Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
"I have a lot of reasons to want to stand up again, most of all being bed sores. Heard about them, and don't want them. I will not be some invalid to be cared for." He spoke calmly, even though there was a bit of ire in his voice. It wasn't really aimed anywhere." He watched her move across the room, avoiding the glass. Undoubtedly someone would clean it up eventually.
"It's ironic, you know. I once swore an oath to take down the Brotherhood before the Queen herself. Now it seems that it's my only hope for salvation. I've got nowhere to go. No home, no family. Undoubtedly your father would literally crap his britches if I insisted on continuing to court you." That last bit brought a bit of his smile back. He turned, looking into Cait's eyes. "My feelings haven't changed, though, and I have to assume you still care about me after all you risked to free me."
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Sept 30, 2015 4:33:56 GMT
She understood his frustration, remembered it like it was yesterday and not nearly a year ago. The last time they were together... she had been the one incapacitated. Not by a gun shot but by a knife wound. Strange how fate brought them together again only to trade places. She bristled a little at his oath, but when he smiled at her, she couldn't look away. There was the hint of something familiar. Someone she once knew. He got serious again, and candid with her regarding his feelings. A tremor of fear ran through her. Or maybe that was guilt.
"It was the least I could do, since I'm the reason you were tossed in there to begin with. If not for me, you could have fought back, if not for me, you wouldn't even have been in that situation. I owed it to you, and more. I owed it to you to free you sooner, and I failed you in that. I'm sorry." She seemed to shrink in on herself, becoming tinier and tinier as she spoke her apologies.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Skye wasn't about to let her beat herself up, when it wasn't her mistake to begin with. He took her chin gently and turned her face to look back at him. If she resisted, of course, he would relent. He wasn't about to break her neck. Either way, his words were, "Is that what you've thought this whole time? Don't beat yourself up. The only one to blame is Alistair. He's the one who hired that sadistic bastard who stabbed you. If anything it was my relationship with you that caused the whole thing to begin with. Alistair wanted you gone to hurt me. I guess he decided to improvise when I gave him the perfect excuse to frame me as the ripper."
Skye shook his head, he could still see the smug bastard as he gloated about the whole thing, just before slamming the cell door. "There's enough blame here to go back and forth for hours, but it won't do any good. The only thing that matters is, you saved me, and I'm here now." he took her hand, at that, and gave it a kiss. She hadn't really admitted that she still cared about him, and that bothered him a bit. It had been eight months, what if she'd moved on. She hadn't been his to begin with, what right did he have to put any claim on her. Still, with all those scenarios it did little to quench the fire she stirred inside of him.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Sept 30, 2015 5:22:14 GMT
She allowed him to gently guide her eyes back to his, she allowed him to comfort her with in words, even though she didn't think she deserved it. She remembered what Alistair had said to him, before making his arrest... about Faolan's family, his deceased family. And she frowned.
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it. How much energy was this taxing from him? He was doing so well. Maybe all the magical attempts, as rudimentary as they were, and the classical human healing were taking effect. Her hope for his recovery blossomed. "Of course, but I didn't do it alone, I just had to wait till I had enough support to believe we could get you out. And a good lead on whether or not you were being held in the city." Truth be told that lead never came, they took the risk all the same. Where would they be today had they not found him in the cell? Would they have continued searching until every one of them was arrested or killed? The soldiers didn't look like they were taking prisoners that night. Chances were they'd be dead.
But they weren't.
And neither was he.
A little weathered over time, but still Faolan Skye. Still the gentlemen he was before.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
He sincerely wanted to kiss her at that moment, but after laying in the bed for so long, he was sure it would be less than desirable. If he caused her to pass out, he doubted he'd be able to get her up off the floor. Her men would probably think he'd attack her.
"Alright, enough coddling. You're a freaking Pirate Queen, and I'm...well I'm' Faolan Skye, soon to be scourge of our friend Alistair. So, I'll let you get freshened up, and then you're going to help me do a lap around the room. Time to get those muscles trained to be obedient once more," he gave her hand a squeeze and one of his trademark smiles to go with it. He'd also be damned if she was going to have to help him go to the bathroom as well. There were certain things a man of proper etiquette did not ask, especially of one they were so enamored with. This would be enough for now, and if it kept his mind off their current relationship status for a bit longer, all the better. He was getting somewhat fearful of her eventual answer if he should be so direct again.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Sept 30, 2015 6:30:18 GMT
Her train of thought wondered back to what HAD prompted them to act that night, and it wasn't just the storm.... Danny's mission would come to fruition with or without Caitlins, and she had to make the best of her resources while they were still unemployed before the coming seige. She was so deep in her thoughts of what she had to do next... what it cost her to risk their lives and how she'd be paying them in kind in the future.. that she missed the look of longing on his face, the sincere urge to kiss her. Though it was probably for the best.
He piped up with enthusiasm and shook her from her worries. She straightened her back and forced a smile as he squeezed her hand. "Anything you need, I am happy to help. And so will the crew, I'll make sure they know that you are my guest and your requests are to be honored without question." She stood, tearing her hand from his, though it cost her emotionally. If it weren't for her newest developments with Levi, she wouldn't have had the heart to tear away. She would have spent hours relearning Skye's face, seeing everything about him and reminding herself that he was real, and that he was finally free. Instead, it was her burden to ensure the line between them stayed drawn. Otherwise, any connection they felt now would later be sullied by the unspoken truth. It would become a lie, every lingering sight, or brush of the hand, anything that implied tenderness or love would become vile in their recollection.
"I'll just... clean up... and, I'll be right back." she promised, rushing quickly to the door and letting herself out. On the other side of the closed cabin, she rubbed her aching forehead, and sniffed at her own skin, wondering how much she wreaked of booze.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
"Pick up the pace, Commander!" he heard Caitlin yelling at him, and not for the first time. She used his former title like a whip, reminding him who he used to be and how much further he still had to go. The last few days had been his own personal hell. He'd asked her to push him, and she had completely risen to the challenge. She was the pirate queen, she had a lot of experience with driving new recruits and she wasn't cutting him any slack.
The first day had been a lot of falling, to the point that he felt his knees might break. He had been so frustrated, used to walking effortlessly, and now he had to fight for every step. To make matters worse, he had no depth perception and kept running into objects he didn't even know where there. It made him angry, and he wanted to lash back, at Caitlin in particular for her constant pushing, but he kept it in and channeled it towards his ultimate goal. He'd gone to bed that night broken and abused, hurting more than he had his first day of basic training.
The unrelenting push had not let up, and here he was today, trying to walk briskly between the cabin door and the fore of the ship. He still couldn't run, but he was getting better at not falling over. He was also remembering where all the obstacles were. The first time he'd run smack into a pylon and almost knocked himself out. The crew had joined in a bout of well deserved laughter. Now they were occasionally cheering him on as they went about their duties. Cait was not so kind, and he loved her all the more for it. She'd never once left his side during this whole ordeal. He just hoped when it was over that he could somehow repair what they'd once had.
Sweat drenched his body as he started the fifth rotation. When the heck had airships gotten so large. It felt like miles between the aft and the fore. His own determination would have waned long ago in the face of all this, but she kept pushing. He'd learned something else about her these past few days, she could have one heck of a dirty mouth when she wanted to.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Oct 1, 2015 0:36:13 GMT
He was a hard worker, and a good soldier. It showed in the way he fought for every step and pushed through the pain. She'd thought a lot about what he'd said that morning, the one about his oath to take down the Brotherhood and how now it seemed like his only hope for salvation. He would do well here. If the emotional damage didn't chase him away first. Having an army deserter like Lorraine made for a remarkable asset in their ranks, but having the former commander himself... now that would turn the tides for a lot of their envoys.
Except for that one thing... that one, untouched issue that stood between them like a giant water balloon about to burst.
The smells from the DFAC reached their noses, dinner was on the table and it smelled delicious. She could tell the moment it hit Skye's senses and she trained her face into a hard glare. "Don't even think about it unless that thought is used as fuel to motivate your feet to finish this lap. There are no shortcuts. We'll come back and sit down to dinner as soon as we've completed our training. You with me?" She asked, her tone of voice rhetorical, even if he answered her anyway- he'd have to complete the lap. It was for his own sake so that he could get better.
It was a funny thing, these last few days - pushing him the way she felt she ought. It was like being a little kid again and having her fencing instructor drill her for hours on end, except now she was him. And at the same time... she also felt like she'd turned into her mother, struggling not to run to the student and kiss away every ache and pain. He needed this. They all did. Time was running short. She couldn't stay with him forever like this - she had a job to do, and it didn't sit well with her to leave that job to her subordinates and spare herself the same risks they were taking. The only reason she delayed this long was for him. She couldn't leave him till she felt he could take care of himself.
He would do the same for me, she thought, it's a matter of principle. Was it though? Or was she being selfish for the sake of spending that lost time with him? Her doctors could rehabilitate him, but she insisted on doing it herself.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
"Yes ma'am," he said, tossing in a salute for good measure. What he really wanted to do was collapse on the ground, or maybe strangle her. After this they would have to bring him dinner on a cart. All he could think about was food now. The smell was intoxicating. So he pushed himself towards his breaking point, reciting that pain was only weakness leaving the body. He'd heard that enough in basic training. Keep going, there is no weakness, weakness is for civilians. Well, he was a civilian now, but there was still no room for weakness.
Touching the rail at the fore of the ship, he turned to come back. He could feel his legs turning to jelly, but he didn't care. His eyes were now set on their final goal; Caitlin. If only he could figure out what she had to gain from all of this. Sure, he was an asset, but she surely had doctors to see to all of this. Her duties were many, and she certainly had things to attend to. Of course, if the rolls were reversed, he would be the one pushing her now, refusing to leave her no matter how much his duties called him away. How could he ever accept that she might be over him when everything she did spoke the reverse? He could feel something in between them, certainly, but he couldn't ask. He didn't want to know the truth, not yet, not in his condition.
Reaching his goal at last, he all but collapsed at her feet, breathing heavily. Instinctively, he grabbed her shoulder, falling against her instead of on the deck. There was no way he was moving any further without a crutch at this point. "I'm pretty sure, that's all she wrote," he smiled even as his body was pressed against her, and his face inches from hers. "So how about that dinner?"
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Oct 1, 2015 3:59:39 GMT
He could be cheeky when he wanted to, she thought when he saluted her. It seemed such a simple thing. Walking with purpose down a long hall, crossing from one end of the ship to the other, but he'd done it five times already and watching him sweat with the effort made her appreciate her own mobility that much more. Amazing the things they took for granted until someone else struggled with it right in front of them. She silently cheered him on in her head, and every time he leaned a little too much into one of his steps and she thought he might fall, her body would tense up and her hands would raise, suspended and ready to cover her mouth to keep from yelping for him. He managed to finish his exercise though, and without incident.
At least, until he bodily collapsed against her. Caitlin braced herself, leaning on the wall for support as he leaned into her. It was a cozy arrangement, except for the sheen of sweat on his brow and neck, and the way that thin glistening layer brushed against her face when he leaned into her, leaving a cool salty wetness on her cheek. She was smiling, not bothered by the exchange. Sweat didn't offend her. He steadied enough to smile and make a joke, which he followed immediately with a request for food. Who could blame him?Caitlin's eyes stared up into his, just inches from her own. Closer than they had been in a long time, especially given his height. He was thinner, paler than he used to be, but he was still just as tall, and while he'd lost one eye, the other still lit up around her. He had a strange kind of glow. Since it was always there when she saw him, she assumed it to be his charisma. It was easy to mistake the look of love and how it transformed a person, when you were the one they were in love with.
"...." It wasn't easy, but she broke the spell, tearing her eyes from his and pushing her back off the wall. It meant pressing into him, but it also meant rearranging themselves so she could slide under his arm and glide them through the kitchen doors. "I think you've more than earned your meal, and more than need it to recoup your strength sir. But I admire how far your willpower carried you back to this door." She laughed lightly. "Must be hungrier than I gave you credit for."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
He let her lead him through the doors and into the kitchen, trying not to lean on her too heavily. He listened to her words and shook his head, "You are mistakin, My Lady. The willpower was not derived from reaching this door, it came from reaching you." He left it at that. There was a lot in that statement, and she could read it whichever way she wanted to. She was the only reason he was still going.
There were many moments he wanted to just let go and spend the rest of his days confined to a bed. The day he'd found out he'd never see again from his left side was one of those moments. Why continue when everything had been taken from him? But she pushed him, and forced him to put on this false bravado. He could let himself down, but he couldn't let her down. So he was pretending to be stronger than he was, and in that, the lie was becoming a reality.
She guided him to a seat, and he sat down heavily. His whole body ached, but he was willing to ignore that in favor of the food. He was starving, and he certainly could afford to put on a few more pounds. Alistair had taken much from him, but he would recover. "So what's on the menu tonight?"
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Oct 9, 2015 0:37:44 GMT
She blushed. Yes, she could still blush, turns out losing her innocence didn't mean losing her modesty completely. Plus it was just one time... forever burned into her memory, but it would take more than once to turn her into a complete unclothe Ladybird. They found seats and fell into them, then Caitlin rose and gestured for him to wait. When she returned, she came with two plates steaming with minced beef in a rich gravy, covered by mashed potatoes and baked until golden and bubbling. On the side were mushy peas boiled and mashed with salt, pepper, lemon zest and butter; a classic side to fish and chips, but equally as delicious with beef and potatoes. She put the fuller plate down in front of him, and kept the more modest one for herself.
"Eat up, tomorrow's going to be even more involved than today."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
The man dove into the delectable meal like a man possessed. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he sat down and the food arrived. He knew as well as the others that he needed to build some muscle mass again, but it was more than that. It was as if he'd been set on a deserted island for months with nothing more than coconuts. A little of this, a little of that, mix it all together and put it in his mouth. It was delicious, where did she ever find a cook so good? Of course it wasn't his first meal here, but this was by far the best thing he'd had in quite a while.
When he finally slowed down again, he gave Cait an apologetic and goofy grin. "I guess I'm not much for dinner conversation, not like our last date. Thank you for all of this, by the way. If I haven't said it enough, I wouldn't be where I am right now without a slave driver like you." He gave her a salute with his fork and grinned even more. "Honestly, Its no wonder your crew is so well behaved." Not that he was expecting people to dress and act like actual pirates of legend, but these fellows seemed more like a military crew than rogues and cutthroats.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Oct 12, 2015 21:24:10 GMT
Although he was teasing her, she took each word as a compliment, and kept her response to a simple smile as they cherished their meal.
By the end of the week though, he'd bounced back so strongly that it was hard to believe he'd struggled to walk not many days earlier. Now, here they were, at the very top of the sky tower, having left the ship to stretch their legs in a manner other than running circles around the same track day in and out again.
Even Caitlin, given all her experience with flying, felt a sense of vertigo at the top of the tower. There were no open windows, or exterior decks walk out on simply due to the risks that would pose, but the jaunt was rewarded with a beautiful view through it's conservatory dome. Dead center was a rotating light similar to the lighthouse down the coast that alerted seafaring ships of the rocky shoreline. For the moment, Caitlin and Skye were the only two up here, and they could take all the time they needed to catch their breaths and marvel at the whispy clouds that hung low on the tower, like a dreamscape carpet of whip cream beneath an endless sky which they could espy above it.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Up so high above the world, it was easy to forget the problems of those below. The city looked so calm from here, but down below there was strife and crime and suffering. He'd thought to end that by bringing the Anders and the humans closer together, but he'd underestimated the power of hate and prejudice. It was a wonderful dream, but perhaps he'd just gone about it the wrong way. Was it still possible?
"Do you think there will ever be a day when Anders and Humans can live as equals? What kind of world have we built that even someone like you has to hide who they really are," he shook his head and turned to face her, looking away from the city below. She looked as beautiful tonight as ever, and it was a nice break to not have her yelling at him to move it. Coupled with their somewhat romantic location and it would have been a perfect place to properly thank her for the work she'd done, but there was still something holding them apart.
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