Cinnamon & Shepard: July 8

Cinnamon glances over at Shepard. "...you seem familiar."

Shepard blinks at you.
Shepard says: I get that a lot.
Shepard leans forward, narrowing his eyes. "Let's see..."

Cinnamon adjusts her glasses and moves over a bench, leaning forward and sniffing the air near Shepard. "Books, ink. New parchment. Oiled wood, salt water, sweat."

Shepard smirks, raising a brow. "Worgen, then? Hm." He mirrors Cinnamon's actions, nose twitching as he begins to name a few scents: "There's... tea. Earthy aromas. Books, too. And- cinnamon." A snort clears his nostrils.

Cinnamon laughs quietly and holds her wrist up to her nose, inhaling deeply. "Cinnamon, yes. You... hmm. Mustn't have smelled like this in the wild, unless you were feral in a library, which is enviable but entirely doubtful."

Shepard says: If only I could -be- so lucky; I was confined to the outskirts of Gilneas, running through the woods. Dodging guard patrols instead of a Librarian's stern gaze.

Cinnamon says: There weren't enough libraries in those woods. If I'd had... mm, I don't know that I'd have needed a ritual, had I found myself in a library. I might've found myself back again with little trouble at all.
Cinnamon smiles sheepishly and adjusts the pencils in her hair, sending half of it tumbling down her shoulders.

Shepard says: Mm, a woman after my own heart. Not often you find another Gilnean with a modicum of civility and a taste for literature.

Cinnamon says: I've found that unfortunately true around here. Not very many come into the library, at least, and the ones that do usually are just lookin' for something tawdry.
Cinnamon says: ...granted, I don't mind the tawdry stuff myself, but.

Shepard says: A book is a book. Another world, a bounty of information... even the most mundane texts make me happier than a Goldshire whore during the evening.

Cinnamon laughs, pressing her hands against her cheeks to cover the flush that comes to them. "Well, I've not much experience with the latter, but you can hardly pass through my apartment from all the books I bring home with me."
Cinnamon says: Books and tea and cards.

Shepard says: I've no experience at all with whores- well. Not counting the ones that graze around Stormwind, taking a fancy to the fur-covered man sitting on a bench...
Shepard 's head hangs down, resting against his chest for a moment before he looks up. "But! Cards, you say?"

Cinnamon mutters something about charming paladins attracting whores as well, though she laughs at Shepard's response. "Not playin' cards, mind."

Shepard says: Oh, I never had an interest in those to begin with. What kind, though?

Cinnamon says: Fortune cards.

Shepard says: Fortune? Is that right... Light, I haven't had my fortune read in -years-. Not since- well. Gilneas.

Cinnamon says: Not many people have their fortunes read with frequency. Where in Gilneas did you say you were from?
Cinnamon begins to dig in her bookbag as she asks this, spilling several books on the ground along with several notebooks, before finally coming up with a well-loved pack of fortune cards.

Shepard says: Don't believe I ever did, but... Blackwald. Lived with my grandmother.

Cinnamon pauses in shuffling her deck and looks up. "...the Lovellses?"

Shepard says: That- would have been us, yes.
Shepard narrows an eye, leaning forward. "You knew us, then?"

Cinnamon nods eagerly, also leaning forward. "When you were wee, you had those sleepin' problems! Mum and Dad... we were practically neighbors! Sort of, I mean. As much as people can be neighbors in the Blackwald."
Cinnamon says: D'you remember the Diggorys?

Shepard cranes his head to the right, curiously sizing Cinnamon up. "I- do, yes..." His eyes begin to dart from side-to-side, a measure of familiarity slipping onto his face.

Cinnamon flushes slightly and turns to shuffling her cards. "I'm Cinna. The oldest."

Shepard gapes a little, his head slowly nodding. "... Light, is it really?" He points to himself. "Shepard- though you probably already knew that." He flicks his wrist, snorting.

Cinnamon looks up from the cards again, smiling. "Yeh, I did. I have to admit, I didn't expect to ever see you again, and wouldn't have recognized you if not for the smell... which sounds amazingly creepy, I'm sorry."

Shepard holds a hand up, chuckling. "Well. Under normal circumstances it would, but we're in Stormwind." His hand now rises, gesturing to the area surrounding them.

Shepard says: And remarkably, that was the sanest, most normal thing I've heard all day.

Cinnamon says: I'm happy to oblige. You must spend a lot of time around this Square, then?

Shepard says: I'm the resident gargoyle who dispenses snippets of common sense and logic. Not an easy job.

Cinnamon says: I could've used someone like that a few times, honestly. Assumin' Lio isn't always here to assist with your duties.

Shepard says: We alternate, really. I'm normally here more often, but his assistance is welcomed.

Cinnamon says: Ah, I'm afraid I have to take some responsibility for him being away lately. Or, well. I actually can't take responsibility, since he was the one who insisted on stayin'.

Shepard says: Hm? Is that right?

Cinnamon coughs awkwardly and nods, scratching the hair at the back of her head. "Yeh, found him by accident. Only I think he wants to keep it down, either in a gentlemanly fashion or because he's embarrassed."

Shepard 's lips tug into a grin, but he glances away. "Mm, hard to say with him."

Cinnamon says: Is he really as lecherous as he seems?

Shepard says: I haven't known him that long to truly say. I know he was married at one point, and has commented that he's 'enjoying' his status as a bachelor.
Shepard says: Well, not married- engaged.

Cinnamon says: He told me as much. He's... well. He is. I shall leave it at that.

Shepard says: He's a good man, underneath it all. But even I find it difficult to sift through that smoke-and-mirror show.

Cinnamon says: Mm, it's difficult to tell when he's bein' sincere and when he's playing around. But... anyway, would you like your fortune read?

Shepard smiles warmly, nodding. "I'd love that."

Cinnamon grins and finishes shuffling the cards. She beckons Shepard over to the bench, shifting to make room for both him and the deck, which she spreads before her.
Cinnamon says: Think of what you'd like to know and choose five cards.

Shepard slides off the planter and drifts to the bench, sitting down quietly. "Hmm..."

Shepard clicks his tongue, nodding as he follows instructions -- five cards are chosen.

Cinnamon takes the rest of the deck and lays it aside. She sets the five cards out in order. "The first card relates to your distant past," she explains and flips it over.
The card displays a man in a red cloak walking away from eight golden cups under a moonlit sky: the eight of cups.
Cinnamon says: According to this, you lost interest a ways back in something that was very important to you. It wasn't your choice... you -had- to abandon something you loved deeply and devoted yourself to. You sought the temporal in place of the eternal.

Shepard flicks an ear, nodding. He sits in silence, waiting for Cinnamon to continue.

Cinnamon holds her hand over the second card. "This represents your recent past." She flips the card over; it shows a wreathed man riding a horse, surrounded by celebratory staves. The six of wands.
Cinnamon says: ...but after that, things started lookin' good for you. Recently, too. You've resolved something important to you, and that makes you happy. It was a great struggle gettin' where you were, but you've realized some hopes and desires of yours.

Shepard shifts in place, his sense of wonder growing by the minute.

Cinnamon moves on to the third card. "This represents where you are now." She flips the card over to reveal two peasants huddling in the snow beneath a stained glass window: the five of Pentacles.
Cinnamon says: It looks like your business is goin' through a difficult time right now. You're facin' some hardship or another. Whatever it is, you're in need of comfort and need to only look right beside you to find it, only you don't always realize that.

Shepard is now awaiting the next card with bated breath, looking very much like an excited child.

Cinnamon chuckles at Shepard's reaction. "How am I doin' so far?" she asks, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

Shepard says: ...eerily accurate.

Cinnamon grins sheepishly and moves on to the next card. "Then I hope this is good news; this is your immediate future." She turns the card over, revealing five young men fighting with sticks. The five of staves.
Cinnamon says: ...huh. It looks like you'll be competing for...-something- in the immediate future. Not for anything important; if anything, it's for the fun of competition, and everyone involved will be good sports about it.
Cinnamon says: It will be stressful and filled with small disputes, but ultimately, it'll bring out the best in everyone involved.
Cinnamon says: Now, this last card is technically your "fortune"--it's the far-reachin' future.

Shepard has simply stopped breathing, eyes wide and urging Cinnamon to finish his reading.

Cinnamon turns over the final card to reveal nothing but eight rods soaring through the air above a peaceful landscape: the eight of staves.
Cinnamon says: Hmm. This says that in your future, you'll see a sudden release of raw energy. You'll be more powerful than you could've imagined, quick about decidin' things about love, life, and everything. And those decisions will bring you rapidly towards your goals.

Shepard exhales, looking relieved. "Ah, Light... some good news!" He throws his head back, cackling.

Cinnamon grins, gathering the cards and placing them with the rest of her deck. "A good reading, then?"

Shepard says: Accurate -and- uplifting. That was wonderful.

Senkha & Nialos: July 2

Senkha approaches with the courage of a brave thing that is brave. This all dissipates in seconds when she sees Nialos; her carefully-prepared speech dissolves into a weak, "Daddy?"

Nialos slowly looks up from his book -- and it's totally a book -- and glances to Senkha. His sagging features betray the obvious: he's tired. "Hey there, dear."

Senkha approaches, chewing on her lower lip, almost to the point of it being bloody. "Can we walk and talk?"

Nialos quietly shuts the book, tapping the spine against the ledge. "Sure," he answers, tossing the novel down onto the mailbox.

Senkha reaches out to take Nialos' hand. "Not far. Just... somewhere quieter."

Nialos stares at the hand. There's very little emotion as he takes it. Not even a smile. "Alright."

Senkha squeezes gently and leads the way.
Senkha sits, gesturing for Nialos to do the same. "I've... had an interesting week. And I've realized that being my father must be more than hell on you. Especially lately."

Nialos shrugs, his gaze wandering around the surrounding area. "Just another day, dear," he mutters. The usual warmth is gone from his voice.

Senkha shakes her head. "That's just it. Some... things happened. I've realized that everyone I love and have grown to love this past year, I've been killing. I've hurt you with everything I've done. And that knowledge kills me."

Nialos says: To be fair, I haven't been the best father- at all, actually.

Senkha says: But you have! Dad, you've been better to me than anyone has. Simply because I've made stupid decisions doesn't make you a bad father! If anything, it means you were... unlucky. You chose a girl for a daughter who was already damaged beyond repair.
Senkha says: You're the only reason I feel I'm worth anything. You care enough to tell me to -stop- when I'm doing something stupid and to hurt me for my own good, not because you're a sadist or interested in indulging my masochism.

Nialos lowers his head. "Senkha, a father should be capable of helping his daughter beyond simple pep talks. A father should be capable of saving his child." The Lichfire eye dims, almost as if it symbolize how weak he feels. "I couldn't do that with William, and..."
Nialos says: I haven't been able to as much I should have for you.

Senkha gets down off of her bench and kneels in front of Nialos. She looks like she's pleading with him. How pathetic. "You -have- saved me, Dad. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want to fall. I won't let myself leave grace so far behind that you have to do to me what you did to William. I'm -not him-."

Nialos regards Senkha with a heavy dose of uncertainty. "...I'm sorry," he whispers. "But I don't know if I can believe that."

Senkha closes her eyes; the amount of pain showing on her face is immeasurable. Her hands are shaking, and it takes her a while to gather her thoughts. "You once told me something. You told me that parenthood is pain. That it's fighting. That it doesn't stop."
Senkha says: But you said, too, that you don't. Give. Up.
Senkha says: Daddy, please... -please- don't g-give up on me.

Nialos hides his face away, burying it deep within his palms. The elderly Knight shudders, shoulders sagging. "I'm- tired, Senkha. I'm just... tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing everything. -Everyone-." His arms drop down to his sides.
Nialos says: ...I'm tired of being the last one standing.

Senkha moves so that she's sitting on the bench and, without asking if this is at all okay, wraps her arms around Nialos' shoulders, pulling him close. She's crying, but it's quiet and still. "You don't have to carry that load alone. Please... I want to help you. I've wanted to help you carry all these burdens for so long, but you never said a word. You only ran. Daddy, please... stop running. Please st-stay. Please."

Nialos let's his head fall to rest on Senkha; whatever strength was left in him has completely vanished. "...I just want it to end, Senkha. I want my heart back - I want my strength back." He bites back a sob. "I want my Alma back. She'd- she'd know... she'd tell me how to get through this..."

Senkha holds Nialos tightly against her. Her hands are still shaking. "We'll find her. I will find her for you. It's the least I can do for you, Dad. I... we'll find her. We will. You'll have her again."

Nialos inhales -- certainly out of habit -- before he actively shivers against Senkha. "I want to believe it... I really do."

Senkha continues to hold onto her father as if she's afraid he'll fall away if she lets go. She rests her cheek against his head. "But after so many heartbreaks, you can't help but think that things will never change," she says quietly.


Senkha closes her eyes and clenches her jaw a moment before asking, "What do you -want- to do?"

Nialos admits quietly: "I'm... I. Want to die."

Senkha winces at this. Barely audibly, she admits, "Me too," though she cleverly attempts to cover this up by asking, even more painfully, "Do you think it's time? Do you think it's time for you to rest?"

Nialos says: It has been my time for so very, very long, Senkha. But I'm still here.

Senkha 's eyes remain closed, though she presses a kiss to Nialos' head. "If that's what you want..." She pauses and swallows a sob, trying to keep this to pretty tears and a quiet voice. "If that's what you want, then I... could-help-you." The last words are so mechanical that she may as well be a robot. There's no less pain in them for their mechanical nature.

Nialos slowly shakes his head, and for the whatever reason, the runes along his blade pulsate. "It's been my time, Senkha, but." He stares her dead in the eyes. "You wouldn't do it. And I wouldn't want you to."

Senkha can't help but let out a shaky breath of relief because she -really- did not want to do that. "Then please... -please-. I don't want you to suffer like this. Tell me what I can do. Let me help you somehow."

Nialos drops his head back against Senkha, sighing. "Just- please." The runeblade hums for a split-second, runes flashing to life. Then everything grows dull and quiet. "... Stop being an idiot. Please."

Senkha laughs, in spite of herself, and it comes out all messy and gross. "They say, don't they, that admitting you have a problem is the first step? I've been doing a lot of that this week." After a beat, she adds, "I am so sorry, Dad. For everything, for the hell I've been putting you through, for not saying this earlier. I could never hope that you'd be able to forgive me."

Nialos 's lips tug into a smile. It's a start. "I've a perfect track record when it comes to forgiveness, dear."

Senkha hugs Nialos tightly again, letting out a quiet sob, though she's laughing too. Emotions, how do they fucking work. "I love you, Daddy. Please... please don't want to die. Let me bear some of the load, too. Let Oliver. You don't have to carry the world on your shoulders alone. And... besides, what happens when we find Alma and you haven't waited for her?"

Nialos says: To be completely honest.
Nialos says: I hadn't thought that through.
Nialos manages a weak laugh. "Let Shepard take the helm, now. He's old enough - hell, he's all but becoming me."

Senkha says: ...no wonder he looked so drawn today. I heard a rumor, by the way, passing through the square earlier, that he's getting himself married. But... that's beside the point.
Senkha says: The point is that if you -didn't- wait for Alma, then I would, in fact, be an idiot and -master- necromancy, just so I could bring you back and let her slap you.
Senkha says: For the record.

Nialos deadpans. "... I'm pretty sure my corpse wouldn't like that. Nor me, for that matter. I'd punch you in the gut."

Senkha also deadpans. "In those circumstances and to allow Alma that chance, it'd be worth it."
Senkha says: Besides, I probably wouldn't be very good at it, so you'd likely come back as a mindless, albeit punchable, ghoul.

Nialos says: ...
Nialos says: Let's stop talking about necromancy.

Senkha says: Yeah that's a good idea.
Senkha says: ...you should know, though, before we do--I've no intention of following that course of study. All I've done is stop Oliver's body when he's going to hurt someone and mended it once. That's it. But that's all I will say about it.

Nialos grunts. "Right."

Senkha says: So. Aside from dying. What would you like to do?

Nialos says: ... Be alive?
Nialos says: Because it's going to be awfully hard to explain to my living wife why her husband is an undead killing machine.

Senkha says: "The Scourge sucks. But I'm here for ya, babe!"?
Senkha gives a thumbs-up?

Nialos says: ... She's slap me for the 'babe' comment.

Senkha says: What did you call her?

Nialos says: Love, dear, Alma, Decker on rare occasions...

Senkha says: ...Decker?

Nialos taps his patch. "Decker."

Senkha grins, wrapping her arms around Nialos' shoulders again. "So. The Scourge sucks, but I'm here for ya, Decker."

Nialos chuckles, forcing a smile. "I'd just want it to be perfect. And that'll take a miracle."

Senkha shrugs, shaking her head. "If it was me and Oliver, I wouldn't care about it being perfect. I'd just be happy to see him again. And I think Alma will be the same way."

Nialos says: ... I can hope, I guess.

Senkha says: When we find her, I'll make sure you know ahead of time so you can prepare something.

Nialos says: Mm. If you say so...

Senkha reaches down to squeeze Nialos' hand. "I just have a feeling that it'll happen really soon. And I will figure out a way to make it perfect for you."

Nialos says: A feeling, huh?
Nialos snorts. "What, got a contact with some higher being or something?"

Senkha chuckles. "Didn't you know? I have a ~sixth sense~ about this kind of thing. It's why I make a very good rogue."
Senkha says: Not a good mender. But a good rogue.

Nialos says: Well. At least one of my kids should be non-magical- to a degree.
Nialos says: Fuck magic.

Senkha says: Seriously. Fuck magic.
Senkha adds, after a beat, "...and the mind stuff isn't magic. For the record."

Nialos says: Eh, like I'd know... it's all mumbo-jumbo to me.
Nialos sighs. "The irony that I'm running on -- and use -- magic."

Senkha says: Life is full of ironies like that.

Nialos says: ... Let's go sit by the fountain. On Gilneas.
Nialos says: I kinda miss that thing.

Senkha says: Let's.
Senkha says: I do too. I've not been there in a long time.
Senkha says: ...besides tonight.

Nialos says: Well. Lead the way, dear. Your father needs a guide tonight.

Senkha rises and takes Nialos' arm. She holds onto him tightly and repeats, in a whisper, "I love you, Daddy."

Nialos hefts himself, smiling softly. "... I love you, too. My darling daughter."

Mairèad & Shepard: July 1 (part II)

Mairèad says: ...Shep, I gotta say. I'm kinda disappointed in that story.

Shepard says: ... What? Why?

Mairèad is smiling like a retard still, so obviously she's not -that- disappointed. "Cause we ent gunna go hide under th'lake or anythin' and you'd better not stop singin'."
Mairèad says: But...I always hoped that story would end this way.

Shepard huffs, shaking his head. "If I had more time..." he says, grinning.

Mairèad says: Well. Before you send that one to th'printers, you should change the end. That'd be wicked. But... well, I dunno. Fer print, I guess th'sadder endin' works.
Mairèad says: Also, holy shit, this -booty-.
Mairèad is not going to stop talking about the booty. She might bone the booty and not Shep.

Shepard says: ...it's literally magical, too. Transformed something ordinary into- well. That. So you're carrying a chunk of me around at all times.

Mairèad says: ...this ent a soulstone, is it?

Shepard says: Nnnno.

Mairèad shifts, examining the ring. It sparkles. It is pretty. And piraterdins like sparkly, pretty things. "Oh good. What is it? I nevarrr seen anythin' like it."

Shepard says: Well, mages can summon gems and such, and it's a fairly easy spell. I can manage it even without most of my abilities.

Mairèad grins and hugs Shepard warmly. "That whole thin' was amazin'. As soon as I saw th'rain, I knew. And... well, if it hadn't been fer Tenoly, I think I'd'a cried."

Shepard says: ... I think I 'grew' on Tenoly. In the wrong way.

Mairèad says: ...ew.
Mairèad says: That... ew. Looks like we decided this jest th'right time.

Shepard says: ... Hey Mair? Could we just go somewhere nice and... talk?
Shepard says: After today, I think- I think I need it.

Mairèad nods and rests her head on Shepard's shoulder. "Anythin' you want, love."

Shepard says: Right then. Back around we go.

Mairèad says: Wanna spend th'night on the boat?

Shepard says: Sounds like a good idea.

Mairèad grins, swinging her feet slightly. "Actually, we could spend a couple days. I can jest put her out t'sea enough that we ent near th'mainland."
Mairèad says: Set down the anchor.
Mairèad says: Y'know. That.

Shepard says: I don't know... lot of people need me here to insult them, and poke holes in their plans with logic.

Mairèad says: ...you've had a longer day than y'let on, haven't you?

Shepard says: Days, really.

Mairèad kisses Shepard's temple. "I'm sorreh, Mine. I'm sorreh I contributed."

Shepard shrugs. "That- really wasn't so bad."

Mairèad says: Well, mebbe start at th'beginnin'.
Mairèad says: And when y'get to the end, stop.

Shepard says: Well.
Shepard says: I killed a worgen on the Cathedral's steps.
Shepard says: Lopped its head off.

Mairèad 's cheerful expression flattens immediately. "What."

Shepard says: It was attacking someone, and... well.

Mairèad settles down off of Shepard's back, resting on the captain's bed. Because she's like that. "Oh Light, Shep. I wish you'd said somethin'."

Shepard grunts, settling down beside Mairead. "Well, you had a lot on your mind -- Lius, Stehl, paladinhood -- and I didn't want to contribute."

Mairèad says: Nah, that wouldn't've contributed. It would've kept me mind off that shit. Kept it on you, which is th'best place fer it.

Shepard says: It wasn't- wasn't too bad, really. He was a worgen. Possibly feral, even.
Shepard nods. "I- I did the right thing."

Mairèad says: You did. You were savin' people's lives. And he was beyond help. You probably put him outta his misery.

Shepard says: What's weird is, I always thought that now I'd feel something -- anything -- if I killed one of my people. But. There was nothing.
Shepard says: ... Well, I was irritated, but I don't think that counts.

Mairèad says: Did you know him?

Shepard says: No. Just another face in the crowd.

Mairèad says: That's probably why. It wasn't rilly that it was one 'a yer people... it was a dangerous person what needed t'be stopped. I mean, would you've felt anythin' if it was a human?

Shepard says: ... Hungry? Ah, that's terrible... but no.
Shepard flops onto his back, sighing. "Then earlier in the day... a Warlock was staging a 'silent' protest."

Mairèad snickers and squeezes Shepard's hand. "Then that's jest it. It's not about yer people or me people or anythin'."

Shepard says: Well, my people are morons- and I think the Shattering shattered their heterosexuality.

Mairèad says: Not yers, at least.

Shepard says: Mmm... so. Are you really going to be a Lovells?

Mairèad takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, eyes going wide. "Are you gunna go by Lovells or Grrrrhelm?" she asks. She's totally serious about the Grrrr part, too.

Shepard lifts a brow. "'Grrrrhelm', hm? I'm tempted to take that for the irony. But... I've been a Lovells all my life, so I'll go with that."

Mairèad says: Then yahar. I wanna be a Lovells. Mairèad Isolde Lisa Fallon-Lovells.

Shepard says: Aha, decided to go that route, hm?
Shepard says: ... What do you think your mother will say?

Mairèad says: I still got time to decide, right? Not like we're gettin' married tomorrow. We need t'wait fer a naval battle.
Mairèad says: She is gunna shit a brick. So will Bryn, fer that matter.

Shepard says: ... Wait, naval battle? Oh, that's right...

Mairèad says: Mmhm.
Mairèad says: Preferably in th'rain fer luck.

Shepard says: I'm still not sure that's how weddings are actually done... at least, not on land.

Mairèad says: How are weddin's done on land?

Shepard says: If I remember it right, my grandmother described it as...
Shepard speaks as if he's reading off a cue card. "Pleasant, if loud. There were decorations, food, drinks and hundreds of people. I wore a white dress, while your grandfather was dressed in the most dashing of suits."
Shepard coughs.

Mairèad suddenly looks horrified. "I ent gotta wear a dress -again- do I?!"

Shepard says: I- don't think- well. If you -really- don't want to, why should you?

Mairèad says: Plus ent white dresses fer virgins?

Shepard says: Well. I'm not sure.
Shepard says: I just thought you- wore dresses. Or something.

Mairèad says: ...how about dress armor?

Shepard says: ...do I have to wear a suit?

Mairèad says: I think we can wear whatever th'fuckin' hell we wanna wear.

Shepard says: I think. That sounds like a brilliant idea.
Shepard says: And- hm. Maybe I can arrange for, like... a fight to break out.

Mairèad giggles. "We're gunna hafta have it in the Cathedral, ent we? And let errybody what wants t'come show up."

Shepard says: Oh. Oh Light. That'd just be-
Shepard shudders. "Do you honestly want someone like -Tenoly- showing up?"

Mairèad says: That's why we get security. Kialthos'd be so happy.

Shepard says: Nngh. But then there'd be a scene, and... well. I suppose we'll think of something.
Shepard says: Not like this all has to happen right away. ... Right?

Mairèad says: Oh shit no. I still think we should wait fer a naval battle.

Shepard says: And tell me, my dear, what a naval battle is like.

Mairèad says: Well. First thin' what happens, th'ships come alongside each other. This is if one hasn't blow th'other to smithereens while chasin'. They open cannon fire and th'goal's to sink the other ship.
Mairèad says: When yer close enough, half th'people from each ship swing over to the other one and stab and shoot the evarrrlivin' fuck outta the crew.
Mairèad says: It ends when a captain parleys.

Shepard says: ... And this is how a wedding for you goes.

Mairèad says: Noo, the weddin' takes place in th'middle of all that. I seen me mam do it dozens 'a times.
Mairèad says: Y'gotta keep fightin' while it happens or it ent bindin'.

Shepard says: That sounds- what if one of us died? Somehow.

Mairèad says: That's why y'get married.

Shepard says: But. Then you got married, and I'm dead.
Shepard says: That seems depressing.

Mairèad says: Or you get married and I'm dead. So... mebbe the Cathedral's best.

Shepard says: Or maybe... hm. I'll have to collaborate with Wilhiem. -We'll- have to collaborate with him.
Shepard says: And Vandrin. He helped come up with tonight's idea.

Mairèad says: Vandrin is highly clevarrr. I hope he realizes that. And Wil seems pretty wicked, too.

Shepard says: ... I liked my original idea better, though.

Mairèad says: What was yer original idea?

Shepard says: I tried getting Wil and Vandrin to act as a couple.

Mairèad blinks several times and then bursts out laughing. "That woulda been a sight! I'll betcha Tenoly woulda shit even more bricks."

Shepard says: And Emi...
Shepard lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.
Shepard says: Probably would have been better with the original idea, too...

Mairèad says: Poor Emi. Must've been 'cause it was Vandrin that she was jest standin' there like a fish.

Shepard says: I don't know. But I suppose Sid saved the show.

Mairèad says: Nngh. I hate her, but she is a very good actress.

Shepard snorts. "... I noticed Bryn was chatting with you. How is she?"

Mairèad's happy expression fades again. "Drunk and actin' like Lius. So... shitty."

Shepard says: Do you think you should talk to her, or...?

Mairèad says: I tried. She... well, she started fightin' with some random Night Elf. Then she said she'd try harder tomorrow.

Shepard says: And by harder, she means... what? Drinking, fighting and screwing at the same time?

Mairèad says: I got no idea. I told her to either drink or not drink, not try one or th'other.

Shepard says: Maybe you should check in on her tomorrow, then. Make sure she's doing alright.

Mairèad says: That's what I was gunna do. I'm jest glad she ent run across Stehl.

Shepard says: ... I'm sure Stehl has plenty of questions for her, yes.

Mairèad says: Why questions?

Shepard says: Remember? Stehl menti--
Shepard freezes, then shakes his head. "Nothing."

Mairèad says: ...Shep, what'd Stehl mention?

Shepard says: ... He- he mentioned that Lius had more than one request.

Mairèad says: What'd Lius request?

Shepard looks away, obviously trying to hide the biggest frown ever. "... I'm not- I'm not sure I should tell you. It's... what made Stehl so angry yesterday."

Mairèad swallows hard. "It ent somethin' I did, is it?"

Shepard says: -No-. No.

Mairèad says: Then what?

Shepard says: I just don't- Mair. I don't think it'd make your life any easier to know.

Mairèad sighs and then just turns and relaxes against Shepard. "Tell me in th'mornin'?" she asks quietly.

Shepard says: ... Maybe. We'll see.

Mairèad laughs quietly and snuggles close, going into that sleepy-girl-is-cute mode. "Mmmkay. Hey, I love you."

Shepard snakes an arm around the sleepy cute girl, smiling. "Love you too, my dear."

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.

Mairèad & Shepard: July 1 (part I)

Mairèad says: Alright, look. You obviously ent fine. What's wrong, Mine?

Shepard sighs heavily. "I just- don't like father talk. At all. That's it."

Mairèad 's faceplate falls down. She pushes it back up. " 'Cause 'a... that thin' with yer blood y'told me about?"

Shepard says: Well. That, and my own was... a disappointment.
Shepard huffs. "And then people telling me that because I'm nice, I'll be a good father. I don't know -how- to be father."

Mairèad says: I don't think most blokes what're fathers know how when they first start. I think 'cause yer so worried, you'd probably be a good dad, but... well, I don't want kids evarrr.

Shepard nods excitedly. "Good! Good. Good..."

Mairèad says: ...I am rilly glad y'said that.

Shepard says: ...I'd just be a disappointment, too. This is good.

Mairèad shrugs. "I just... don't like kids. Can't picture meself evarrr havin' 'em, y'know?"

Shepard says: I'm fairly sure neither of us can. So, to Stormwind I quietly say...
Shepard clears his throat. "Fuck y'all, we don't need a kid." He smiles.
Shepard says: I wonder if there's a standard way of saying that... and if I got it right.

Mairèad snickers. "Y'sounded like Mr. MacGlynn. And let errybody else have kids. We don't need to."

Shepard hops up and down, nodding. "Exactly! Don't need a child. None at all."

Mairèad laughs at her amazing, bouncing worgen. "You are rilly excited about this lack 'a kids thin', ent you?"

Shepard says: Oh, Mair, it's -fantastic-. Brilliant. Wonderful. I feel...
Shepard stops his hopping, chuckling. "Lighter."

Mairèad says: I can tell. Y'look like yer about to bounce into orbit or somethin'.

Shepard says: Oh, but you'd be coming along for the ride.

Mairèad says: ...that. Is terrifyin'. I like the ground.

Shepard says: Hey, you said you'd come with me -anywhere-. That includes high above the ground.

Mairèad says: Onleh if y'promise you won't let me fall.

Shepard says: I thought we went over this? I wouldn't let you fall. Ever.
Shepard taps his chin, then holds out a finger. "Well, that's not entirely true."

Mairèad says: ...when would y'let me fall?

Shepard says: Right into a body of water. Or a bed.
Shepard says: Preferably in reverse.

Mairèad snickers. "What, y'don't want me in yer bed when I'm all wet?"

Shepard says: Well, that's an alluring image... to...
Shepard trails off, eyes wandering over Mairead. "-To think about, but then my bed. It'd be soaked."

Mairèad says: We could change th'sheets.
Mairèad says: Or...well, yer rich. You could hire someone to change th'sheets fer you.

Shepard says: Well, I suppose that's true... oh, but then people would have to actually -go in- to my house. That's unnerving.

Mairèad says: What's th'purpose 'a havin' a big house like that if y'ent gunna let people in?

Shepard says: Well, I originally was only going to let only -one- person in. You made me- 'revise', that plan.
Shepard says: It's not even my house. Not to me, anyway.

Mairèad says: It's Alma's.

Shepard nods. "But... I suppose she'd want me to live there, too. 'Your money, your house'. That's what she'd tell me."
Shepard says: ... Oh! I forgot. Stehl isn't mad at you.

Mairèad says: He ent?

Shepard says: Well, he's mad, but. Not at -you- specifically.

Mairèad says: What's he mad at?

Shepard says: Lius, mostly. It's like I said, he's grieving. In his own way.

Mairèad nods. "You were right. I'm sorreh I was such a shit about it last night. Was kinda like bein' slapped, y'know? Stehl's... he's errythin' I always thought a palerdin should be, and the idea 'a disappointin' him is..." She just trails off.

Shepard shakes his head. "No, no. Don't worry about it, my dear. Stehl has just been- I don't know how to put this."

Mairèad says: Yer good with words, and even when y'ent, I always understand you.

Shepard says: It's like he became a walking embodiment of the Light's fiery vengence.

Mairèad says: Describe it to me.

Shepard gestures to the pauldrons. "Those? They won't stop burning. Even -he- can't stop it. And they've just- expanded. He can't contain it."

Mairèad says: ...is he gunna die?

Shepard says: I don't think so. He seems fine, for the most part.

Mairèad says: But he can't live normal no more.

Shepard says: ...was he ever normal?
Shepard says: If anything, I think him becoming -that- is normal; it's like he ascended, or something. Opened himself unwittingly to the Light.
Shepard says: ... And now he's like a walking lantern.

Mairèad nods slowly, considering this. "...I guess that's good. Fer him, at least. That's... I mean, unless y'got family or love, that's all any of us can hope fer."

Shepard says: Actually, I can see where there might be some problems...
Shepard says: Oliver told me he's married.

Mairèad says: Oh. Well. Tha-- oh -wait-. He's married to a deader, ent he?

Shepard nods.

Mairèad says: ...that's awkward.

Shepard says: Mm. But, back to the original point, he isn't really mad at you.

Mairèad says: I'm glad t'know that. I wish I could talk to him anyway... if he's gunna go away and be a beacon 'a the Light's vengeance, I wanna at least say good-bye.

Shepard says: Well, I wouldn't say he's leaving for good. Not yet, anyway. He seems intent on lounging about Stormwind.

Mairèad says: That can't last long, not with so many deaders around, not with how he's probably got a worse temper now than you and me combined.

Shepard says: Mm. Which reminds me, have you noticed any other changes as of late?

Mairèad says: I hear shit better and smell shit better. And... y'know, I don't think I coulda broke someone's legs before.

Shepard says: So increased strength and senses, but hairtrigger temper and 'heat' flashes... seems you've gotten a pretty good deal. So far, anyway.

Mairèad says: And I like raw meat. What bad shit could I've gotten?

Shepard says: Well. Could have gone mad.

Mairèad waggles her eyebrows at Shepard. "How d'you know I haven't?"

Shepard says: Because you aren't walking around nude, or biting hapless civilians.
Shepard pauses. "Just me."

Mairèad says: ...y'ent a hapless citizen. Yer mine.

Shepard says: Really? Because I think half of Stormwind would like to contest that.

Mairèad says: What?

Shepard says: It's the weirdest thing. Ever since you and I... well, you know. Anyway, women -- and men -- have been getting 'nicer'.

Mairèad 's heckles rise. What are heckles? Who knows? But they're rising. She growls softly. "Whaddya mean 'nicer'?"

Shepard narrows an eye. "And that one bloke? Mahlar. He kissed me last night." The worgen grimaces.
Shepard says: So. That 'kind' of nice.

Mairèad says: -KISSED- you!? Why the -fuck- would he do that!?

Shepard flattens his ears. "He did it as 'thanks', I think. Called me handsome, and- well."
Shepard shrugs. Who knows?

Mairèad growls even more fiercely, like the not!worgen she is. "That -fucker-. That ent okay. What the hell, what's a girl gotta do to make sure errybody knows her man's taken these days?"

Shepard kneels down just a bit, getting on eye level with Mairead. "Come on now. Calm down, Mair. Like I said, he just- did it. Out of thanks for a situation."
Shepard says: I'm sure -- and hoping -- nothing was meant by it. Really.

Mairèad says: Still, people oughta know when they're hittin' on someone what's taken. They oughta know better.

Shepard says: It's Stormwind, Mair. If people knew better, there wouldn't be insanity in the streets.

Mairèad still growls softly but she looks slightly less like she's about to go rip someone's head off. "Well still. Almost wanna marry you -jest- to tell errybody else to bugger off."

Shepard blinks, then leans in close. Like. Really close. "Say that again?"

Mairèad says: I said I almost wanna marry you -jest- to tell errybody else to bugger off.

Shepard says: That. Is a brilliant idea.

Mairèad says: ...what.

Shepard taps one of his ring fingers, nodding. "A fake marriage."

Mairèad says: ...why not a rill marriage? I don't wanna -lie- to people.

Shepard blinks, leaning back. "I- wha- ... Do you want to marry me?"

Mairèad says: --well, I mean. I... I mean. ...I dunno! What's that gunna change, besides me name?
Mairèad says: Is it -gunna- make thin's different? 'Cause I kinda like thin's th'way they are.

Shepard looks away, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, honestly... I doubt things would change. You'd just be my wife." He shrugs, focus panning back to Mairead. "But I- well. I hadn't really -planned- on aski--"
Shepard says: Well. Not for a few years, anyway.

Mairèad says: Y'didn't plan on askin' at all, did you?

Shepard says: -No-. I did. Honest!

Mairèad grins at Shepard. "Rilly?"

Shepard blinks. "I- ahh- well." The ground looks wonderful. "I was planning to, yeah- in a few years. I'd want to be- why am I telling you this."

Mairèad says: Want t'be what?

Shepard 's brows bunch together. "...better?" he admits, meek as can be.

Mairèad is grinning like an idiot and wraps her arms around Shepard's waist, pulling herself close. "Shep, yer amazin' jest th'way you are. I've been in love with you fer a while now... was jest waitin' fer you to realize it. Y'don't need to be better fer me."

Shepard 's mouth hangs open, eyes twitching. "...woo," he manages weakly. With a deep breath, he smiles. "Well. That's a weight off my shoulders, then."

Mairèad laughs softly, touching Shepard's cheek. "Y'didn't know that already? I wouldn't've chased after you ferevarrr if I didn't feel that way."

Shepard says: ...but weren't you at a point where you were close to giving up?
Shepard says: I mean, well. ... It sounded like it.

Mairèad says: Sorta. I think it was mostly 'cause I hadn't talked t'you in ferevarrr at that point. With you bein' that close again... well. I was jest glad Lio didn't want anythin' serious 'cause I knew... Light, even y'weren't nearby, I couldn't stop thinkin' 'a you.
Mairèad says: I jest didn't wanna get hurt again.

Shepard says: Well. I'm glad I swooped in, then. Completely contradicts that old phrase 'swooping is bad', though.

Mairèad laughs weakly and rests her head against Shepard's chest. "I don't think we evarrr coulda been friends. Not -jest- friends."

Shepard nods, then glances down. "...I'm confused, am I supposed to be asking you to marry me now?"

Mairèad says: ...hmm. Y'know. Since we're mostly doin' this fer errybody in th'Square, if yer gunna ask soonish, may's well do it there.
Mairèad says: Onleh, y'gotta make it all theatrical-like.
Mairèad says: Make errybody swoon.

Shepard says: I... see.
Shepard says: Right. Wait around in the square, and... I need to get some things.

Mairèad says: ...alright.
Mairèad says: Hey, Shep?

Shepard says: ...yes?

Mairèad reaches up to kiss the worgen gently. "I love you."

Shepard giggles, smiling like a derp. "I love you, too."
Shepard says: Now go. Go!

You salute Shepard with respect.

Senkha & Oliver: June 27

Senkha has spent the better part of the night and day staring at the bars, save for when she wrote in her journal that morning. She hasn't eaten anything, nor has she slept all night, but she doesn't seem to care much. She just... -stares-.

Oliver has been doing much the same. His lit up his pipe a few times, the smell still lingering in the cell. His blade is propped against the wall opposite them, providing something of a light source. Every so often he looks at his wife, but he can't think of a thing to say.

"How did he escape?" Senkha asks suddenly, her voice hoarse and cracking.

Oliver looks away from the blade at the sudden sound of her voice. "Who."

Senkha glances around the cell, eyes finally resting on the manacles against the far wall. "Patrick Morgan. You can't stop thinking about this being his cell. Even if you don't mean to."

Oliver's gaze follows hers and he grunts. "Furthest cell. Didn' come here fer that." It's not really an answer to her question and he knows that, so he continues, "Fought out. Jumped."

"And he didn't die?" Senkha seems surprised that it's something so simple.

"You tell me."

Senkha hums thoughtfully and returns her gaze to the bars. She tries to close herself off even more, but the thing about closing off this much is that things slip through the cracks. Things like her thought of jumping.

Oliver isn't right up beside her, but he's close enough to reach out his arms and pull her over to him. His arms squeeze around her, but he doesn't say anything. That anger is still there.

It's that anger that makes it more vivid. Senkha tries to keep it hidden, but images flicker at his mind: the wind on her face, the ground drawing closer, a cracking sound.

Oliver's arms tighten around her, perhaps too tightly. "Stop," he says, a crack almost coming to his voice. Though he doesn't need sleep, he sounds tired. Possibly even afraid.

Senkha stops, less because he's asked her to and more because she needs air. She coughs a little bit, trying to shift in his arms, but doesn't say anything.

Oliver notices the shifting and lets her go, one arm falling to his side and the other lamely into her lap. "Please stop," he repeats, even though she has.

Senkha looks down at Oliver's hand in her lap and manages a weak, "I'm sorry." There's no telling what she's apologizing for; probably everything.

Oliver nods, letting his head rest back against the wall after. "Ah believe that."

Senkha seems to have no more words for that. She's trying to keep the images at bay, but they keep flickering past. After a while, she says (in a very thick voice), "Everything I've done for the past year or so has hurt the people I love."

"So y'think about hurtin' us th' hardest way y'can."

"Like you wouldn't all be better off without me!" It's a broken promise. Senkha knows it, somewhere, but this is the rawness of the wounds on her back and her heart screaming. "One small hurt compared to a lifetime."

Oliver scowls, lifting his head again and forcing her to look at him. "-You are not leavin' me-."

This forcefulness takes Senkha by surprise; whatever else goes on between them, she's not used to Oliver being like -this- because it's usually her desperation that shows. "...even if you wouldn't hurt anymore," she says quietly.

Oliver realizes how he's acting and lets her go. He rests back against the wall again, the scowl not leaving his face. "Ah wouldn't let you go."

Senkha exhales slowly as Oliver lets her go and brings a shaking hand to touch the spot on her arm where he'd gripped. "Why -don't- you hate me?" she asks after a long pause.

"D'you want me to? Would that make y'feel better, if instead 'a fergivin' you Ah wanted ta never see y'gain?"

Senkha cringes at these words and slowly shakes her head. "It's what I deserve, though. It's no less than what I deserve."

"Yer talkin' to th' wrong person 'bout not gittin' whut y'deserve."

"...you didn't answer my question, anyway." Senkha runs her thumb subconsciously over the flat of her wedding band, almost marvelling that it's still there.

"That's b'cause Ah dunno th' answer," Oliver sighs, sitting up again momentarily to reach out for his blade. The runelight comes with it, and he can see her better. "Jus' th' way it is."

It's far from comforting, and the same is probably true of the parade of words that begin to leave Senkha's mouth. "I'm sorry I thought about killing myself. I'm sorry I keep committing necromancy. I'm sorry I can't stand to see Dizzy any longer..."

Oliver rests the blade half across his lap, his hand briefly running over its surface before returning to his side. "Ah know y'are. Why y'think Ah don't mention it?"

"...I'm sorry that I tried to die in Silithus. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I'm sorry that I have a hard time trusting you. I'm sorry I tortured you. I'm sorry I whip myself. I'm sorry I manipulate you into do horrible things. I'm sorry that I bring out the worst in you. I'm sorry that I'm not the woman you d-deserve..." Senkha finally finishes her tirade with a choked half-sob.

Oliver just sits against the wall and listens. He's aware of all these things, he knows she did them, but he's never heard them presented so bluntly. And yet, all he says is, "... Ain't whut Ah meant 'bout not gettin' whut Ah deserve."

Senkha exhales, seeming somewhat cleansed by having blurted all of these things out to Oliver. "What did you mean?" she asks after a moment of trying to regain some calmness.

Oliver gives her a flat look that almost says, 'What do you think'. He answers anyway, though, lifting his arm again- gesturing to the dungeon and the ziggurat containing it. "Ev'rythin', Senkha. Ev'rythin' except somethin' Ah kin depend on always bein' there." His hand lowers and he nudges her shoulder with it.

"...something you can always depend on being there," Senkha repeats slowly, looking Oliver over with no small amount of worry, as if he's just saying these things and then will Blightreavertrollfase and run away.

Oliver gives a hint of a smile. " 'Least Ah thought so." He reaches out again for her, pulling her against him in a more gentle, less desperate manner. "Y'did that, it'd never stop hurtin' me."

Senkha swallows hard and takes a deep, steadying breath, only it sounds more like "Whuhuhuhuhhh" than anything actually steady. "Likewise," she murmurs after a beat, resting her head against Oliver's chest.

Oliver rests his hand on her head, holding it there against his chest. Her blood still stains his tabard, now visible to her in the runelight. There's a lot of it. After a while, he admits, "Ah ain't sure ha' Ah'm gunna get you outta here in one piece."

Senkha looks up at Oliver, not lifting her face from his chest. "I could hold my breath?" she suggests. "Or we just make a run for it?"

"Are y'ready ta leave? D'you feel a'rite?" As she rests against Oliver, he has a good view of her back, and he leans forward to inspect the wounds he inflicted.

The wounds are as healed up as they could be, only a new crosshatch of scars remaining. "Physically, I'm alright. But..." Senkha doesn't say it aloud, but something inside of her admits that here feels safe to her as well. It's the darkest, ugliest place they've ever been, but they're still here, and still -together- and that's beautiful.

Oliver runs a hand over the scars, his frown returning. Her response, though, brings him out of it. "... Y'don't want t' leave." He doesn't sound surprised, but at the same time, he doesn't sound like he was expecting it.

Senkha shakes her head just barely, closing her eyes again. "There's a world out there. I'm not sure we're quite ready to face it again."

"Y'think we ain't? Ah face th' world purty well, most th' tahm. But if y'wanna stay here, we'll stay raht here." Oliver pauses. "Ain't nuthin' fer you ta eat, though."

"I'm not hungry," Senkha confesses and then, for reasons that probably only make sense -because- it's them, she reaches up and kisses Oliver. It's a long, firm, aching kiss, like they so often exhange.

Oliver is still just a bit too bewildered by the entire situation to meet her kiss with as much life as she's putting into hers, but he smiles. "Y'will be."

"Then we can leave when I'm hungry," Senkha states decisively. "For now... I like that it's dark here. And cold. Light, I'm a peculiar person that such things comfort me, hmm?"

Oliver makes a sound, something between a grunt and a short laugh. "It's no wonder y'lahk me."

"Must be why they're comforting. They remind me of you." Senkha does not add that the rank smell of death pervading the air here also reminds her of him. It kind of goes without saying.

"Well," Oliver says flatly. "Welcome t'my flyin' treehouse, Ah guess." He sags a bit, relaxing. They're going to be here a while.

"I wish I had a flying treehouse," Senkha states in a bit of a whine, before adding, "if you'd like to leave, go home or something, we can. Just... feels safe here."

"It is safe here. Ain't no place safer. If y'can ignore th' fact that a lot 'a these folks is two eyetics away from bein' skurge."

"What stops them? What keeps them sane?"

"Don't know," Oliver admits. "If'n y'watch Stormwind fer a day, y'kin see sometahms they dun' always hang on. Ah think most, though, jus' fear death."

"Or damnation," Senkha suggests. "Or do you think they fear death because they remember it?" And then she squeaks slightly. "I'm sorry, I know you hate it when people talk about death knights like you're not even there."

"Senkha. Yer talkin' -at- me." He looks down at her, his brows pressing together in concern. He goes on, though. "Some's jus' happy with whut they is. They enjoy th' power. They enjoy th' immortality. They enjoy th' killin'."

Senkha doesn't know how to react to the first, so instead, she just asks, "But you don't? I mean. I know you don't. I know you love and hate it. But." She frowns. Her question came out all wrong.

Oliver continues to look at her worriedly, eventually sighing and letting his hand drop from her head to her shoulder, which he squeezes gently. "Yer a'rite. An' yes, Ah do. Th' skurge made me a damned sadist, an' Ah hate it more'n anythin' else. They fergot t' take away my regret, Ah guess."

"Maybe they didn't forget. Maybe they just remembered that they had regret once, too." Senkha reaches up and takes Oliver's hand, turning her head to press her lips to his fingers. "Is it strange for you, coming back here?"

Oliver snorts at that assessment, his memories of the Scourge do not depict them as sympathetic beings. He feels the pressure of her lips on his hand and leans forward to kiss the back of her head. He rests his good cheek on top of it after he does. "No. Don't mind it here."

"It's safe here," Senkha repeats and relaxes against Oliver.

Mairèad, Lius, Bryn, & Shepard: June 23

Mairèad sits quietly, eyes closed. She is apparently trying to meditate.

Lius glances to his left, head tilting in slow and jerky movements. It lingers there for a moment before turning back to Mairead, a small chuckle escaping the veil of shadow.

Mairèad 's cheek twitches slightly at the laugh, though she doesn't open her eyes. "You've come back to th'city," she observes.

Lius sighs, rolling his head to scan the sky. "So I 'ave, little sister."

Mairèad 's expression flickers for a moment to one of pain, though she still doesn't open her eyes. "Have you recovered from yer madness? Are you done hurtin' people?"

Lius takes a single step forward, his fingers toying with the hilt of his blade. "Hurt people, little sister? I 'ave 'urt no one, I fix them. I 'ave fixed ye all at one time or another. Ye seem quick t'forget tha'."

Mairèad finally opens her eyes, staring at the tree rather than at Lius. "I haven't fergotten. Walk with me?"

Lius says: Fine then, we shall walk.

Mairèad nods, letting her libram fall at her side. She doesn't look either to the right or to the left as she begins, well, walking.
Mairèad -finally- looks at Lius. "Lius, what are y'doin'. Yer actin' like you've been alone all this time, but we've been -here-. I've been -here-. Meditatin', prayin', but here. And you've jest... gone -mad-."

Lius stares ahead of him, still toying with the hilt of his blade. "Ye've been as far as gone as any of th'others. I 'ave nae gone mad, little sister, I 'ave merely found m'self."

Mairèad says: And -where- have I gone? I've been -here-. I've been waitin' fer alla you t'come back.

Lius says: An' none will. They're all gone, we're all gone. We're all ghosts.

Mairèad shakes her head. "I'm more alive than I've evarrr been before. And y'ent a ghost. I saw yer ghost... this ent it."

Lius tilts his head, staring at the lamp post. His hand slips away from the knife, a line of shadow perfectly mirroring the movement of his arm. "M'ghost 'as yet t'escape, dear sister. It claws an' bites, all it wants is t'be released."

Mairèad watches the shadow, looking up to Lius' face. "You wish fer death, then," she guesses quietly. "Yer ghost came to me when I was sick. He laughed at me, said he was gunna kill people and there was nothin' I could do."
Mairèad says: Is that true? D'you wanna kill people? D'you wanna die?

Lius lets out a condescending chuckle. "Do I wish fer death? Nae...nae." He shakes his head, the shadow appearing again. "I cannae die, why woul' I wish fer it?"

Mairèad says: Everyone can die, even the dead. Answer me question: d'you wanna kill people? D'you wanna cause more pain?
Mairèad 's voice shakes just a little on the last word.

Lius says: I only cause pain so tha' people may enjoy pleasure. Wha' is life withou' contrast? Bleak, colorless, without scent. We wander mindlessly.

Mairèad says: If people wanna contrast their pleasure and pain, that should be -their- choice, not yers. If they wanna be bleak and colorless, that's -their- choice, not yers. It ent up t'you to decide who's hurt and who ent!

Lius says: My blades say otherwise, little sister. They hum an' they sing as they meet flesh, th'world comes back through their chorus.

Mairèad closes her eyes, her face tensing in pain. "I cannot let you go down this path...me brother. I cannot let you fall so far from grace that the Light can't touch you."

Lius snaps his head towards her, nearly to the point of his neck breaking, it looks rather painful. "Th'Light? Wha' do ye know of th'light, little sister? Ye only made it out of tha' fuckin' mess of a drop because of me, nae th'Light."

Bryn can't be invisible, even though she wishes she could. Instead, the girl has been silently watching in one of the far shadows of the odd tunnel-thing. "Don't kill m'Surgeon, Mair."

Mairèad was going to make a big speech about the Light being her shield and such but Bryn interrupts her train of thought. She hasn't even reached for her sword yet. "If he is a danger t'you or to the Alliance, I will do what must be done."

Lius turns his body to face her, the constant echo of shadow mirroring every inch of movement. "Ye think ye can kill me, little sister?" He laughs, small bursts of shadow pushing against the veil.

Bryn says: ... Lius, don't kill 'er. Please.

Lius rolls his head, crazed laughter and a singsong voice coming through. "Buuuttt we're all ghooossstttssss~"

Mairèad 's hand rests on the hilt of her sword, finally, though she still doesn't draw it. "The Light will give me th'stren'th to do what must be done. I won't let you fall to the shadow, brother."

Lius says: A shame tha' ye view it as falling, rather than th'ascension tha' it is.

Mairèad says: An ascension doesn't end with people dyin'. An ascension doesn't end with pain. That ent enlightenment; it's madness.

Lius says: If ye wish t'break yerself against me, little sister, we shall do it where guards will nae aid yer cause. If ye can still tha' tingling between yer legs long enough t'pull a blade, if ye can quench tha' lust tha' ye've always felt fer me.
Lius breaks into laughter again. He amuses himself so.

Bryn remains silent, watching. When did he bring his knives? When did she let him slip?

Mairèad shakes her head, looking disgusted. "Yer madness ent appealin'. We've all failed you, Lius. I shan't fail you this time. I shall give you what you deserve."

Lius says: Ye know m'home, little sister. Ye'll 'ave nae 'elp there, shoul' ye wish t'kill yer salvation, it will be there.
Lius gives a sharp whistle. ROCKETS RESPOND TO WHISTLES.

[at Lius' home]

Mairèad breathes softly, shivering in the rain. He's in his shadowform; this can only end well.

Lius says: Nae hallowed ground 'ere, Paladin.

Mairèad says: Gilneas wasn't hallowed ground either.

Lius says: Others are nae 'ere t'keep ye alive, t'stop th'nightmare from claimin' ye.

Bryn says: Mair, please walk away. Let it be anybody but you.
Bryn 's gaze flickers between the two. Obvious inner turmoil is obvious.

Lius says: Pull yer blade an' claim yer prize, little sister. Pull my skeleton from me, smite m'soul away.

Mairèad says: I've no intention 'a doin' somethin' so demeanin'. I wish onleh to redeem yer soul fer the Light. If I can do so and spare yer life, I shall.
Mairèad still makes no move to draw her sword; if she's scared or angry or anything at all, she's hiding it pretty damn well.

Lius sighs, a surge of shadow taking his right arm. "Yer as mindless as th'rest, a shame tha' it is I tha' will 'ave t'set ye righ'."

Mairèad draws her shield and sword. "Are you that blind, brother? Have y'lost yer way so completely?" With her voice cracking on the last word, like a twelve-year-old boy to his hot teacher.

Lius says: I see a little girl defendin' somethin' tha' she doesnae even fully understand, an' striking out against those tha' protected 'er.

Mairèad says: You hid behind me and stuck thin's in me that made me mad fer blood to th'point where I couldn't see. And then you healed me, for which I thank you. I've sat idly by too many times, though, while you've threatened good people.
Mairèad says: And I've heard what you said about people like Bryn. About how yer wife and you fell in love makin' them scream. Y'said it to Emi.

Lius says: My little shadow understands me. Perhaps if ye did, it woul' be yerself at m'side instead of 'er. Is tha' wha' this is all abou'?
Lius chuckles, bringing the arm up, shadow errywhere. "Ye an' yer little wolf, aye, I 'ave 'eard."

Mairèad says: Yer 'little shadow'? D'you know nothin' about her? D'you know what yer -doin'- to her while she "understands" you?
Mairèad says: And Shep's got -nothin'- to do with this.

Lius says: I am givin' 'er a fresh view on life, allowin' 'er t'be 'erself. Unlike ye an' yers, who woul' see her kneelin' in th'church.
Lius says: I will tell ye, little sister, she kneels plenty.
Lius chuckles. blowjobs are funny.

Mairèad says: I'd have her -livin' her life- and not feelin' she needs t'be yer playthin' to earn love! I'd have her see that she has a family what loves her already, what won't turn her purple with burns! I'd have her understand that y'don't fix somethin' by lettin' it hurt you! And what of you? D'you know that th'onleh reason she comes around is 'cause she thinks you need her? 'Cause she doesn't realize that it could be anyone willin' t'let you burn 'em?

Lius shakes his head. "Perhaps she likes th'burn, little sister. Perhaps ye will as well? Let us find out." With that, he releases the buildup of shadow, sending a stream of the energy towards her head.

It's always the fucking head. Mairèad brings up her shield in the nick of time, the shadow colliding with it in a shower of golden sparks. The time for talking is now over. With barely a word of blessing breathed, she charges in, bringing her sword in an arc for Lius' side.

Lius blows his usual load of Dispersion, exploding into a fine mist of shadow. It only lasts a few seconds, the medic appearing on the fence. His entire body pulses with shadow, a single word spoken under his breath if the spell works, PSYCHIC HORROR, Mairead's world would become her worst waking nightmare.

Mairèad 's palerdin aura -mostly- does its trick, a burning pain searing right back at Lius. The world becomes hazy for a moment, though, and there are Liuses everywhere, all of them laughing. "Fuck hallucinatin's," she mutters, along with a word of prayer that sends jolts of holy Light in every direction.

Lius catches a bolt of holy pain in his shoulder, nearly losing his balance on the railing. His right hand flicks to the side, a shadowfiend poofing into existence before launching itself at the paladin. Lius is busy still trying not to fall.

Mairèad catches the shadowfiend on her shield, hissing as its tendrils lash at her arm. She drops her sword a second, a hammer of glowing Light appearing in her hand. This hammer she releases with an explosive BWONG into the shadowfiend's body, and even after that, it has enough energy to rebound straight for Lius.

Lius was too busy trying to gain his balance again to notice the hammer of fucking pain coming straight at him. He catches it in the chest, dropping to the ground. A low groan escapes, his hands groping for a vial along his belt, making no attempt to get up.

Mairèad grabs her sword and stands, the remains of the shadowfiend dispersing as she does. One step and she's closer to Lius; the next, and the ground below her glows golden with a consecration. And then she leaps for him.

Lius crushes the vial in his hand as soon as she's airborne, throwing his hand out at her as she comes down. The plague is infused with shadow, a mixture of the liquid and shards of glass flying towards her.

Mairèad is pretty glad to be a paladin at this point; the plague burns at her face and arms, but not nearly as much as it could. Now, though, her face is streaked with blood, tiny cuts appearing where the glass settled. And in her attempt to block the vial and keep herself from inhaling bees or something, she's turned herself into a flying ball of plate and Light that's falling straight down on Lius' groinal area.

Lius ' SHADOW EYEZ OF PURPLE ORB go wide at the sight of his dick nearly getting plowed into in a horrible way. One leg comes up to block the falling paladin, a loud snap sounding off as it breaks against the weight.

Mairèad grunts as she connects with Lius' leg, falling to the side. She's no more than landed on the ground than she brings her shield about to try and slam into his other knee.

Lius reaches a hand out for her face, screaming out as her shield takes out his other knee. He attempts to pretty much smother her face with his hand, shadow licking out towards her.

Mairèad gives a snarl of pain as the shadow licks out towards her face, attempting to smother her. Among her cries is a word of blessing, pushing an aureate shield out from her body for a few seconds, enough for her to scramble backwards, holding her hands to her now purple-burnt face.

Lius rolls, his legs useless. He lets out a sharp whistle. The rocket picks him up and rides into the sunset.

Mairèad roars as Lius rockets away, cursing her inability to ever wear a helm that covers her face. With shaking hands, she begins to try and mend the damage done.

Shepard totally comes running from the muddied road. He didn't materialize from the guillotine, nope. He skids to a halt before Mairead, eyes wide.

Mairèad 's hands are shaking so hard that she can barely bring them across her wounds. Her arm is healed pretty quickly, but her face... well. The tears aren't making it much better, that's for sure.

Shepard drops to a knee. With a shaking hand, he tentatively reaches out towards Mairead's arms, but stops short of actually touching them. The worgen looks to her for permission more than anything; he wants to assist in this healing endeavor, yo.

Mairèad just nods, dropping her hands from her face to fumble for her libram. She doesn't have to cleanse very often, and that's not a prayer she's memorized. "Lius," she says, by way of explanation. "Broke both his legs."

Shepard switches to helping with the libram; he brings it up, cracking it open, and slowly begins to flip the pages. His eyes are locked on Mairead, however, awaiting for any reaction. "Where is he now?" he growls.

Mairèad puts her hand on the pages of the libram once Shepard reaches the page she needs. "D-dunno... had a rocket, could be anywhere..." She runs her fingers over the words on the page, that familiar glow coming to her hands as she does. A bit of sparkle seems to carry the purple away from the burns on her face, leaving them nasty but just red.

Shepard snarls, a fist slamming into the nearby fence. It splinters. After that display of rage, he sighs. "...I should have been here with you," he mutters, looking the remaining traces of the burn over.

Mairèad 's burns are still pretty nasty, and she's still shaking pretty hard. Despite this, she leans towards Shepard as if for comfort. "He wouldn't have attacked if you were here. He's a c-coward like that."

Shepard inches forward, his arms immediately wrapping Mairead. "Then I would have hid, I would've-" He stops himself, grunting.
Shepard says: I could have waited. Close by. Watching.

Mairèad laughs softly, still weeping either way. "And when he attacked, you'd've jumped outta th'shadows and it'd be you all burnt."

Shepard says: Maybe, maybe not. I could've just gutted him from the shadows.
Shepard smiles, doing his best to appear brave and charming and confident... because yeah. This situation is fairly bleak. "But then, that wouldn't have been as dramatic, would it?"

Mairèad sighs. In this moment, she seems even older than Shepard. "I wanted to redeem him... I failed."

Shepard says: Redemption, Mair, can only come to those who wish for it. And sometimes, the ending to a story won't be a happy one.

Mairèad nods stiffly, her voice growing smaller as she speaks again. "S-shep? Remember after you bit me, what y'did to the wound?"

Shepard says: ... I licked it, didn't I?

Mairèad nods and tilts her face up towards Shepard. She looks -awful- and the aforementioned action would probably hurt like a bitch, but she still asks, "...would y'd-do that fer me now?"

Shepard looks away for just a moment, contemplating. And then he looks back with furrowed brows. "... Alright, Mair." His tongue pokes through a pair of jowls before raking across Mairead's face. It's a slow, gentle gesture.

Mairèad cringes in pain because, let's face it, this isn't going to tickle. She follows the movement of his tongue, though, with her fingers, gently mending the cleaned flesh, though still crying as she does so.

Shepard winces because, well. This is actually a little gross. But he soldiers on! Licking. Until there's nothing left to lick.

Mairèad doesn't disagree that it's kind of gross, but it's the comfort of the gesture more than anything that gets to her. Like having a cut kissed when you're a child. When it's over, the burns are largely gone from her face, though the newly-mended skin is paler than what surrounds it and is free of freckles.

Shepard says: ... We should get you somewhere warm. For rest.

Mairèad nods, letting her head fall against Shepard's shoulder. "I'm warm in yer arms, always," she murmurs because one is never too injured for shmoop. Nope.

Shepard laughs, but shakes his head. "Maybe, but I'll start smelling like wet dog soon. And I'm not exactly the best cover."

Mairèad says: Then let's go home. And tomorrow, I'll find me brother and send him home, too.

Shepard says: I'll be sure to join you.