Senkha, Llew & Sidoni: June 2

Wheaton says: Hey!

Senkha blinks at her sudden stunt biker cousin. Her brace is nowhere to be found, her cane is resting beside her unused, and she is smiling like an idiot for no reason. "Hey! Where'd you come from?"

Wheaton comes around the RIGHT WAY and pulls his rumbling bike up behind his cousin. He promptly turns it off and hops away, quickly leaping up to where she sits. "The hell you doin', kiddo!" He beams, curling right around her a moment.

Senkha returns Llew's hug with more enthusiasm than she has in months, which is a good sign! "Mostly just thinking," she answers evasively, though it's not a bad sort of evasion. "Been spending more time in the city since my leg was mended. How are you doing?"

Wheaton releases Senkha, feeling all rightly warm and fuzzy. His right hand fallls across her lap and draws carefully down her once injured legs. "Right as fuckin' rain," he says. "You're lookin' pretty fuckin' good yourself, babygirl. S'a real surprise to see you in town!"

Senkha grins, letting her head drop on Llew's shoulder in a comfortable gesture. "Surwich got lonely," she admits. "Love it down there, and I needed the time alone, but I was ready to come back."

Wheaton's arm immediately curls around her. "Well I sure am real happy to see you. Things just ain't the same without my girl around." He kisses her head. "I sure do miss ya somethin' fierce."

Senkha's expression grows serious for a moment as she looks up at Llew. "I've missed you, too," she answers. "I'm sorry I've been distant. It was like... ever since coming back, it was like I was living in this cage away from the world."

Wheaton's other hand comes up to brush some of her hair back in a warm, familiar gesture. "Lotta shit happened, kiddo. I ain't ever stopped lovin' ya. Reckon I knew you'd be back." He smiles and nods at her. "Ain't nothin' in this world that can keep my girl down."

Senkha's grin returns. "Which, speaking of... not yet, because I'm not quite to the point where I can walk a lot without the cane, but d'you suppose you could reteach me what you taught me? I need to learn to dance again." She tugs Llew's arm around her shoulders a bit more firmly, further establishing the whole "missing you" thing.

Wheaton bumps her lightly and tightens the arm as beckoned. "Are you kiddin'? It'd be my pleasure."

Senkha says: I'm glad to hear that. I've been... well. I'm basically aching to have that outlet again. The mental stuff is all well and good, but nothing compares to dancing like that, you know?

Wheaton nods, smiling crookedly. "I ain't got the mind propensity you got by a long shot. But there ain't nothin' like dancin'. Especially when you got a good partner." His eyes (he's wearing a glass one these days that doesn't quite look real) turn down to her legs. "Those gams up for it? Reckon we outta ease you into it, yeah?"

Senkha nudges Llew a little, smirking. "You've got something. You wouldn't have been able to reach me when I was sleeping otherwise. And I don't know that my legs are up to it yet, but I'd be willing to try, if you're willing to explain to Oliver if I can't walk afterwards."

Macglynn will know the truth.

Wheaton chuckles, nudging her back. "How about we start out small. Gotta learn to walk before you can run, yeah? We'll get ya a real good work out to get them muscles built back up. Get your balance evened out and make sure you're good and steady." He glances behind him momentarily, feeling like he's being watched.

Senkha has a husband in her brain. It's okay, Llew. She nods and hugs him again. "That sounds like a good idea. I'd ask Oliver to train with me, but his fighting style kind of involves a lot of bugs and things that aren't... well, not quite dancing."

Wheaton nods at that. "That big old lug ain't so pretty on his toes as me, I'd bet," he chuckles warmly.

Senkha chews on her bottom lip. "He... he -can- be. Just he's not used to moving like that, so it doesn't happen often."

Wheaton grins and leans toward her a little more, whispering overly loud. "You're supposed to agree with me and inflate my ego further." He pulls back, chuckling. "You just let me know when you wanna start. Hell, if Oliver wants to learn, bring him along. We'll make it a family affair." He laughs a little brighter. "An' you can help me with my depth perception by throwin' things at me while we're at it."

Senkha says: That's right, you've got -that- to relearn, too. I like your eye, by the way. It's dashing.

Wheaton sits up straighter and clears his throat. "Made it myself!"

Senkha's smile widens significantly. "Should've known! How does your new wife feel about it? And how are you liking married life?"

Wheaton 's smile softens a bit. "It's real great. Real, real good. I love that girl to pieces, Sennie. Me an' her have so much fun t'gether. It's like havin' my best friend all the time. She likes the eye. Better'n no eye anyway. An' she says the patch scares kids."

Senkha grins. "Just tell them you're a pirate and they'll get over it. Or come up with a great story about it. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, though. And I'm glad you two had a much calmer first month of marriage than we did." She winks at Llew. Something familiar also flicks at the back of his mind, not quite meaning to, but there just the same.

Wheaton settles against Senkha, gazing off at the water. Until that little nudge in his head. Something in there responds to it by lifting to push back at her and then retreating. Llew takes a deep breath. "He still comes out sometimes," he says quietly. Wheaton 's smile is still there, but fading more as the moments pass.

Senkha shudders at the push back; not a movement of discomfort, more one of familiarity. "He always will," she states quietly. "When you're threatened or when you're angry or when you're just overwhelmed. It's why he's there. Why -she's- there."

Wheaton frowns thoughtfully. His gaze moves from the water to the sky. "He don't seem to like Sid too much."

Senkha presses her lips together a moment before deciding hey, if you can't talk to your cousin-brother-father-figure-thing, who can you talk to? "She likes Oliver. Likes his Guardian more, though. It's... awkward." That's a good word for it, yep.

Wheaton chuckles slightly at that, shaking his head. "Tell me about it. He doesn't seem to really like anybody but ..." He nudges her.

Senkha swallows hard, not looking at Llew. That little flicker at the back of his mind returns. "Most of the ones I've encountered do," she admits in a low voice. "Oliver's. Yours. Marius'. Dizzy's. No idea why." She laughs, though it comes out a little hoarse.

Wheaton closes his eyes momentarily with that little tug. He remembers. "She's a charmer, that one," he rumbles.

Senkha's hands tense slightly against her legs and then relax. "She tortured Oliver," is the next admission. "That's why she likes him. She broke him. And then Marius taught me to control her, but sometimes I want to let her out again."

Wheaton blinks slightly, and looks over at Senkha. Surprise is not a strong enough word for the expression on his face. "She did -what-? How?"

Senkha's voice remains low; she doesn't look at Llew as she speaks. "Tortured him. I was angry because he was obstinately going to do something stupid. He walked away and I lost control. She took over. She made him relive his death again. And again. And again."
Senkha says: For days afterwards, he was kneeling to me...to -her-, really. It was horrible.

Wheaton watches her a moment longer and then turns his gaze back out to the water. "Shit," he grunts. "Maybe she ain't so charmin' after all."

Senkha nods, still not looking at Llew. It's pretty clear that reliving this incident makes her uncomfortable, but there's still that flicker at the back of his mind. "It's their instinct. They destroy the threats to us. She saw Oliver as a threat."

Wheaton clears his throat lightly, and draws his cigarettes out of his front shirt pocket with his free hand. The other is still firmly around his cousin. "Does she see me as a threat? She keeps pokin' at me."

Senkha swallows hard a few more times. Her eyes dart to the cigarettes. "You're the one who taught us to dance. She -likes- you." The way she says this makes it sound like a much worse fate.

Wheaton tucks one of his smokes between his lips, and with that same hand, he lights it with a small flint lighter. He nudges the little tin toward her in offering. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Senkha takes a cigarette gladly and holds it between her lips, leaning over for a light. "I don't know if it is or not." She shrugs slightly. "She likes Oliver's Guardian. She likes Marius. One bad, one good. And she likes you."

Wheaton lights the cigarette for her, and then tucks his lighter and pack into his shirt pocket once again.
Wheaton says: She likes me? or she likes -him-?
Wheaton glances over at her.

Senkha takes a long drag and exhales slowly. "Both. I think. She's part of me... she knows she's your girl." She still isn't looking at Llew and that flickering still hasn't stopped.

Wheaton lets out a small chuckle. It's an awkward chuckle. He takes a long drag and suddenly shifts, rolling his shoulders. There's another push back and his head tilts in a manner as if he is trying to pop his neck. His shoulders tense. "Reckon she is," he says quietly. That push was solid, and it remains there a long moment, looming. It isn't afraid as it had been once, though it does withdraw a moment later as quickly as it appeared.

Senkha tenses at this, closing her eyes and inhaling in a soft hiss. She exhales slowly after a moment, smoke trailing out of her mouth and nose. "She's missed him, too," she states the obvious.

Wheaton murmurs: "I can tell." His voice is quiet. So very quiet. He may not have actually spoken at all. The hold around Senkha's shoulders remains, though it isn't quite as tight as it was minutes ago. One more drag and that thing is there, standing tall and proud. It is dark as ever, both physical and not physical, a tattered shadow beaten in an unseen wind. It has no face, but it smiles. It is the one beckoning this time.

Senkha laughs in a voice that isn't quite her own, her eyes taking on a soft red glow in the smoke that rises from her mouth. "Hello, Shadow." She sounds most pleased, though she still looks entirely Senkha-like, save for that slight glow.

The smile that is not a smile expands into a maw of black that grows so large it swallows it's own head to become a faceless, only slightly head-shaped mass atop that wavering, shadowy body. It whispers to her two words that sound like Llew, but echo upon themselves quieter and faster each repeat. "Little girl little girl littlegirllittlegirllittlegirl...."

Senkha laughs again at this, softly and almost melodically. Her skin has grown paler, her form more emaciated, her eyes a brighter red. "Baaaaad things happen when I come out to play." The words are almost singsongy.

Wheaton reaches out to her, his hand touching her face and yet passing through her. That unseen wind that beats his edges so mercilessly does not touch her. It is so loud and his body so undone by it, but it touches nothing but him. "I like to watch you play play playplayplayplay....."

Senkha leans her head towards that unseen hand; as it brushes over her features, her hair vanishes and the bright red glow begins to emanate from beneath her clothes. "And what shall we play today, hm? What shall we riptearkilldestroy today?"

Wheaton leans close, whispering in her ear. The words are layered atop each other rather than a string of suggestions. "Rip his heart out. Scar her face. Kill her innocence. Destroy him." Shadow knows who he means, but does not specifiy the people he refers to. "EatKillPreyFuckSleepDream dream dreamdreamdream." The shadow caresses her face.

Senkha leans into the touch further, the last traces of her real figure melting away until only the Guardian remains. "All of that and more, all that you want. Leadmeshowme, I want to seefeeldance."

"I will show you teachyouholdyouloveyou. Just like I used to." The Shadow's hand turns over so it is the back of his cold knuckles that drag across her lacerated flesh. There is a face forming there in the constantly rolling blackness -- like the face of a drowned man floating just below the surface of oil-slicked water. The faintest glow begins to burn in what should be eye sockets. "I need her needherneedherneedher... I need you need youyouyouyou. Make her better."

Itzhal--not Senkha--finally rises, holding that shadowy, wispy hand to her cheek and against her ruined skin. "You have me, mine. She will be well soon enough and we will dance again. We can dance now, if you like." She twirls away from him, laughing. If she were a less horrifying figure, it might be charming and sweet, even playful. As it is, it's a mockery of that innocence.

Horrifying she may be, but he loves her still. He wants to possess her. Wherever she leads, he will be a step behind, just as he knows she would follow him if he but beckoned her. "Dance for me, my love," he calls to her so quietly. "You are not the broken. You are the breaker."

Itzhal does dance for him, the same playful dance Senkha may have done as a child at the circus, only twisted and horrifying. "As are you," she calls out in her singsong voice. "I want to teach you as you have taught me. I want to make you stronger. I want you to meet the others." Her fingers brush against him with every twirl, playful, taunting.

There is a strong pulse of obsessive jealousy at the mention of 'others'. He fades from view in a whirlwind of nothing and reforms on the opposite side of her. "What others," he hisses.

Itzhal stops her dance as he reappears before her but simply laughs and twirls away in another direction. "Mahkta is a bear. She is the daughter's. I don't like her very much. Ximos belongs to the Father and she is beautiful. And then there is -Him-." The word is laced with meaning; whoever "He" is, Itzhal clearly values him highly.

Once again he dematerializes and reforms on another side of her to stop her from twirling away. "Who is -He-. Tell me tell me tellmetellmtellme..."

Itzhal is in his arms, not questioningly; she's used to this jealousy and desire to possess because she is a brane whore. "-He- is Virh. The husband's Guardian. He let me break the husband. He is the reason we live."

He holds her there, keeping her close. The glowing eyes flare a moment, a sickly yellow that pullses through the shadowy face, proving how hollow it is. "You are mine mine mineminemine," he whispers without speaking. "I made you."

Sidoni has just finished working at the Tidecutter all day. Her hands are rough and red from handling the ropes, and she's smoothing lotion onto them as she makes her way back to the Tram. She sees the pair sitting there on the side of the canal. Grinning in that crooked way she has, she wanders to her husband's side, nudging his shoulder with her knee, and ruffles his hair lightly. "Evenin', baby. Evenin', Senkha." The perfume of salt and sea spray clings to her, and the lotion itself is faintly spicy.

"I belong to nobody and everybody," the playful voice taunts, drawing in close, though hissing when Sidoni approaches. "Who is thisssss...?"

Wheaton's cigarette is all but burned down to the quick, inches of ashes undisturbed suddenly coming loose and floating down to the water as he turns. As his eyes meet Sidoni, for a moment he looks startled and not at all like himself. The expression he wears is foreign. He swallows hard, pushing something down deep and then smiles crookedly, and flicks the rest of his cigarette to the water. "Hey, baby."
"His wife his wife hiswifehiswifehiswife," the shadow echoes, and suddenly it is gone.

Sidoni looks down at him, concern flitting across her features a moment - furrowed brow, tightened lips. "How's everythin' goin'?" She looks between the two of them and then settles at Llew's side, legs dangling over the side of the canal and her hand running down his spine.
Sidoni smiles quickly over at Senkha.

There is one quiet whisper, barely there. "Biding my time," it hisses, the worlds long and drawn out. "He is ... herss...."

Senkha is without her leg brace and her cane lies beside her, not being used. "Well, very well indeed. Oliver and I are spending more time in the city, now that my leg is nearly healed."

Wheaton coughs, wiggling his fingers to rid himself of the ashes settled on his skin. He sniffs and smiles, and puts his free arm around Sid. "Gonna reteach her everythin'," he says, the pride lifting on his face.
Wheaton says: It'll be just like old times.

The laugh is conspiratorial, childlike, playful. "No. She is -yourssss-. You will see. I will show you how. You will break her or be free of her."

"Yeh, it's been a right while since we seen ya." She pauses, considering this. "Shit, jes 'bout a month now, ain't it."

Wheaton nods at this.

Sidoni looks between the two of them again, grinning. "Ain't gonna let them good legs go t'waste, yeh?"

Senkha smiles fondly at Llew. "About a month, yes. The time in Surwich did wonders for my health. Now it's just a question of relearning what I almost lost."

Sidoni says: Reckon that'll all come back real easy. Mebbe me an' Oliver can sit an' drink an' watch th'two of ya dickin' around.

There is only that beating wind left. That wind that touches nothing. There is nothing. And suddenly, silence.
Wheaton smiles between his two best girls, still looking a little bit off. "Figure we'll start her off just buildin' her muscles back first."

Senkha says: That's probably wise. It's been ages since I've really walked without the brace or the cane.

Sidoni nods. "Th'fuck ever works," she agrees. Slipping her hand away from Llew's back, she stretches her arms out in front of her and eyes her hands with a frown. She's not been on the ship and the seas as much lately, and it shows in the rope burns and lack of callouses. "Gotta start small."

Wheaton smiles at this and reaches out to grab one of those injured hands, which he brings to his lips.
Wheaton says: You done for the day finally?

Sidoni smiles at that and brings her hands to her lap once more, massaging one with the other. "Yep. Everythin's all in order."

Senkha coughs and flexes her fingers as if trying to get feeling back in them. Something strange crosses her face but it's gone before it can be much more than a passing shadow.

Sidoni says: You two was lookin' right serious 'bout yer smokes.

Senkha says: Just mulling some things over is all. Talking a few things out.

Wheaton coughs again and releases Senkha to dig his cigarettes from his front pocket (keeping hold on the wife this time). He nods at this, and tucks another smoke between his lips.

Sidoni smiles. "Good. Sounds like ya worked summat out jes fine." She takes that smoke from Llew's lips and puts it between her own.

Wheaton allows this and smiles at her. He offers another to Senkha. "Reckon things are gettin' back to normal," he says gently.

Senkha says: Normal indeed. Though normally, I'd have some idea where Oliver was.

Wheaton grins. "Give ya the slip, did he? He's probably off shmoozin' some young girl somewhere." He winks.

Sidoni just nods. What the hell is normal here? She doesn't really know. She's hardly spent time around them that didn't involve Llew being a dumbass in a criminal kinda way.

Wheaton says: That's what I do when I give Sid the slip.

Sidoni says: Yeh, cept th'young girls go runnin' off in fear wonderin' why the one-eyed grampa's tryin' t'touch their no-no spots.
Sidoni says: Mebbe Oliver's havin' better luck.

Wheaton laughs warmly at this.

Sidoni leans closer to Llew, pulling away her cigarette to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

Senkha laughs as well, that strangeness crossing her face again and lingering longer. She stands quickly. "I should find him, wherever he is. If I do, I'll bring him back here."

Sidoni looks up at Senkha, and then down at the cane. That was a pretty quick movement indeed. "Good luck."

Wheaton kisses his fingers and swipes his hand at his cousin. "Yeah, alright."
Wheaton then drapes around Sid a little more firmly.

Senkha repeats this movement towards Llew and waves at Sidoni. "Any luck and I'll be back soon." She takes up her cane and begins to move away, still moving more quickly than she ought to be.
Senkha says: Light bless.