lísa casts a worried glance at Mairead.

Mairèad gives Lisa a slanted grin. She's been drunker. "Don't worreh 'bout me, mam. Jest been a bad week's all. I'll be fine. I know yer probably shippin' out soon, though, huh?"

Lísa says: Uh- yar. That 's gun'ter be th'plan. Tell Chad 'n Shep I said hi. I reckon y'be wantin' 'yer privacy.

Mairèad says: Light bless, mam.

Orgo sighs.

Mairèad says: She jest lectures 'cause she cares.

Orgo grunts. "More sighin' 'cause ya said ya wouldn't be doin' anythin' with me. Gonna wait for yer worgan fella."

Mairèad frowns and then leans in, kissing the corner of Orgo's mouth. "I'm sorreh. If y'didn't want me t'love you, I'd take you right now, right here. But... it ent fair t'you. And y'mean too much to me fer that."

Orgo scowls, grumbling. "Well, how ya ever gonna love me if ya don't start somewhere?"

Mairèad kisses Orgo's cheek again. "It ent that. I could, I probably could, but see... Shep's gunna be there, one way or another, and he ent gunna go away any time soon. Even if he told me tomorrow that he didn't evarrr wanna see me again..."
Mairèad says: ...Light-willin' that won't happen.
Mairèad says: But if it did, even if it did, I'd still take a while gettin' over him, and you'd jest be hurt in th'meantime.
Mairèad says: 'Cause you'd be in his shadow, and yer too good of a person fer that.

Orgo sighs. "I'd better get goin', then. I like ya, Mairead, I do. But I'm tired of bein' that fella t' everyone I like."

Mairèad sighs and sits back, obviously feeling exactly as bad about this as Orgo does. "I'm sorreh, Gundorf, I rilly -rilly- am. Part 'a me wishes thin's weren't this way, but... look, if y'didn't mean s'much to me, I'd jest say 'fuck it' and ride you like a bear."

Orgo stands up, sighing. "Not really sure why that's supposed t' make me feel better."

Mairèad says: ...'cause I don't wanna hurt you.
Mairèad says: Is what I'm tryin'a say.

Orgo pats Mairead's head. "You gonna be fine out 'ere, girl? Or do I need t' help ya someplace?"

Mairèad sighs, looking down forlornly. "I'll be fine. Jest need a bit alone, yahar? I'm sorreh. I'm rilly, -rilly- sorreh."

Orgo sighs. "I understand, girl. Wish lots o' happiness to you an' yer fella."

Mairèad holds Orgo's hand on top of her head. "I want you t'be happy too, Gundorf. And we're still rilly good friends, right?"

Orgo says: We're still friends, yeh. Just gonna go be alone fer a bit, okay?

Mairèad says: Alright. Light keep y'safe, Gundorf.
Mairèad squeezes Orgo's hand.

Orgo grins. "Night, miss palderin."

Mairèad says: Night, Gundorf.