Senkha & Oliver: June 4

Senkha says: So. Would you like me to do this gradually, or would you rather have it all pull through at once?

Macglynn says: ... Well, when y'go swimmin', it's best y'jus' jump in th' lake, not walk in.

Senkha nods, biting down hard on her lower lip. "I hope this isn't too much for you, then. Are you ready?"

Macglynn says: Fuck no. Go fer it.
Macglynn closes his eyes. "An' don't tell me when yer gunna."

Senkha also closes her eyes. "It'll take me a little while to warm up to it. You can relax for a bit." She furrows her brow in concentration.

Macglynn cracks an eye open and peers sideways at her. "Can y'talk?"

Senkha doesn't answer this; as soon as Oliver relaxes in the slightest, his body is flooded with sensation. It starts with pins and needles, as before, but quickly flares into full on sensation, spreading from his middle outward. It's not entirely pleasant as he can likely feel his swarm moving around inside of him and that grub, wherever it is, but the feelings are more real than they've ever been.

Macglynn reacts predictably. He wraps his arms around his middle and doubles over onto his side. He screams in pain, along with likely a variety of other feelings, and tries to dig his fingers into his gut. He bites into the dirt, which doesn't really silence him in the least because he is dead. "St-stop, still--!" He can't make words, but his thoughts are practically forced on her: He is still dead. Feeling is a bad idea. He needs to be alive.

Senkha watches her husband with alarm as he doubles over in pain; her brow furrows further, and her thoughts are panicked. This is too soon, far sooner than she'd planned on this happening, and she's terrified of doing it wrong. But, as happened a few nights before, life begins to return to him. The rot reverses itself; his swarm is evicted, as is that damn grub. A heartbeat. Breath. Warmth. All the while, Senkha is hazing her thoughts over pretty solidly.

Macglynn 's screams have faded into strained sobs, the sound of his voice becoming muffled by the grass as his throat mends and the sound becomes real. His flesh returns quickly, the swarm skittering off into the brush. His brown eyes clench tight shut and he shakes from laughter, his face wet with tears.

Senkha doesn't approach him as this transformation takes place, still sitting where she was. Her face is still furrowed in concentration, but otherwise, her expression and thoughts are unreadable and her hands are shaking.

Macglynn 's breath is sloppy, interrupted by his sobs and laughter. He tries pushing himself up and spits dirt from his mouth, coughing and retching on top of all the other mess. He stops laughing, vomits, and rolls onto his side again. "Too believable," he croaks

Senkha finally opens her eyes to look at him, her expression showing no relief. "Isn't that what you want?" she asks softly. "You want it to be real. It is real. This is reality."

Macglynn rolls onto his back- away from the puddle of bile- and allows his breath to even out. His hands are still shaking, though, and he tries to lift them. He slowly manages to do so and unsteadily tears off his gloves. His mind is running a mile a minute and he's not producing much actual cognitive thought.

Senkha just watches, still silent, expression still torn between concentration and agony. Her hands have dropped to the grass where she's tearing up dirt. Her knuckles have gone sheet white.

Macglynn 's eyes go wide and he sits up straight. His breathing quickens again and he looks around the lake as if he's never seen it before. His eyes dart around to his surroundings- Senkha, his gloves, the grass, his lap. His eyes settle on his right hand, which, though still shaking, is no longer sickly pale and full of holes. He brings his hand to his face, feeling the tears and restructured flesh.

Senkha closes her eyes again and gives a quiet sob, one that Oliver likely wouldn't even hear in his reverie. She lifts her dirty hands from the grass and covers her face.

Macglynn wipes his face off with the heel of his palm and snorts back the snot accumulated while sobbing. His eyes are squinted somewhat now, not used to being his real source of vision, and he gazes around the lake again, his eyes this time settling on Senkha. "Whut'do Ah do na'?"

Senkha has still covered her face with her hands; her voice is muffled when she answers. "I don't know. Whatever you want to do, I suppose."

Macglynn looks completely bewildered. "Whut'do Ah do? Shit, whut'm Ah s'posed to..." He takes his hands away from his face and looks down at them again. So many thoughts are rushing through his mind, thoughts that everyone has but never acknowledges- The air is cold, there's a tingle on my palm, there's an itch behind my ear, tiny itches, hundreds of itches, so many insignificant itches-- the ground is cold, too. I can feel my heartbeat. I can feel my chest rise when I breathe. I can feel the spit in my mouth. Insignificant details have become momentous events to him, and now that he's not stoned out of his mind to experience these things, it hits him hard.

Senkha clearly wants to enjoy this as much as he is. She wants to share in his wonder, but every time the looks over at him, it seems to cause her pain. She's kind of sobbing by now, though it's quiet and ragged.

Macglynn places his hands on the grass. For a moment he keeps them there, feeling the prickle of the blades and the cold soil underneath it. Finally, he pushes himself up, and he stands. There's a small pain in his lower back- right, that was there, wasn't it?- and he looks down at Senkha again. He now notices her sobbing and he steps over to her. He drops by her side and pulls her into a hug, finally getting to feel his wife in his arms. "Thank you."

Senkha is having a completely different experience from Oliver; she's not really in his arms. He's still sitting there, eyes closed, and she's still sitting there, crying quietly. And the illusion hurts because it's an illusion. "I love you," she whispers and leans against him, trying to will herself to believe what he's seeing is real as much as he believes it.

Macglynn kisses her everywhere- he can't help it. He's waited for this. Her cheek, her neck, the side of her head... when he stops, he gives a short laugh. "Senkha, what? Look! Look at me!"

Senkha looks up; she looks exhausted and far older than she has in weeks. She doesn't say anything, but in the back of his mind, behind the illusion, comes the command: --make me believe this.

Macglynn doesn't seem to respond to the command, perhaps so lost in the illusion that their mental 'gifts' are forgotten. However, from the depths of his mind answers a jolly 'NO'. Oliver, meanwhile, laughs again and says, "My son! Ah should fahnd my son!"

Senkha stares, her expression becoming one of horror. "Chadley?" she asks. "Didn't you find him months ago? Wasn't he here, in Stormwind, all this time? Haven't I been talking to him frequently?" Something in Senkha's mind responds to the 'NO' with a 'YAY!!'

Macglynn puts his hands on her shoulders and grips them, his mind still stumbling over the simple functions of life, and his words coming slowly. "No... no, Ah ain't dead na'. He'll speak t'me na'."

Senkha couldn't hate herself more than she does in this moment; this probably makes two mental presences very happy. "You should wait," she says after a moment's deliberation. "You're still getting used to it. You don't want to make a fool of yourself."

Macglynn looks off toward the city for a moment, his braintrain derailing for a moment to deliberate going anyway. He looks back at her- or, more specifically, his hands on her shoulders, and frowns. "Yer raht. But shit. Whut..." He reaches one hand up behind his shoulders, feeling the cross-guard of his blade. He leans back from her to remove the sword from his back, and rests it across his lap. "Wonder, then..."

Senkha reaches out for the blade as well, her movements quick and nervous. "Don't do anything too hasty. This won't last, remember? It's taking a lot of energy for me to keep it up."

Macglynn looks back up at her. "Whut won't last? Wait, y'mean this ain't gunna last?" There's a hint of panic in his voice.

Senkha sighs quietly and moves away. "You knew it wouldn't. I told you it wouldn't. I haven't the strength to keep it up, and anyway..." --It isn't real.

Macglynn looks absolutely heartbroken, and stares blankly ahead for a moment before nodding and saying, "Yeah, Ah did know that. Fuck me." The illusion seems to fade somewhat for him; it's more the typical "dream" now.

Senkha's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love. I can't make it last forever. I can't do it. I want to... I want it more than anything, but I... I just -can't-." If not for her cane, if not for that damnable leg, here is where Senkha would stand and run away in a dramatic fashion, but when she tries to stand, it's too quick and she drops back down, grunting in pain.

Macglynn says: Is it too hard?
Macglynn says: Also, try an' walk a little slower.

Senkha says: It's not too hard. But without me believing it as much as you do, I can't keep it up. And I -know-...I know that it's what you want, but it's something you can't have all the time. Everyone will see you as mad.
Senkha, for her part, sounds more angry with herself than anything.

Macglynn says: ... Wait, Ah was actin' out whut Ah were seein' fer real? Thought this all happened in m'head... Shit, Ah dun' even know whut goes on in there. Why d'you have t'b'lieve it? Ah'd always jus' play along.
Macglynn's mind is still obviously on overload, and he only stops rambling when he realizes how awful what he just said sounds.

Senkha looks down at her hands silently, pressing her fingers together. It takes a moment for her to speak. "It hurts, knowing that it isn't real. And it hurts you that I can't honestly play along. But I'm learning."

Macglynn says: Will y'look at me na'. Y'wouldn't then.

Senkha looks at Oliver now, her expression entirely pitiful. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I just wanted you to be happy."

Macglynn says: Ah don't much rumember th' way things feel. Simple, stupid shit that y'think y'could never ferget. When Ah'm given th' chance- th' chance ta have them things, it's...

Senkha says: --like a miracle.

Macglynn looks back down at his hands again. They're again a sickly pale, blemished with putrefaction and dotted with holes. "Ah hate this, Senkha. Ah hate this so much."

Senkha looks down again and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. "I know you do. I wish... I -pray- every night that somehow, some way, I'll be able to take that away. I don't know how I could even begin, though."

Macglynn laughs, somewhat unsoundly. "Oh Light, if only y'could."

Senkha says: It's all I would ever want for you. For us. I'd give up so much for that. I just... I want that for you. I want...
Senkha can't seem to make her words work, if only because her throat is squeezing shut and she can't stop crying. Cheer up, emo kid, gawd.

Macglynn looks up from his hands at the water. He's doing the exact opposite as Senkha, and has entered emotional shutdown. "Y'know magic does weird shit, one day somebody'll figger somethin' out."
Macglynn says: Jus' y'watch.

Senkha says: But at what cost? I can give it to you, but it's a finely crafted lie. That horrible Price bitch could give it to you, but at the cost of hundreds of souls. What would that kind of miracle cost?

Macglynn says: Shit, don't cost much t'make it happen.

Senkha says: For it to really happen, though?
Senkha says: For it to be real, without costing souls, without ending in five hours?

Macglynn says: Meant it don't take much t'make someone inna this.

Senkha presses her lips together and shakes her head. "That's cost a lot, too. Two souls: yours and the necromancer's."
Senkha says: That's not cheap.

Macglynn 's blade has been left on the grass. He looks down at it. After a long moment, he reaches out and pulls it to himself by the hilt, back across his lap. "It's true. Ah bet y'could fix my body, but not this."

Senkha simply nods and quietly touches the blade herself with a sort of surreptitious fondness. "I don't know anything that could fix that. If I did, you know there's nothing I wouldn't give."

Macglynn lifts the blade slightly, tracing the single finger with feeling along the groove left by the topmost glowing rune. A shimmering blue haze rises out like smoke at his touch. "Ah may never let it go m'self."

Senkha says: Why not?

"It's my blade," he says, trailing his finger along the next rune.

Senkha follows suit, reaching up to touch the topmost rune herself. "It's your soul," she says, meaning for it to come out more as a question, but that doesn't really happen.

Macglynn lifts his hand slightly from the blade and the blue haze clings before dispersing. He lowers his hand again and runs his finger along the edge. "It's jus' my blade."

"Just your blade," Senkha repeats. "I've seen what it does to you...to us. It's a lot more than a simple blade."

Macglynn says: This blade is a part 'a me. Don't think it's ever goin' anywhere, much Ah hate it. 'Cause it's my blade.

Senkha nods slowly, tracing her fingers along the second rune. "I don't completely understand myself, but perhaps I don't need to. It's yours. I wouldn't ever take it from you."

Macglynn says: Y'know, breakin' this thing'd free thousands 'a souls ter th' afterlife.

Senkha's hand stiffens against the blade, her expression quite tense. "I know. We've spoken of it before, remember?"

Macglynn smiles, though it's not really a happy smile. He trails his hand down the flat of the blade- over the runes, over her hand. "Th' horrors Ah committed wi' this thing. Y'say y'love th' fight, Senkha..."

Senkha speaks softly. "The dance. I love the dance. I don't love what comes of it."

Macglynn says: Th' blade makes me love it all.

Senkha says: I know. I've felt it.

Macglynn says: ... Tell me whut y'think 'a that.

Senkha presses her lips together and relaxes her hand against the blade. "I think that it's part of you. A part that you're right to hate. But..." She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, trying to think of the best way to put all of these reassurances that he'll probably just dismiss anyway. "You are the only... the -only- ...death knight I know who takes his lot in unlife for what it is, accepts it, and tries to do good with what he's given."
Senkha says: You hate what the blade makes you, but you've used it for good, even when it doesn't want you to. Think of all the Scourge you destroyed with it in Icecrown. Think of the demons you keep from attacking Surwich.
Senkha says: Destroying it would release thousands of souls, but that would also be suicide, and that's a mortal sin.
Senkha knows.

Macglynn says: ... That don't answer m'question, Senkha. Ah wanna know whut you think 'a whut you feel when we share th' blade.

Senkha closes her eyes and drops her hand. "I feel what you feel. That unbelievable ecstasy with every kill, with every soul. It makes the dance a thousand times more beautiful."

Macglynn says: That's whut y'feel. But whut d'you think 'a that?

"It's horrible," Senkha admits. "Horrible to take that joy in taking lives. Horrible to take that joy in taking souls." Now she's holding onto Oliver's arm; there's no telling what crazy husband will do tonight.

Macglynn says: An' yet y'want that some day fer yerself.

Senkha gives a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "All I want is more time. I don't want to be undead. I don't want to depend on a blade. I don't -honestly- want that. I want more years with you."

Macglynn says: An' whut'd you give up fer that?

Senkha snorts derisively and shakes her head. "Nothing I haven't lost already," she points out. "Lest we forget that particular incident." She sighs after a moment. "I suppose there's not anything I wouldn't give up for that. I know this makes me mad and a horrible person and I know Dad and Marius and Stehl and just about everybody I know would probably beat me for it. But it is what it is." She sounds completely resigned to her own insanity. Yep.

Macglynn says: ... Heavy use 'a nekermancy an' unholy magic will even'shully take th' soul an' rot th' body. But...

Senkha says: But?

Macglynn says: It's often used by those who ain't willin'a die jus' yet. Through unholy magic an' fleshcraft, y'kin extend yer...
Macglynn says: Y'kin live ha'ever long y'damn want.

Senkha blinks a few times and then takes a soft breath, shaky. "I don't want to live forever. I don't want to live too long for any reason other than to have more years with you. Is... would you want that?"
Senkha says: Because it'd be pointless for me to start learning something that will rob my soul and rot my body only to find out that you're not really that into it.

There is a very firm distinction in Oliver's mind between what he wants and what he knows to be the right thing. He doesn't answer her question, only clarifies his point further, "Y'already lost yer soul, y'do well t' remind me 'a this all th' tahm."

Senkha says: But would you want that? Would you want me to extend my life that way?

Macglynn says: It don't have t'be undeath. Many vain people use it to-
Macglynn stops himself. "Jus' ferget Ah said any 'a this."

Senkha drops her hands back to her lap, looking down at them. "You know that I won't. I hate that people would use it for vain reasons. To stay young and beautiful forever. I don't care if I look like you, as long as we have more time."
Senkha says: ...no offense.

Macglynn says: ... Maybe this is somethin' we should discuss fourty years from na', when it'll matter.

Senkha says: Maybe you're right. I'm sorry, love.

Macglynn says: Dun' apologize, Ah started talkin'.

Senkha says: You started talking because I couldn't keep the illusion up.
Senkha says: I'm sorry.

Macglynn says: Ah asked you t'do it knowin' it was jus' practice. Knew full well y'maht fail. So stop that.

Senkha says: I shouldn't have failed, though. The only reason I failed was because I couldn't handle it myself. I need to do better.

Macglynn says: That's th' point 'a practice.

Senkha says: But I don't know if I want to get better because it will only hurt us both if I do.

Macglynn says: ... Lettin' me have that don't hurt me.

Senkha says: It does when it ends. It does because I can't believe it, too, and because it isn't real. I could've done all that for you; I could've made you an entire world, but you would've had to wake eventually.

"LOOK AT ME!" he shouts suddenly, still clutching the blade in his arms. "Y'feel whut it's lahk, bein' numb t' ev'rythin', not enjoyin' sleep or th' taste 'a food. But y'still have it. End 'a th' day, y'still have it..."

Senkha shouts too! "It wasn't real! None of it was real, Oliver! Do you want me to LIE TO YOU like that?! Do you want me to make you believe you've made amends with Chadley, only to have you wake up and find him still avoiding you? Do you want to believe you could call on the Light again, only to wake up and find that it would destroy you?"

Macglynn 's voice lowers. "So don't make things up. Keep me from anythin' y'don't wanna make up. But Light'sake, Senkha, y'wanted me t' involve m'self with mental shit? Here y'go."

"Then you have to do your part as well." Senkha's voice is shaking, clearly on the verge of breaking entirely. "You're capable of making me believe it as much as you do. Do that for me, and I will create a world for you, and someday, we will stay there forever." She takes another deep breath, trying to calm herself and failing miserably. "But unless you will do that for me, I can't hurt you like that. I can't... I can't -lose- you to that." --isn't what we have enough? Aren't you happy with me, without being alive? Am I falling short that you need this?

Macglynn rests his elbows on his knees, letting the blade simply rest across his lap. "Light's sake, why d'you -think- that way? Senkha, Ah'm happy with you. But y'know whut? Ah got a wife Ah can't touch, a daughter whut can't be too close 'cause she maht git sick, an' a son that wun' talk t'me b'cause Ah'm a damned unholy freakshow. No, Senkha, Ah ain't happy."
Macglynn says: An' maybe it drives me jus' a little bit insane some days.

Senkha says: ...this wouldn't change any of that. It would only be a dream. But if you can somehow convince -me- that it's real for a time, I'll do the same for you. We can't stay there forever, but I'll do the same for you.

Macglynn says: Ah know that. Ah know it's only a dream, but hell, Ah dun' git ta do that very often either.

Senkha says: Will you do that for me, then? Will you make me believe it's real?

Macglynn says: Kin try... but promise me one thing.

Senkha says: What's that?

Macglynn says: Dun' let me run aroun' lahk a idiot. Make it jus' a plain dream someha'.

Senkha says: I will. I swear I will.