A Typical Night in Cathedral Square

Mairèad half looks up from her libram and jumps to see Bryn, as if expecting anything but the other girl sitting there. "Oh! Light, I wasn't expectin' you there."

Bryn deadpans, "I be errrwhar."
A sly smirk spreads across Bryn's face.

Mairèad says: Yer like magic or somethin'.

Bryn says: I'ma wizard.
Bryn says: In disguise.

Mairèad glances across the Square to where Shepard is talking. "How're you doin', then, wizard?"

Bryn follows her gaze curiously, "Hungover. You?"

Mairèad says: Well, Stehl's turnin' into rill fire and yelled at me last night and I hugged a deader and fought with Shep, but then we made up, and... hopefully thin's are good. I hope. Distractin'.

Bryn says: ... uh-huh.
Bryn says: I wish I could say that sounds outta th'ordinary.

Mairèad says: No, y'rilly don't. Shep told me about all th'outta the ordinary thin's what happened today, like that elf over there? With th'pigtails? Y'don't wanna be part 'a that shit.

Bryn says: Mefinks enny elf wiff pigtails 's somfin' I don' wanna be part of.

Mairèad says: That one fer special. She's th'type what goads people into hittin' her and then gets pissy when they do.

Bryn says: Sounds rill, uh, special.

Mairèad says: That's one word fer it.

Taylinda sighs softly before running over to the bench and throwing up her hands in exhausperation. "I don't goad anyone! Quiet with your slander! Sheesh!"

Mairèad says: Yahar, y'do.

Bryn stares Taylinda down.

Taylinda says: No, I don't. You're not in my bloody head.

Mairèad says: Don't hafta be. It don't gotta do with yer head. It's gotta do with yer behavior.

Bryn says: ... Hoi, y'dress like a whore an' sound like an even dumber whore.

Mairèad says: I wasn't even -talkin'- t'you.
Mairèad says: You talked t'me.

Bryn says: Yer th'one tha' keeps goin' back t'her.

Taylinda says: ...This is whorish? Then...
Taylinda points at Feloraea.
Taylinda says: SHe's a whore too?
Taylinda says: And she?
Taylinda points at Juhla.

Mairèad says: Th'point: yer missin' it.

Taylinda says: Oh heck that lady has an exposed naval.

Mairèad makes a whoosh sound, zooming her hand over her head.

Bryn snickers at Taylinda.

Taylinda says: So pretty much you called half the women here a whore. What a nice person.

Mairèad says: Think all her brains went into her pigtails.

Bryn says: Maybe 's like how bugs don't have brains just spines.
Bryn says: So like...

Bryn says: Her spines are in her pigtails.
Bryn says: Yeah.
Bryn says: Makes sense.
Bryn says: Oh look, she turned into a cat.

Mairèad says: Somehow, I ent surprised.

Bryn laughs.
Bryn says: We can leave it at "dumb bint 's dumb".
Bryn says: I don' see elves. I see purple humans.
Bryn says: Purple humans everywhere.

Mairèad says: Their ears are too long.
Mairèad says: Humans don't got ears that long.

Bryn says: But I wanna be an elf now.
Bryn says: Me name is Bryn N'ounverb Gobblypoo Adj'ectivebutt.

Mairèad peers searchingly at Bryn. "...are y'drunk again?"

Bryn says: Hungover.
Bryn says: Mebbe a wee bit buzzed.

Taylinda sighs softly and walks down the road, her ears drooped and her head low.
Taylinda sighs softly and glances between random people. "I don't get it..."

Bryn sets her hand on her forehead. "Oh, I don't get it. Why ev'ryone 's a stupid twat t'me. I am a snowflake in a world of yellow snow on a plain of snowiness."
Bryn says: Hoi... oaky. Maybe a wee bit drunk. Buzzed. I said buzzed.

Artim says: I think you should blame the one that turned the snow yellow, though. Go talk to him about it.

Bryn says: Well th'fucktit tha' pissed in'the snow deserves a punch in the throat.

Mairèad says: ...how buzzed is buzzed, Bryn?

Artim says: But that fucker ruined it all.

Bryn says: I'unno.

Mairèad says: How many drinks?

Bryn says: ... define drinks.

Mairèad says: Alcoholic beverages.

Bryn says: What d'yeh call them wee glasse- Oh. Shots. Um... fiiiive shots.
Bryn says: Close.

Mairèad says: ...-five- shots?

Artim says: If they say five, it was really more than ten.

Bryn says: To somfin' like tha'.
Bryn says: I said 'm buzzed.
Bryn says: Not drunk.

Artim says: And if they say ten, it was.. alot.

Bryn says: Nyeeeh.

Mairèad says: Bryn, y'ent but wee and y'ent got a great tolerance I don't think.

Artim says: She wasn't completely shitfaced.

Bryn says: I can see straight!
Bryn says: Mebbe I jus' act too seeryus 'round you.

Artim says: .. how many fingers am I holding up?
Artim raises four digits.

Bryn stares Artim down.
Bryn says: Four fuck yous an' a kick t'the purple balls.

Artim --one is a thumb. Derp.
Artim says: You're so polite, humie.
Artim says: I wonder why you were drinking in the first place.

Bryn says: Yer so edgy an' cool, elfy.

Artim says: Hell to the fuckin' yes.

Bryn says: I wanna be like you when I grow up.

Mairèad says: Bryn, yer... y'sound li--

Bryn says: Wiff th'headband an' shit.

Artim says: You're probably older than me.
Artim says: Oldy-pants.

Mairèad sighs and shakes her head, her previous cheerful mood dissipating. "Nevarrmind."

Artim says: -McCrabby.

Bryn says: Crabby? Naw, only hoors get tha'.
Bryn says: In th'pants.

Artim says: Zing.

Bryn says: So watch out fer ennyfin' wiff pigtails.
Bryn says: I hear they got all th'fun stuff down souf.

Artim says: Pigtails make women look stupid.

Bryn says: Ayerp.

Sidoni yells: Wilhiem! Ya big ol'hunkin' handsome piece of manmeat! Where are ya, heart of my heart?!

Wilhiem yells: C'here, you.

Bryn freezes. That voice.

Mairèad looks up at the sky. "...was that...?"

Bryn says: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Mairèad says: Bryn, don't do anythin' stupid. She's jest an old bitch with saggy tits.

Bryn covers her face with her hands, cursing rapidly and loudly.

Artim says: ...
Artim says: Kiss your mother with that mouth?

Bryn says: People tell me me mam was a fifteen year old drug addled whore.

Artim says: She's probably right, though.

Bryn says: So mebbe.

Mairèad says: ...Light's sake.

Artim says: Human.

Mairèad says: And I don't kiss me mam, she don't swing that way. But she's worse'n I am, so...

Artim says: You're my new best friend.

Bryn says: Don' wanna be yer bes' friend. Y'look stupid.

Artim says: Too bad.
Artim says: Now we can skip through the forest, and have a fucking tea party.

Bryn says: Aw fuck yiss.

Artim says: Cuddle our new-found forest friends.
Artim says: Water some gods-damned flowers.
Artim says: Make a fuckin' leaf pile.
Artim says: And jump in that shit.

Bryn says: Hey knife ears, leave her be.

Artim says: -What?

Bryn says: Let her grow some fuckin' flowers.

Artim says: I don't--

Mairèad says: Bryn...

Bryn scowls.
Bryn gives the thumbs up. It's k.

Artim says: You humans are fucked up, okay?

Mairèad murmurs something to Bryn.
To Bryn: "I know yer drunk and sad and pissed, but... this is jest makin' thin's worse."

Bryn says: Yer mum is.

Artim says: That's how she had me, humie.
Artim says: Damn good move, if I say so myself.
Artim says: --Which I do.

Teristha says: Stop acting like children.

Artim says: We're not acting like children.
Artim says: -Duuuuh.

Bryn grunts crossly.

Artim says: I can't help but notice, humie.
Artim looks to Bryn.
Artim says: You seem angry.
Artim says: Or are you always like this?

Bryn says: An' you seem t'haff daddy problems. Are y'always like tha'?

Artim says: Seeing as he was killed not long ago.

Teristha says: I'm not angry, perhaps if you looked at me you might understand why I have this growl to my voice.

Artim says: Yes.

Bryn says: Prollum solved.

Artim says: Meh.

Bryn says: Now go away.

Artim says: Damn, humie.
Artim says: You need to get -laid-.

Bryn says: I would.
Bryn says: But me boyfrien' is dead.

Artim says: Should-a, could-a, would-a.
Artim says: Go fuck around.
Artim says: -Oh, he's dead?
Artim says: Finally drove him to the breaking point?

Mairèad turns and -glares- at Artim. "Shut. Up."

Artim says: Damn, humie.
Artim says: Simmer the fuck down.

Teristha glares at Artim, "You should stop while you are ahead."

Artim leans in, hands set on his hips.

Mairèad says: I dunno -who- y'think you are, but yer actin' like a cuntwaffle with extra syrup.

Artim says: Noted.
Artim says: You can sit down now.

Mairèad says: Leave her alone.

Bryn says: Oh yeah, totally did. To th'point where his bes' friends broke his legs and drove a sword through his gut.

Artim says: Are -all- human women like this?

Mairèad says: She won't talk t'you, you don't talk to her. G--

Artim says: Oh, well.

You stare Bryn down.

Artim says: Tha's a shame.
Artim says: Sorry 'bout that.

Bryn says: Don't matter now.
Bryn shrugs. Who knows?

Artim says: Better luck next time, right?

Mairèad throws up her hands. "Y'know, I give up. Do what yer gunna do."

Artim says: Good.
Artim nods at you.

Mairèad sits again with a clank and a grunt. "I don't fuckin' care."

Artim shakes his head, muttering in Darnassian.

Bryn says: Fun times.
Bryn pats Mairead on the head.

Artim says: Your idea of fun and mine are quite different.

Bryn says: Sod off.

Artim says: What the hell does that mean?
Artim says: Do you just make up your own insults on the spot?
Artim says: .. they're not that good.

Teristha says: In essence, leave.

Mairèad looks back in Shepard's direction again and just stares straight ahead at the Cathedral steps. Her cheek is twitching.

Artim sighs heavily, gaze darting briefly to the two sitting on the bench. He shakes his head, turning to leave. As he walks by Bryn, his hand would move to simply pat her on the head as he passed.

Bryn mumbles a quiet apology to Mairèad. "I'll try harder t'morrow..."

Mairèad says: No. Do or don't. There's no try.
Mairèad says: Either drink or don't drink.

Bryn says: I-I'll... I'll try.
Bryn says: 'm glad you 'n Shep made up.
Bryn says: 'm late fer shit.

Mairèad grunts and leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees. She rests her head in her hands and just sighs.

Destiany peered down to the woman. "you alright?"

Mairèad says: Yahar, I'm fine.
Mairèad says: This place jest gets to you.

Destiany says: The Cathedrial? Might I ask to why?

Mairèad looks up at Destiany with a laugh of disbelief. "Yer new here, ent you?"

Destiany offered a nod. "I am, well not new. I lived in the city when younger."
Destiany says: Might it be to much to ask if you might fill me in? I seen much changed.

Mairèad shrugs a shoulder nonchalantly. "I dunno how th'city's changed meself. I've onleh been here since December. But... well, sit around th'Square a day. Th'shit that happens here's enough to drive anyone insane."

Teristha says: The park nearby is gone.

Destiany smiled to her. "I agree, and I have and seen some things I do not agree fully with."
Destiany says: But that little matter. What troubles you tonight? The odd elf with the magazines?

Mairèad groans and shakes her head, the groan turning into a disbelieving laugh. "It is a -long- story, miss. A very long story."

Destiany says: Well, should you ever wish share it. I would welcome to hear. Even bring the coffee.

Mairèad chuckles. "Make it rum and I might take you up on it."

Destiany says: I'll bring a jug worth.

Mairèad says: Fer this story, y'might wanna make it a bathtub's worth.

Destiany says: If you have the time, I can grab my husband and we could dive in...to the rum at least.

Mairèad says: Eh, I can't right now. I'm supposed to wait -right here-.
Mairèad looks over towards where Shepard is talking yet again, expression somewhat tense.

Destiany says: Of course, you have a pleasant evening.

Mairèad spots Shepard and exhales through pursed lips. She manages a highly forced... and there they go. Smile gone.

Thanatosá says: Vandrin.

Teristha says: All is well, I assume.

Sidoni peeks around the side of the tree.

Wilhiem tosses the flute up, twists it, catches it again.

Vandrin swats a hand behind him. "Not now."

Thanatosá says: Verywell.

Shepard makes a point of ignoring Teristha for the moment, looking to Wilhiem. He nods.

Thanatosá says: Limited time offer however, so be a little nicer next time.

Wilhiem clicks his tongue. He raises a thin silver flute to his lips and starts up a fluent, simple melody.

Shepard follows suit with a soft, melancholy voice. He's singing!
Shepard says: There's an old tale wrought with the mystery of Tom the Poet and his muse, and the magic lake which gave a life to the words the poet used.

Shepard says: Now the muse she was his happiness and he rhymed about her grace, and told her stories of treasures deep the blackened waves.

Vandrin reaches for Emirdelle's hand.

Shepard spares Vandrin a glance as he continues, never breaking the pace.

Mairèad glances over, the smile threatening to return.

Shepard says: 'Till in the stillness of one dawn still in its mystic crown, the muse she went down to the lake and in the waves she drowned.

Wilhiem 's melody matches to accompany Shepard's voice perfectly- almost. He's nervous, he'd slip every now and then.

Emirdelle quirks a brow at Vandrin.

Sidoni rubs the back of her neck. She is staring -intently- at Wilhiem from her place hidden behind the tree.

Shepard says: And now to see your love set free, you will need the witch's cabin key. Find the lady of the light gone mad with the night, that's how you reshape destiny.

Vandrin says: Interesting story.

Wilhiem looks down to the ground - thank god. Otherwise he'd be dealing with Sid-eyes.

Teristha says: It is.

Shepard smiles at Vandrin, crossing his arms as he looks to Wilhiem. He's gonna let him have a solo.

Vandrin looks at Emirdelle. "And suprisingly relevant. You're a constant beacon of hope in an otherwise crumbling society."

Mairèad watches Vandrin and Emirdelle with interest, tilting her head to the side. What.

Wilhiem 's melody soon comes to a climax - descends, faints down to light fluttering. His fingers move about the surface of the flute, just barely.

Shepard leans back some, arms folding behind him. Some might see the faintest glow of the Arcane.

Emirdelle was lagging hardcore.

Sidoni has one hand raised, covering her mouth. She might be trying very very hard not to laugh.

Shepard thinks Emi should say something sweet about Vandrin.

Emirdelle ...Can't think of anything =/

Mairèad suggests calling him her hero.

Teristha thinks it would be easier if Vandrin showed his face... ever.

Wilhiem is running out of breath. He lets a note linger.

Sidoni facepalms. Except she uses the tree as her palm.

Sidoni glances sidelong at Wilhiem.

Shepard grunts, keeping the smile. His right eye is twitchng, though.

Wilhiem ...may or may not be playing the Jeopardy theme.

Vandrin does a high pitched voice, imitating that of a woman's. "Love you too."
Vandrin bites his bottom lip, hard. He sighs -happily-, or so it sounds, then walks off with Emirdelle's hand in his. His bottom lip was practically bleeding.

Emirdelle says: Sorry.

Shepard sighs, but takes what he can get. Instantly, a small cloud forms above... and it begins to rain. The glow of the Arcane vanishes.

Vandrin says: It's cool.
Vandrin gently pats Emirdelle.

Wilhiem attempts to hide a snort. He, then, clears his throat and starts the melody anew.

Emirdelle says: Just another thing I'm horrible at.

Shepard goes back to singing!
Shepard says: The poet came down to the lake to call out to his dear. When there was no answer, he was overcome with fear.

Vandrin says: Oh, hush.

Shepard says: He searched in vain for his treasure lost and too soon the night would fall, and only his own echo would wail back at his call.

Emirdelle says: It's true.

Mairèad blinks at Shepard. She had no idea he could do that! But the sight of the rain brings an almost wistful smile to her face.

Vandrin says: Stage pressure, is all. You were fine.

Shepard says: And when he swore to bring back his love by the stories he'd create, nightmares shifted in their sleep in the darkness of the lake.

Emirdelle says: I was never a...Theater type? i don' tknow....

Shepard says: And now to see your love set free, you will need the witch's cabin key. Find the lady of the light still raving in the night, that's how you reshape destiny.

Vandrin gives her a gentle, quick hug. "You were fine, Emi. Thanks for doing that for me."

Wilhiem struggles to scratch his nose while still playing.
Wilhiem STRUGGLES.

Sidoni comes swaying around the tree, pressing one hand to the lamppost to support herself, as though viklempt. Whatever sort of adjusting she's done, her cleavage looks fantastic. Her gaze comes to rest on Wilhiem, and although her full lips part, she speaks not a word. She's totally banging him with her eyes, who needs words when she's doing that?

Mairèad watches Sidoni now with a perplexed expression. She seems to be holding in a whole -slew- of giggles, though.

Shepard pauses again, gaping at Sidoni. Then he slooooowly looks to Wilhiem.

Sidoni raises her other hand, and crooks a single finger at Wilhiem. It's sort of like Sandy at the end of "Grease" saying 'tell me 'bout it, stud'.

Wilhiem lofts a single eyebrow at Sid. His outh parts in a wide grin, and he lets the melody pick up, his fingers running across the flute faster and faster.

Sidoni likes dat. Work them fingers, boy. She runs the tip of her tongue across her lower lip.

Shepard is now just staring at Sid. Almost horrified.

Wilhiem starts moving across the small opening - slowly - still playing, stepping one foot over the other. The stupid grin is still plastered over his face.

Sidoni 's face is turning red with the effort of simply standing there and trying not to say anything stupid.

Shepard resumes the actor's mask, and smiles as Wilhiem leaves his side. And again comes that Arcane glow.

Wilhiem sighs, exhales, and ceases the melody. He pockets the flute and chuckles, flicking his hair back like a model from a shampoo commercial. He walks up to Sidoni and holds out a hand.

Shepard shakes his head, still smiling, and the same downpour from before returns. The worgen, meanwhile, continues his song.

Sidoni takes that hand, and LEAPS into Wilhiem's embrace. She wraps herself all around that lanky gray whip of a man and buries her face against his throat, making loud smooching sounds. "Oh snookums... oh ya fuckin' handsome beast..."

Mairèad -stares- at Sidoni.

Shepard would have started again, but a snort happens instead.
Shepard begins to sing again. For real this time.
Shepard says: In the dead of night she came to him with darkness in her eyes, wearing a mourning gown, sweet words as her disguise. He took her in without a word for he saw his grave mistake, and vowed them both to silence deep beneath the lake.
Shepard says: Now if its real or just a dream, one mystery remains. For it is said on moonless nights, they may still haunt this place.

Wilhiem is an actor. Wilhiem is an actor of IRON WILL. Despite blushing furiously, he manages a purr, and wraps his arms around her, effectively carrying her /off/ and behind the tree. You know. In the bushes.

Shepard glances around, lamenting his solitude. But then, big voice, lots of passion.
Shepard says: And now to see your love set free, you will need the witch's cabin key. Find the lady of the light gone mad with the night, that's how you reshape destiny.

Mairèad turns her gaze back to Shepard, that derpy smile returning. She almost looks dazed.

Wilhiem fumbles with a small remote. A mechanical strider sneaks its way behind Shepard and he runs over there. Inconspicuously. Through the fountain.

Sidoni lets go of Wilhiem quickly. But she totally starts rattling the bushes while gasping and moaning. "Oh! Ya beast! Oh! Ya big naughty man!"

Teristha says: Shepard? Are you all right?

Shepard says: And now to see your love set free, you will need the witch's cabin key. Find the lady of the light still raving in the night, that's how you reshape destiny.

Tenoly crossed her arms, twitching. "Shep, no offense...but no matter how much that thing around your neck makes your voice different...you still suck at singing."

Shepard slides off the bench, casually strolling over to Mairead. He offers a hand -- there's a ring resting on his palm. "Will you be my lady of the light?"

Vandrin says: Tenolyshutthefuckupforfiveminutes.

Tenoly says: Good, now speak common this time Van.

Mairèad was distracted by turning that -glare- on Tenoly, so when she turns back and sees a ring, she lets out a yelp because the ring? She genuinely wasn't expecting that. "Holy shit! Where'd y'get booty, Shep!?"
Mairèad says: Oh! I mean yes.

Shepard grins, chuckling softly. Then he speaks into his signet.

Sidoni is still putting on a loud, flagrant show! Those bushes are rattling. Her voice is ringing.

Wilhiem 's strider emits a fury of fireworks! Happy day. Some of the sparks burn his hair and he bursts into curses.

Vandrin promptly runs up, flailing flower pedals.

Sidoni says: Oh! Yer fireworks! I told ya they was in yer pants baby!
Sidoni plants her forehead on the tree trunk. Her husband is going to kill her.

Mairèad grins up at Shepard and stands, removing her helm. She wraps her arms around him and whispers something to him.
To Shepard: "That. Was amazin'."
To Shepard: "Also, fuck Tenoly, yer amazin'."

Wilhiem rolls over a keg for a good measure.

Tenoly deadpanned, heartily disapproving. Shep acted like a fourty-something old man, and Mai was barely something other than a kid, this was weird...at least to her.

Sidoni doesn't realize Wilhiem has revealed he's no longer with her. She's still kicking the bushes to rattle them, and moaning like a hydra in heat.

Shepard smiles, wrapping an arm around Mairead. Then he whispers!
Shepard whispers: "I'm glad you think so, my dear."

All of the sounds behind the tree stop, except for a grateful, "LIGHT FUCKIN' BLESS."

Mairèad continues to stand there, whispering!
To Shepard: "...should I say somethin'?"
To Shepard: "Besides 'go die in a fire, Tenoly'?"

Sidoni ruffles Wilhiem's hair.

Shepard chuckles. "I think all you needed to say was 'yes'. ... Was this 'theatrical' enough?"

Tenoly thinks this sentimental moment needs Deathwing in Underbite form.

Mairèad says: That was amazin'ly theatrical. I can't believe y'pulled it off at such short notice!
Mairèad was obviously totally surprised by this whole thing. Or maybe just the ring.

Shepard deadpans. "Neither do I."

Tenoly says: Van...are we supposed to watch them for a reason? Cuz this staring is hurting my eye.

Mairèad says: And seriously, where'd y'get the booty?

Vandrin says: No. Stop watching if you're so souless.

Tenoly says: Meh...

Kialthos says: I forgot to clap.

Mairèad is -staring- at the ring. It's like instinct for her.

Tenoly says: Not my fault I aint a sap....I blame ya'll for drooling...

Shepard says: ... A friend. I had to- it doesn't matter.

Mairèad says: ...excuse me -one- second, Mine.
Mairèad disentangles herself from Shepard and marches over to Tenoly.

Tenoly seems to tower over Mai, considering she's a bit taller than she is.

Mairèad says: Look. I get that bein' a bitch is yer 'thing' and that's fine and whatevarrr, but fer -fuck's- sake, let people be -happy- if they've a mind to and if yer gunna ruin their happiness, keep yer opinions in yer Lightdamned -mouth-.

Kialthos says: BURN.

Mairèad doesn't really care how tall Tenoly is.
Mairèad says: That's all. Light protect.

Tenoly thinks height is important...that...damnit...what was the race from Invader Zim again?

Mairèad still doesn't care about Tenoly's height.

Tenoly smirked. "Tough words coming from a runt..."

Shepard blinks at you.
Shepard says: ... I think this will be happy marriage.

Mairèad says: ...let's go celebrate. Or...what are we supposed t'do now?

Vandrin says: So when do the storks come?

Mairèad says: ...storks?

Vandrin says: Yeah.

Mairèad says: What storks?

Vandrin says: With the baby.

Mairèad says: Why'd-- WHAT.
Mairèad says: No. No babbies.

Tenoly says: Now, this is entertaining.

Vandrin says: Oh, okay. Yeah, fuck children.
Vandrin nods.

Tenoly says: Van, what kind of face heel turn is -that-?

Mairèad grins at Vandrin. "Thanks, Vandrin. Fer errythin'."

Shepard looks at Wilhiem.
Shepard cackles maniacally at Wilhiem.

Mairèad says: You too, Emi.

Vandrin says: Fo sho.

Emirdelle says: No problem.

Teristha says: Wish I could have helped.

Tenoly eyed Kialthos. "We're chopped liver, I swear."

Shepard looks at Teristha.
Shepard says: You were- a valuable audience member.

Mairèad leans past Shepard to look at Wilhiem, "And you too... Wil, right?"

Wilhiem offers a salute and a nod.

Teristha says: Hmm... suppose that is comforting.

Mairèad says: Yer a very good actor.

Kialthos says: Mother of god, you could have been polite and at least stayed silent.

Mairèad smiles over at Kialthos, too. "Thank you, Kia."

Kialthos says: I didn't really do anything but okay.

Vandrin says: You're back.

Tenoly resists the urge to make a 'what's god' comment...lulz.

Mairèad says: Nah, y'jest did.

Kialthos gives Vandrin a side-noogie.

Mairèad reaches up to whisper to Shepard again.
To Shepard: "Seriously, let's go home and get naked."

Shepard says: I'm not sure if this is normal- but it's funny.

Tenoly says: It's never normal Shep...not here...but good on ya anyway I guess.

Shepard blinks at you.

Wilhiem pulls a disappearing act, the strider clanking loudly.

Shepard says: Right, I don't like it. Let's go.

Kialthos says: Warm winds, uh...
Kialthos says: The new Mr. And Mrs. Shepards.

Vandrin says: Chumba wumba. I don't like the look of it.

Tenoly leaned against the wooden barrier.

Mairèad chuckles and, with some effort, hefts herself up on Shepard's back because that's what she does.

Shepard says: That- huh. Thanks, Kia.

Tenoly says: Shepard's not his family name is it?
Tenoly glanced to SHep. "What's your last name again?"

Shepard says: Lovells. Or Garhelm. Depends on who you ask.

Tenoly says: I'm sort of asking you...so what's your answer?

Shepard says: Lovells, I guess.

Mairèad says: Anyway. Goin'. Let's.

Shepard says: Anyway. We're going now.

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.