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--- sessions:worldbuilding:2016-11-01 [2020/02/15 13:20] – pinkgothic
+++ sessions:worldbuilding:2016-11-01 [2023/09/18 15:05] (current) – external edit 127.0.0.1
@@ Line 60: / Line 60: @@
 The assassin stopped herself, shook her head, and sighed. "Anyway." She hesitated, then asked cautiously, "I, um... I was wondering. What is it like, with your family? Did they treat you well?"}}
-{{wst>reh|Demarath gives his visitor a quizzical look at the cut-off comment, not quite sure where she was going with that, but pressing for more information at the moment feels rude. He's quiet for a long moment,until she asks her questions. He bristles a bit at the latter, the past tense in it suggesting possibilities he's not quite ready to entertain. It's probably not intended as such, but in his current state he can't help but hear the darker implications.
+{{wst>reh|Demarath gives his visitor a quizzical look at the cut-off comment, not quite sure where she was going with that, but pressing for more information at the moment feels rude. He's quiet for a long moment, until she asks her questions. He bristles a bit at the latter, the past tense in it suggesting possibilities he's not quite ready to entertain. It's probably not intended as such, but in his current state he can't help but hear the darker implications.
 After a long, hesitant silence, Demarath finally speaks. "It's... complicated," he offers, haltingly. "My mother is..." A pause. "She cares about me. She doesn't always know how to show it, I think, but she does. My fathers... mostly keep their distance, besides Ashernath, who's generally tried to give me a 'normal' upbringing. I have a few brothers I don't see very often; they're usually out on scouting trips. My sisters  are..." He closes his eyes, lets out a slow exhale. "//Difficult.//" The room seems to get a bit colder at that word, though whether that's simply her imagination or the effects of Demarath's magic is anyone's guess.}}
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 Finally, she said, "Sorry if I touched on a sore point. I've just never... well, I wanted to know what it's like."}}
-{{wst>reh|Demarath responds to her comment with another slow, focused exhale, before shrugging off whatever was on his mind. "It's okay," he replies. "Not so much a sore point as a less than pleasant part of life." There's a pause, then a frown, confusion gnawing at him. He opens his eyes again, glancing sideways at his visitor, searching her posture for answers. Then, "...Know what what's like?}}
+{{wst>reh|Demarath responds to her comment with another slow, focused exhale, before shrugging off whatever was on his mind. "It's okay," he replies. "Not so much a sore point as a less than pleasant part of life." There's a pause, then a frown, confusion gnawing at him. He opens his eyes again, glancing sideways at his visitor, searching her posture for answers. Then, "...Know what what's like?"}}
 {{wst>shyriath|"Well, just... family, I suppose. I've seen families from outside, of course, but I don't usually talk to them." Ilirith's antennae curled in a grim smile. "And they don't have witches in them, anyway."}}
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 That line of thought gets somewhat interrupted by Ilirith's troubled musing triggering a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Um..." A pause, punctuated by nervous fidgeting. "Do you -- I don't think you really need to check right now, do you?" He suddenly looks to the floor, cringing a little in embarrassment. "I mean, I don't want to interrupt your duties, if... if you think you should then it's probably a good idea. It's just that --" Another pause, then he exhales sharply.  "No, never mind, it's okay, forget I said anything."}}
-{{wst>shyriath|Ilirith's antenna twitched. Even if Demarath's discomfiture hadn't been visually obvious,she felt the signals being given off by his mind. Why did he care whether she investigated or not? "I'd rather," she remarked, "that you finish saying what you started."}}
+{{wst>shyriath|Ilirith's antenna twitched. Even if Demarath's discomfiture hadn't been visually obvious, she felt the signals being given off by his mind. Why did he care whether she investigated or not? "I'd rather," she remarked, "that you finish saying what you started."}}
 {{wst>reh|Demarath inhales deeply, then slowly lets it out, taking the time to steel himself. "It's just...today's been pretty awful. I mean... granted, it could have been a lot worse, if the circumstances were slightly different, and all things told I'm lucky to still be alive, but still. I did //not// wake up today thinking I'd be going to sleep in a jail cell. And, well..." More fidgeting. "Despite all of that, getting a chance to talk to a fellow witch is probably the best thing that's happened to me all turn. And, um, I was... kind of hoping it wouldn't be over quite so quickly?" He winces a little, antennae scrunching up against his neck. "I know, I know, it's a really selfish request, and it's more than  I deserve, but you're... You've actually been nice to me."}}
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 {{wst>reh|Breathe in. Breathe out.
-It's just as well that she doesn't bother waiting for a response -- there's not one coming. It'snot until she's locked the door again that he even dares to open his eyes again, watching her leave, trying to follow the cloaked shape as it vanishes into the shadows. He waits until he's sure she's gone; one breath, two, three, four, five, six... and then finally allows himself to curl up on himself, sobbing.
+It's just as well that she doesn't bother waiting for a response -- there's not one coming. It's not until she's locked the door again that he even dares to open his eyes again, watching her leave, trying to follow the cloaked shape as it vanishes into the shadows. He waits until he's sure she's gone; one breath, two, three, four, five, six... and then finally allows himself to curl up on himself, sobbing.
 Stupid. That was needlessly stupid, he forgot his place, he should know better than to challenge the person whose job is to guard him. He stares down at the cracked bowl in his hands, a part of him sorely tempted to defy her demand even now, just out of sheer stubbornness -- after all, who would know if he just experimented a little bit? The answer is obvious; she would, after she read his mind later. He tosses the bowl aside to remove any immediate temptations, listening to it skitter across the stone floor, then flops back onto the bed, closing his eyes against the world, trying not to think about how many powerful women he's managed to anger in a single vigil.
 Maybe if he goes to sleep, he'll wake up to find today's just been a terrible dream.}}