[right][code]Casey's Office, The Cannery Apartments. > Home[/code][/right]
Another successful date went off without a hitch. After spending an intimate night together, the glowing couple descended the snowy mountain and made their way back to the raw and rainy coast of St. Portwell. That entire Monday was spent by both parties working out logistics for the upcoming events of Thursday. The nightmarish onslaught was approaching closer and closer…

Casey made the time to approach Lynette about the business left unfinished during their last visit. This time, without Trisha. Talks weren’t [i]pleasant[/i], ending in a rather somber moment between mother and son where neither knew what exactly to say to the other.

[color=8882be][i]”I guess the best thing I could do as a mother is get it over with. Spare my children any further pain.”[/i][/color]

[color=577d06][i]”You could give this up! Live to see your grandchildren be born!”[/i][/color]

[color=8882be][i]”You’ll never understand until you have children… What they do to your [b]heart![/b]”[/i][/color]

Whatever it was, she wasn’t planning on letting go of the reins that she had in her hands. Not while she was still alive. She made it very clear that Project Eden moves forward, on her schedule. He just wondered if the rumblings he heard about Sycamore were true… That things were shifting elsewhere, and that pressure may increase ahead of schedule. 

Because if things moved for them, it meant things were going to get [i]very[/i] dicey. Who knew what supply lines would look like soon… Maybe that was why she was just laying down ready to die. Or, maybe that was her ultimate plan? Some kind of false sense of security?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that there was going to be a very [i]special[/i] visitor coming to the Cannery today ahead of the next day’s events. A special visitor with an [i]extra[/i] special package in tow.
He was dressed nicely, as if he were at some kind of business. In fact, everyone in the office was dressed above board from usual. Most of the time, the resident-workers shuffled upstairs for their shifts still in pajamas. Today, everyone had ties and dresses. Even Casey, who had a great deal of help from Trisha in looking presentable as possible.

[color=577d06]”Gramps and Gram aren’t stiffs… They’re honestly hilarious. But, y’know, they’re both from a certain time.-”[/color] Casey explained to Trisha as they sat around in his office waiting.
[color=577d06]”-They like things orderly. Makes it feel more respectable, and less like some domestic pigsty we live in and happen to work out of. You look fantastic by the way, Babe. It means a lot that you’d meet them. Like I said, they are definitely [i]not[/i] like how my family here is.”[/color]

He was dressed in black slacks and suspenders, his dress shoes polished and shining in the light of the office. His dark grey and pale grey striped shirt accented by a complementing tie gave him a slimmed look to his figure in spite of his massive stature. Little gold cufflinks with black ivory from a magical elephant species accented his wrists, and he tugged his arm to adjust the sleeve before looking at Trisha with a smile. He was leaned up against the desk rather than sitting, and was all smiles.

[color=577d06]”Like I said, Elise will be here… But, she’ll take a back seat. Won’t have much of a choice if Gram is feeling well.”[/color]

Trisha was glad Casey thought she looked fantastic, after hours agonising over what to wear before more hours actually getting ready. In the end, she’d opted for something more simple but smart. A light grey, plaid wool dress with a skirt that fell to just above her knees - longer than she’d normally opt for. It had a tight bodice with thin straps and a straight neckline. She’d opted to wear it over a black turtleneck top. It wasn’t a very typical [i]Trisha[/i] outfit, but it was one she felt fit for this specific situation.

Her makeup was subtle: covering up blemishes, some eyeshadow and lip gloss. Nothing too obvious without looking closer. She’d pulled her long waves back into a braided bun at the nape of her neck. 

[color=d1b300]“How am I supposed to greet them, then? I’ve gotten used to the rest of your family…”[/color] She bit her lip a bit. It was impossible for her to not be nervous. She had very little experience with grandparents in general- she had no clue who her dad’s parents even were, and had met her Lola- her mom’s mom- only a handful of times. Liking things orderly added [i]pressure[/i]. At least with Lynette, and his siblings, she didn’t have to try to make a good impression. Or didn’t feel the need to, at least. 

She was anxious enough she could barely take in how handsome Casey looked dressed like this…
[color=d1b300]“But [i]of course[/i] I’m meeting them. The worst impression is not being there at all- well, maybe not. They might end up hating me, which would be worse than not being there at all. What if that happens?”[/color]

[color=577d06]”I mean… They’re weird? Right? I guess start with a nice curtsey? Gramps’ll take your hand and kiss it. You’re wearing the family ring, right? Countess Mallory?”[/color] 
He looked down at her finger. The wide and silvery shimmering ring with the green and blue nodule atop glinted in the light above them.

[color=577d06]”Yeah, that one… He’ll say a prayer to it. It’s not to you, but he’ll… Fuckin’... He’s gonna ask if you know the story. I’m sorry, I was trying to avoid it, but he’s gonna bring it up. Or, he’ll let Gran take care of it. If you get her in private, you could probably tell her how you feel about the Temple; you’ll find her a staunch ally in the fight against my Mother…”[/color] he laughed to her.

[color=577d06]”Just be… Formal, but relaxed. If that makes sense?”[/color]

It was already feeling very unrelaxed the moment a curtsey was brought into it. Trisha had [i]never[/i] curtseyed to someone else. Who would a Vanburen do that to? Especially one who didn’t give a fuck about the family name or staying in anyone’s good graces. 

But she did for Casey, and for family elders that would still be around a year from now… Elders who had made the ring he was going to propose with. 
[color=d1b300]“I don’t think formal and relaxed normally go together? I’ll… try. I’m not really used to be anything but annoyed in formal settings, especially family ones.”[/color]

Not that any of their private family events were formal. Just the many dinners, events and galas she’d been dragged to in her many years… 

[color=d1b300]“It’s a [i]bit[/i] relieving that your Grandmother won’t be upset about how I feel about the temple… Will your Grandfather that I don’t know the story behind the ring? Do I- Should I pretend to be religious at all?”[/color] His words weren’t really enough to make her relax. The anxiety was going to be there until it was done… But though it didn’t seem like it right now, it would be completely hidden as soon as they actually arrived. 

It was only coming about because she felt safe with him. 

[color=577d06]”As long as you don’t start screaming [i]’Hail Satan’[/i], they won’t ask questions. He’s not going to be mad at [i]you[/i], but he will swear at me in French, and I’ll probably tell him that it was Mom’s idea to not tell you the meaning behind the rings. All heat comes off us. Remember, while the people around me as a child mentally abused me? These two old people treated me like the most special little boy. Nurtured, y’know? Lots of arguments about needing to ‘handle me differently’.”[/color] he explained, trying his best to speak to his beloved grandparents’ good natures.

[color=577d06]”They’re not part of the [i]Temple[/i], if that makes sense? If the Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals are Baptists, my grandparents and their organization are the Congregationalists. Less specific. Less crazy. More broad and based in their beliefs. I’d say they’re Puritans, but that would make them sound more crazy…”[/color]

Trisha nodded, seeming to let go of a little bit of tension. She could deal with a less crazy branch. She’d grown up around Catholicism with her mom, at least, so she knew enough to get by if necessary… And her own beliefs were so lacking that she’d never bother arguing against what someone else believed. 

[color=d1b300]“I’m not sure anyone can be [i]more[/i] crazy.”[/color] She managed a little giggle, trying to think of what that would be like. It was impossible to imagine. But no matter what they ended up like, she could put up with it if they’d actually treated Casey well when he was young. 

[color=d1b300]“They must love you, then… Are they overprotective at all?”[/color] Another worry. Something that could go either way. They could be happy he was happy, or they could view her as someone that could hurt him… 

Casey shook his head.
[color=577d06]”Not anymore. Gramps was one of the spectating judges in my fight against Furio. He didn’t say much, but I felt the change. He didn’t look at me like that helpless little boy anymore.”[/color] 

Oddly, Casey was beaming as he said that. Maybe it was a shitty circumstance, but it felt amazing to prove something to someone who had been such an untouchable figure in his life like his Grandfather. After all, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in the Richoux clan… Maxwell the Second was no less of a pugilist, famed explorer, Grandmaster Artificer; and Sylvie Richoux? There were no words for the power held in that little woman’s hands…

[color=577d06]”I think it really is my time to shine, y’know? To uh… Make them feel good about having had my back as a kid. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to run away to them, and how every time we went to New York, I’d always beg to stay.”[/color] his beaming smile became a gentle and passive glare at nothing in particular. Just memories in a forgotten time.

But time was no longer theirs. Questions were over with the ominous ring of Casey’s telephone. He answered it wordlessly, then put it back down on the receiver.
[color=577d06]”Showtime, Love.”[/color]

A few moments later, the elevator at the end of the hall gave its telltale ding. Voices almost instantly flooded the halls with phlegmy French tones of varying volumes. Loudest among them was clearly an old man. It was the most raspy of the bunch, perhaps torn up by years of smoking or some other condition. Familiarly, Elise’s voice was almost exactly the same in French as it was in English, so her dulcet tones could be tracked through the tonal calmness that they tried to emphasize beneath the excitement.

But the massive, lumbering figure that appeared and almost entirely encompassed the space was in the office faster than anyone could track. He was dressed in a plum purple suit with a white shirt and a cherry red tie. Long [i]long[/i] white hair was tangled up into a single braid which flung backward and out of the way as the giant wrapped Casey in its arms. Blurts of French static escaped the two men as they squeezed one another in an embrace.

Behind that, a small group made their way into the doorway.
[color=f0cd8d]”Oh, Grampie! Press not the boy into bookfold!”[/color] Elise cooed, waving a hand at Trisha.

She stepped in a little closer, and behind her was a [i]tiny[/i] woman. Not abnormally so, as five foot wasn’t exactly a crazy short height for a grown woman to be… But, surrounded by six-foot plus giants on all sides? It made her a little less [i]normal[/i], and just a little bit smaller. Having said that, she was just as regal as Lynette seemed to get. Not as crazy, however. Her dress was elegant, like one off the page of a French fashion magazine. Makeup pristine. Even her hair was still dark, though she carried the look and feeling of venerable age. It was hard to pin down if venerable was fifty, or plus another fifty…

[color=fc6603]”Non! He’s made of Iron! Like a battle tank!” [/color]

Casey grunted with effort. Trisha would be able to look to the side and watch as her to-be fiance dipped slightly and scooped up under his Grandfather’s ribs. In a single motion, he clean jerked the old man off the floor and into the air, which was received by a howl of both joy and surprise from the old man.

Elise only gave a look of exasperation to Trisha.
[color=f0cd8d]”My God… Nobody in our family can even fake being calm for five minutes for you, can they?”[/color] she asked with a laugh, holding out her hand for Trisha to shake. Normally it’d be a hug, but she was overly sensitive to the desires of others, and knew that the hug wouldn’t be wanted. Her only desire was to express a greeting with love in it. 

Inside, Trisha was panicking. Calm? [i]Relaxed[/i]? They were neither- especially not his Grandfather who barrelled into the room and grabbed Casey like he was trying to squeeze him to death. It was incredibly overwhelming. But while she didn’t have much experience with grandparents, she did have experience with [i]overwhelming[/i].

None of this panic showed on her face. From the moment it was no longer just her and Casey, a calm facade had settled across her. Fake, but polite. It wavered a little at the unexpected entrance, but easily slipped back into place. It was well practiced, after all. Casey was the only person she really couldn’t keep it up with. 

 [color=d1b300]“You seem to be managing to.”[/color] Trisha replied to Elise quietly, with a smile. There was a hint of genuinity behind the politeness as she reached out to shake her hand. It was a bit odd as a greeting, but she could guess what it was an alternative to. But having responded to Elise’s greeting meant that it was time to greet the other two. 

Trisha turned her polite smile to Casey’s Grandfather and Grandmother. Even though it felt embarrassing to do, she gave them both a shallow but neat curtsy. 
[color=d1b300]“I’m Trisha Vanburen, Casey’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you both. I hope you had an easy journey to get here.”[/color] 

The old woman’s face lit up near instantly, and like she was on a string, she curtsied as if she were on stage at a play.
[color=0377fc]”Oh, oui, so nice to see a girl still knows the Curtsy. You two, you shake hands? Zis is not friendly?”[/color]

Elise put her hands up.
[color=f0cd8d]”Oh, nothing of the sort, Nana. Trisha’s simply not the hugging type.”[/color]

[color=0377fc]”To you.”[/color] was the curt but tonally gentle reply. The woman smiled at Trisha with a mouth full of golden teeth.
[color=0377fc]”You are sweet to worry about our travel. You say, Trisha? As in Pat-risha?”[/color]

Her accent was thick, but it was hard to avoid that [i]every single tooth was individually plated gold[/i]. Or, maybe they grew that way? It was unsettling at the least. It seemed to make her mouth heavier, and there was a noticeable slur because of it. Lazy speaking…

But the old man was still clinging to Casey as he turned and looked down at Trisha.

[color=fc6603]”Non! Casey, you’ve told me so! She is [i]Trisha![/i] My love, apologize!”[/color] the massive, vaguely portly man chided his wife with a gentle prodding at her cheek. Instinctively, she puffed them out before turning back to Trisha.
[color=0377fc]”Zen it is not short? My apologies [i]Trisha![/i] I am Lady Sylvie Devearoux Richoux-Von Harken… Please, you call my name, no?”[/color]

And the giant man gave a massive chubby hand down to take hers, bringing it up and gently kissing the ring of the saint upon it.
[color=fc6603]”And you call me Grampa Max! Casey speaks of you with rose gold and diamond in his eye. And you wear the blessing of Countess Mallory, I see! Tell me, have you felt the men in your life fall in line as of late?”[/color] Max asked her very matter-of-factly.

Trisha’s smile didn’t waver even as she tried to figure out how to answer that question. What did he even mean? Was Countess Mallory some kind of past dominatrix who had all the men in her life whipped into shape? Was that her blessing? 

The answer was no, obviously. Casey had treated her well from the moment he’d met her… He did what she asked him to unless he really disagreed with it. But that hadn’t changed. The other men in her life? Well, they were lacking… The only person she’d had contact with was Ezra, and he definitely hadn’t. 

[color=d1b300]“I can’t say there’s been a noticeable difference… But maybe that’s because there aren’t many men in my life, outside of Casey.”[/color] She played it off with that same polite smile. There weren’t many people in her life at all… 
[color=d1b300]“He’s always treated me like a princess.”[/color]

Sylvie made a gentle cooing noise, looking up at Max who beamed with pride.

[color=fc6603]”[i]My[/i] son isn’t here to appreciate your compliment. So, for our family, I accept your kind words. We are so thrilled that our little Cygnet grew to be such a Swan, and that he’s a prince to his princess? Oh, c'est magnifique!”[/color]

Max was emphatic, and his massive hand plopped back down onto Casey’s shoulder with a gentle rub.

[color=fc6603]”We are [i]so[/i] proud of all you’ve done. All of it… And what you [i]will[/i] do.”[/color]

While Max’s attention mostly turned back to Casey, sparing Trisha the tale of Countess Mallory Richoux once again, Sylvie almost looked like she had something else to say. Her head turned up to Max, and a burst of French escaped her lips. With a massive smile on his face, Maxwell nodded. 

[color=0377fc]”Trisha… Would we be permitted in your home above? I’ve heard of the glass house on the building for years, but haven’t ever seen it…”[/color] Sylvie spoke gently, as if asking for the most egregious thing ever.

Trisha wasn't exactly a fan of having people in her space, but… there'd already been plenty of visitors to the open area of the house. It was easier to accept when they had their private spaces - their bedroom, even if it was somewhat visible from the main room, and the Den. Places people would only go if invited… 

Thankfully most of her mess was kept to the Den. Casey liked to keep the place pretty spotless, which had resulted in one little fight when he'd tidied up some books she'd left on the couch and she'd gotten upset when she couldn't find them… Since they'd come to a bit of an agreement that she'd at least not leave shit spread across it, and he'd leave anything she left in that room alone. It worked, and she was just glad he didn't get upset that she wasn't the tidiest person… 

But it meant most of their home was in a presentable state. It didn't stop her from feeling worried about letting them in, just that they wouldn't immediately judge it. But maybe they wouldn't even care? 

[color=d1b300]“Of course… it [I]is[/I] Casey's home too, after all."[/color] Trisha spoke as if it was the easiest thing to answer in the world, and there was no silent inner turmoil or anxiety. Casey would probably know, but that was because he knew her well at this point… But on the outside she was a pristine image of polite friendliness. She really genuinely did want to make a good impression, which to her meant acting in a very specific way. Not quite herself… 

[color=d1b300]“Any family that he wants around is always welcome. Isn't that, uh, how family works? I wouldn't quite say our home is your home, but you're welcome inside." Great job sounding like you have a normal family, Trisha.[/color].

[color=d1b300]“It might be a bit noisy up there… Hopefully that's alright?"[/color] The bees weren't particularly happy after she'd essentially banished her from the morning when they started pestering her while she was getting ready… And then was actively keeping them away from her right now since she wasn't wearing something they could easily hide in. But as soon as she went back upstairs? It would be difficult to stop some of them from swarming her. 

She'd just assumed she'd be down here until Casey's grandparents left…

[color=0377fc]”Due to the Swarm? Eh… Swarm? Flock? What eh…”[/color] Sylvie’s face turned to Elise for help.

[color=f0cd8d]”If they’re all about in a cloud, Nana. If they’re calm, or simply about their space, it’s a Colony.”[/color] Elise clarified, speaking about bees as a general fact rather than about Trisha’s specifically.

[color=0377fc]”Oui, I am… Not? Allergic?”[/color] 
It was interesting that, despite Casey claiming that his Grandparents lived in America, the woman still seemed to have trouble speaking English in a natural way. Plenty of pauses to parse out what was coming next, trying to figure out what word was supposed to go where… 

The grandfather seemed to have things under a much better control, speaking probably to his role as a socialite rather than… [i]Whatever[/i] the grandmother did. Casey had seemed to imply, in their infrequent talks about her, that she was a bit of a recluse. Not to her family, but socially. Once, Casey pretty much outright confirmed that she was some kind of pariah in her own circles. A witch with a bad habit of making things that didn’t need to be made…

[color=f0cd8d]”No, Ma’am. You’re safe. They probably wouldn’t get close to you anyway!”[/color] Elise commented, a smile crossing both womens’ faces as Sylvie lightly tapped Elise on the cheek. There was a burst of French cooing, and Elise gave an embarrassed look as the elder fussed over her for a moment.

[color=f0cd8d]”Okay, okay… Come on, now!”[/color] Elise waved her arm, as if ushering Trisha to lead the way. 


[color=d1b300]“Elise is right, they'll all be trying to get on me.”[/color] Trisha confirmed calmly. Her body tilted slightly towards Casey, wanting to grab his arm and have him lead with her… But she also didn't want to impose or risk interrupting any moment with his grandfather. So she just clasped her hands in front of her with a smile. 

[color=d1b300]“Right this way… It'll be much nicer to talk in our home, since we have a nice setup for guests."[/color] Trisha said as she led them out of Casey's office. 
[color=d1b300]“Like, actual places to sit! Not that you'd expect or want couches in an office."[/color]

She laughed lightly, being careful not to walk too fast down the corridor or outpace the group. It didn't matter so much as she went up the stairs onto the roof… the moment she was a couple of steps out of the door she immediately had to stop. 

A group of bees had been impatiently waiting in the canopies leading to their home. The thick pheromones hanging in the air hit Trisha's nose before they did. At least a couple of thousand bees descended on her in a swarm like tiny puppies left at home by their owner for hours. Normally they weren't [I]so[/I] clingy- but they could sense her nerves over the past few weeks from the constant pheromones she gave off. So, they'd been clingy. Sometimes they were more calm when they knew she was with Casey… but they had to check first. 

Since she'd told them to leave her alone so early on in the day, then made them stay upstairs, they didn't know she was under the ‘protection’ of the strange, large ‘bee’ that made her happy.

[color=d1b300]“I’m so sorry."[/color] Trisha stepped out of the way so she wasn't blocking the door as a mass of fuzzy yellow and black bodies crawled all over her. 
[color=d1b300]“Feel free to go into the house- Casey can let you in. I just need to let them check on me for a little bit."[/color]

Sylvie seemed enraptured by the swarm, staring as the thousand black and yellow bodies flooded into the space around them.

[color=0377fc]”Ahhhh… Mon dieu! We keep the Bee on the Estate, but non do they approach the groundsmen in such a fashion!”[/color]
She was sure not to interrupt them, aware as she was that they weren’t exactly normal bees. 

[color=0377fc]”You truly are le Reine! I should have made you a crown, non?”[/color]

Meanwhile, Elise was already shuffling Sylvie around the big happenings and toward the door to the house. Equally baffled by the greenhouse structure as she was by the actual tiny house sitting on top of this city building, the elder Richoux wasn’t sure of where to let her eyes rest. Trying to get the door open, Elise found it locked and bound by a haptic response spell that shunted her hand from the knob instantly.

[color=f0cd8d]”Oh, you fucker! Casey…”[/color] 
She turned to face Trisha, knowing that her grandfather had held her brother downstairs to pass off the [i]all important package[/i] that the two of them kept going on about… Meaning that he wasn’t there to let them into the magically sealed house.

[color=f0cd8d]”Trisha? Sorry… Casey didn’t come up… Can you open this? I didn’t know he went full fucking secretary of defense with this lock shit.”[/color] Elise questioned, voice shifting between slight annoyance and the measured politeness that told her to calm down.

[color=d1b300]“Oh- Oh, of course."[/color] Trisha hadn't even realised Casey didn't come up with them. She'd been concentrating too much on just leading them up there and staying calm… Knowing Casey wasn't there made the second part a bit harder. But she could do this. She'd spent years dealing with all sorts of scenarios herself. It shouldn't even be that difficult. 

Trisha moved past Elise and Sylvie towards the door, pulling out her key awkwardly as the bees crawled over her hands. Thankfully they were listening to her enough to move out of the way as she unlocked and pushed open the door. Since she was there anyway… 

She stepped inside, shuffling out of the way to let the other two in. 
[color=d1b300]“Just leave the door open, then I can have them leave when they're done."[/color] She was talking about the bees, of course, turning to Sylvie with a smile to finally acknowledge what she'd said. There was a hint of redness on her cheeks as she thought about it… 

[color=d1b300]“A crown would've been too much! But I appreciate the thought… I'm not very regal just because the bees view me that way. It's not really the same as human royalty, is it? If anything they recognise me more as… Well, a leader is the same thing. I'm like their… Mom?"[/color] Trisha rambled a little bit, bees still crawling all over her as she stood near the door of her home.

[color=0377fc]”Oui, Trisha. A Queen is simply a Mother of Nation, non?”[/color] Sylvie commented, smiling as she entered their house fully.

[color=0377fc]”Merveilleuse! Oh, and the ‘anging plants! Places for them to stay, non? Do they- Oh! Oh, so mignonne!”[/color] she continued, blurting out French exclamations as bees further descended from the hanging garden and made the approach vector toward Trisha.

For a moment, the elder woman fell into a coughing fit that Elise was quickly by her side to help with. Without asking, and remembering easily from her short visits here, Elise made way for the cabinet with the glasses, and poured water into one for Sylvie to take from. The whole glass of water tumbled down the old woman’s throat within a few seconds.

[color=0377fc]”Merci, merci… I am not eh… Breathing. Not right.”[/color]
She seemed to motion toward a chair. Rather than walking to it, the chair quickly received the signal and hobbled up to her as if it were her loyal pet. Sitting down in it, the legs began to act as her own. Now, she was riding the chair to a comfortable place where she felt she could put herself up and simply observe.

[color=0377fc]”Oh, praise be to God himself… Ten [i]fucking[/i] minutes of quiet without that man’s booming voice in my ear! Merde… Trisha? Thank you, darling. I truly lack for private moments.”[/color]
While her voice didn’t change, her mannerisms did. Just enough to mark a difference between totally polite Sylvie, and a Sylvie who felt comfortable.

[color=0377fc]”Do you keep alcohol in this house? Does Casey still drink Soviet battery juice?”[/color]

Trisha wasn't entirely sure what she meant by Soviet battery juice. They drank together occasionally, but it hadn't really been frequent… mostly wine and beer. She didn't remember seeing anything strong enough to be considered battery juice. Or was it just something shit?

The change was also strange to her. Was Sylvie more comfortable without her husband around? How did that make sense? Of course, Trisha appreciated having moments to herself now and then… Alone. When she was around other people she generally preferred Casey was there too. Maybe it was because she didn't have the same kind of family, she'd never want to be with them by herself… But she wasn't family to them yet, was she? She was practically a stranger.

[color=d1b300]“No need to thank me- And we have a few bottles of wine, and some beer in the fridge. What would you like?"[/color] Trisha gestured towards where both were kept, glancing towards Elise apologetically. With all the bees inside the house joining those that had been outside, she was basically half bee at this point. She was constantly comforting them with her pheromones, but they were still clingy. Maybe it was the strangers in her home? 

[color=d1b300]“I haven't seen any Soviet battery juice! He probably keeps that in the fridge down in his office."[/color] She laughed, moving further into the house while keeping the door ajar behind her. 
[color=d1b300]“Do you want anything to eat? We have some chopped up fruit, if you'd like? We have other snacks too."[/color]

As if sensing what she was talking about, the bees on her started buzzing a bit louder. The fruit wasn't even going to be for them… 
[color=d1b300]“Sorry! Not exactly quiet when they're involved…"[/color]

[color=0377fc]”If it is cold, Blanc would be preferred, Trisha. Cold rouge is…-”[/color] Sylvie made a face that screamed disgust. Her whole mouth curled so that she could bare her teeth at the very thought of such sacrilege.
.[color=f0cd8d]”Oh, certainly for the best, Nana… You don’t need Vodka this early in the day.”[/color] Elise intoned, making way for the wine glasses and finding that one was already hot stepping out of its spot in the cabinet.

The glass flung itself off the perch high above, hitting the counter with a loud glassy [i]thunk[/i]. Meanwhile, the fridge door was already opening, and as lively as it’s friend the glass, a bottle of white wine rolled its cylindrical existence out and across the floor. Closer and closer to Nana Sylvie, until she had both objects in her hands and was pouring herself a drink.

[color=f0cd8d]”Nana!!! This isn’t your home to do as you please in!”[/color] Elise barked, a shocked look plastered on her face as she watched her grandmother enact her usual comfort routines.

[color=0377fc]”Non, but Trisha has said! It is hers, and it is Caseau’s! If it were not hers and his, then I would not be so comfortable! But, Casey would say yes, non?”[/color] she asked fairly innocently as she tucked back into her glass. Instinctively, the bottle was already rolling back toward Elise to be picked up.

[color=0377fc]”Besides, I would not have one do what I can on my own. I am old, but not crippled!”[/color]


Trisha froze as the scene unfolded in front of her. She hadn't been upset when Sylvie used magic on the chair, since she assumed the extra walk would be too difficult for her. She was older, she'd only look rude if she kicked up a fuss about something like that. But using magic so much, when Elise had been ready to get it? When Trisha was already edging her way towards the kitchen. 

It was difficult not to flinch at the sound of glass hitting the counter and thankfully not shattering. A simple command had most of the bees finally flying off her and back into the hanging plants. They took her increased agitation as a sign [I]something[/I] might happen, and obeyed her as if they were about to fight… little beady eyes staring down from above. A fight that wasn't going to come, but it was far easier for her to have only a few still crawling around her.

She moved again as the bottle was rolling back towards Elise, bending down to scoop it up herself. Her feet quickly brought her into the kitchen area, hiding her shaking hands while she continued to smile. 

Was it alright in her house? No! No it wasn't! Trisha's discomfort with magic for things that didn't require it hadn't lessened, nevermind when it involved a glass and bottle flying across her living room. She wanted to say that. It was so difficult to keep up the polite, reasonable mask instead of snapping or freaking out. Someone else treating her home like it was theirs…

But Casey would say yes.

[color=d1b300]“It’s alright, Elise, I'm fine with it. It's not an issue."[/color] She said with a well faked cheerfulness. 
[color=d1b300]“I want… Sylvie to be comfortable in my- our- home. You too- since you're Casey's family."[/color]

After making sure her serene, totally alright smile was seen, Trisha turned around to crouch in front of the fridge. She put the white wine bottle back inside, before pulling out a beer for herself and a plate with pre-prepared cut fruit. She tilted her head up towards Elise, still the external picture of calmness. 

[color=d1b300]“Do you want anything? We have soda cans too."[/color] But there was tension in her shoulders and her slightly balled up posture, her eyes looking past rather than directly at Elise. Easy to recognise if you knew what to look for.

[color=f0cd8d]”While I understand your need for independence, you simply must respect our wishes, Nana. You did not grow so old to become an inconsiderate Crone, did you?”[/color] Elise asked with a very stern tone, holding up a single finger to Trisha in hopes that she wouldn’t take the moment’s pause as an insult. 

But it simply wasn’t alright. Too many times now, had the poor woman been subject to a terrible first impression. The boorish nature of her magical clusterfuck of a family only turned her more and more into a shriveled up husk who was begging to be released from all the formality and strange hoops necessary to communicate from Richoux to Richoux. Her siblings had done a fantastic job breaking that barrier, and not carrying on with the same imperceptibly foolish nature save for a single exception. They could [i]talk[/i] and tell one another things. Hopefully even respect one another's boundaries!

[color=f0cd8d]”Because, I’m sure Casey would want you to be comfortable… But he simply would’ve brought you the wine, Nana. Your personal agency can be expressed through your words and subtle actions, can it not?”[/color]

Sylvie’s face and body did not [i]look[/i] terribly old. Again, she could very well have been mistaken for the Richoux Mother, rather than the grandmother. Yet, there was still this sense of elderly nature about her. Maybe in the way she looked, or the faces she made. The softness. She was [i]rounder[/i] than the Western Richouxs, with a soft ovaline face that carried few wrinkles. Crows' feet pitted the sides of her eyes where they scrunched together during a smile, showing that she was at least consistently happy… Or consistently smiling, at the very least. 

Even now, she smiled from Elise to Trisha, then back. 

[color=0377fc]”She has said it was fine, non? You make trouble where it doesn’t live?”[/color] she asked very simply, letting her gaze pass back to Trisha.
[color=0377fc]”Unless you lie? For comfort? I am not uncomfortable, Trisha… You shouldn’t be either.”[/color] 

That question caused Trisha enough panic that it was difficult to maintain the illusion. Her eyes widened as she straightened up, lips trembling as her own smile wavered. Dregs of anxiety pulled up to the surface before being pushed right back down. 

How on earth could she answer in a way that would keep everyone happy? That didn't involve telling the truth. [I]'Yes I lied, because I'm an anxious mess who's worried if I upset you it'll upset Casey and he'll leave me. Please support me dating your grandson.’[/I] And then, she'd have to deal with Sylvie getting upset at her for lying… because they always were. 

But hadn't Elise already figured it out? Why else would she be pushing the point like that when it wasn't her own home? If Trisha lied again, wouldn't Elise think badly of her? And then, if Sylvie found out later she'd kept lying? But the truth meant dipping into her insecurities when she wanted to come across as someone who was well put together and perfectly content with her boyfriend's family in their shared home.

[color=d1b300]“Oh, no, I wouldn't lie, and I'm not uncomfortable at all!"[/color] Trisha pushed out another lie, even looking a little like a deer caught in the headlights. 
[color=d1b300]“Well, I would have appreciated you asking first? You said Casey would say yes… but that implies you would've asked first? I'm not as used to everyday magic use as you all are, so the heads up would've been nice." Great redirection.[/color]

[color=0377fc]”Ahhhh… You are not from Magic, non? Caseau tells me your Queen is the only magic in the Family… I should have known, you may be nervous that I am to be breaking your good glass! Alas, non! I could bounce your ‘ome off of the ground from space, and keep every plant starch still. But, Caseau is not ‘ere to explain this. So, I can only apologize for this…-”[/color]

And then the little old woman’s face scrunched up into a wry smile. 

[color=0377fc]”-’Owever… I cannot help myself from noticing this separation between your words and their meanings? You say that there is no discomfort, yet… You ask me to warn you? One is not warned about things they don’t care about, non? That would lack in any logic.”[/color]

This young woman didn’t need to know much else… No, she wouldn’t have asked, because in Sylvie’s mind, Casey simply would’ve explained and excused her behavior. However, that implied that Trisha’s addition into the mixture didn’t change these little dynamics. The sort of thing a grandparent with such closeness to the grandchild at hand had to deal with mentally as that grandchild slowly but surely left the nest…
Would he have this time? One couldn’t know for sure. He wasn’t here. Only they were.

Elise cleared her throat, shaking her head.
[color=f0cd8d]”Oh boy… Detective Sylvie Columbo… Nana, listen, you’ve already imposed yourself by coming up here. Whether you just wanted to get away from Puppa, or if you were just curious to meet Trisha, I have no idea… But you’re acting a little like my Mom right now, and regardless of anything else, I know for a [i]fact[/i] that Mom makes Trisha uncomfortable. So, if we could drop the interrogations on her feelings? I think it’d be the polite and civil thing to do.”[/color]

Sylvie looked immediately hurt, and rattled off a pained burst of French with the most pathetic expression shifting across her face. And she stood, the glass of wine spinning gently in her hand.

Trisha really wished that Casey was here. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with all of this by herself. She probably wouldn’t have to deal with it at all because he’d be there to. 


What did she do? She appreciated Elise stepping in, because the questions did make her uncomfortable. It [i]was[/i] a bit like Lynette. Really, the main difference was that Sylvie had to ask, and it wasn’t so manipulative… But Trisha didn’t like these things being pointed out. People knowing things without her deciding to share them… which she rarely did. 

But right now, it looked like Sylvie was going to leave. She couldn’t be sure because she didn’t understand French… but wasn’t that the worst case? 

She’d go downstairs, and Casey and his grandfather would ask why. Then the story of how Trisha lied and was uncomfortable with simple actions would come out… maybe about her and Elise joining forces to make an old lady uncomfortable. Then, how would Casey react? Badly, of course. Why would he choose her over the grandmother who’d loved him when almost everyone had neglected him? 

He wouldn’t… So she couldn’t just leave… 

A hint of acrid citrus scent curled into the air. Genuine panic that this might destroy everything expressed as weak, unintentionally given off pheromones that Elise would recognise, even if they couldn't get through Emotional Fields.

[color=d1b300]“It’s not an imposition at all! You asked, and [i]I[/i] invited you up.”[/color] Trisha emphasised that it had been her choice to Sylvie. Like it hadn’t been because she felt she had to. But she’d pretend it was all perfectly fine until she couldn’t- until the panic was pushed much, much further. Beyond the point where it just fueled her strange ‘survival’ instincts.
[color=d1b300]“But thank you for being concerned about my comfort, Elise.”[/color]

She turned towards Elise, trying to portray the apology underneath the words that she felt was equal to the thanks. She hoped that she’d be able to read it and understand. She didn’t want Elise upset either… But her judgement in the moment was that Elise was the more reasonable of the two. Less of a risk. 

[color=d1b300]“My early exposure to magic wasn’t positive. There was a lot of fighting involved. I still sometimes find magic use without warning unsettling. That doesn’t mean I’m uncomfortable. It’s just a momentary shock.”[/color] In her panicked desperation to save the situation, Trisha managed to pull out a much smoother lie. She needed to keep them both happy… She needed to keep Casey’s grandmother happy. Because she was so important to him.

[color=d1b300]“It really isn’t a problem. It’s normal to want to know more about your grandson’s girlfriend…”[/color]

[color=0377fc]”Ah, oui… The Eden Serpent. Blessed are the Cherub, who under the light slew that which destroyed Paradise. I should have remembered! That you would be jumpy… And no less, with the wretched [i]Chat de L’enfer[/i] whose litter stinks beneath this building.”[/color] Sylvie continued on, as if so nonchalant that the Stygian Snake was something that Trisha had a hand in killing.

But the apology was not lost on the target, who gave just the slightest smirk off the corner of her mouth and sent it traveling back to Trisha on a personal trajectory. If ever there was a more solid “I’ve got your back”, Trisha may not have recognized it… But this was a solid and square smack in the face.

[color=f0cd8d]”Are you sure that’s not Puppa’s Depends, Nana?”[/color] Elise fired off in a snippy but sarcastic fashion.

In turn, Sylvie gave an uproarious laugh followed by mocked sniffing at the air.
[color=0377fc]”Oh, so that is what I smelled on the car ride here. I could have sworn it was Diable’s carrion pellets.”[/color] she joked, looking back at Trisha.

[color=0377fc]”Regardless! I am no dumb woman. I raised [i]thirteen[/i] children, after all. That, meaning that I am adept at escaping poor decisions! As if I don’t imagine all these things you say to me, or the subtle way I felt you grip tightly to the wine bottle when you picked it up…-”[/color]

Her eyes had an elderly knowingness about them. The same thing as that elder lady from the Aberration Night… Miss Tamara… It must’ve been the age combined with the magic, something in their brains being able to lock in on [i]some kind of vibe[/i] that Trisha was giving off without even thinking. Something that gave them just a glimpse behind Trisha’s mask. 

At least this one seemed to get a peek and wanted to back the fuck off… Seemingly.

[color=0377fc]”I’m sorry. For being thoughtless, young Lady. You are right: I would like to get to know you. But, on your terms. Nothing is worse, they say, than a kiss from a woman who doesn’t want it. I would not demand that kiss.”[/color]

That knowing gaze, the slight shift in candor from somewhat ditzy to fully locked in… It was all a bit too familiar.


It was difficult for Trisha to feel relief with Sylvie looking at her like [I]that[/I]. Like she could see through the protective layers Trisha had built up… she knew what was beneath, somehow. It was uncomfortable, but that she backed off was enough for Trisha to calm down somewhat. Enough that the light citrus scent in the air around her started to dissipate. 

But she wasn't any less cautious. Not when she could feel the similarities with Lynette. Like Sylvie knew things she shouldn't. Had been testing her, maybe? She didn't know. It only made her more careful about how she acted. 

[color=d1b300]“I appreciate the apology, and accept it."[/color] Trisha gave a measured smile.
[color=d1b300]“I wasn't trying to treat you like you were dumb, I just don't like to make a big deal out of minor issues."[/color] 

She did when she cared less about someone's opinion… And normally people couldn't see beneath the surface like that. They heard what they wanted to, and didn't even consider the anxiety they might be causing. Not unless they experienced it themselves or were especially perceptive… 

[color=d1b300]“Why don't we start from the basics? That makes sense, right?"[/color] She took a moment to separate the cut fruit she'd pulled out onto two plates. One was left on the end of the kitchen island, the other brought over to the seating area along with the beer she'd grabbed for herself. She put the fruit down on the small coffee table nearby, before neatly taking a seat on one of the couches. 

After a moment, a group of bees descended on the fruit she'd left on the island. It was impossible to have fruit around them without giving them their share… 

[color=d1b300]“Though, Casey's probably told you most of that? If you know about the Stygian Snake, even…"[/color] She was clearly, actively trying to reset the conversation. To move past from interrogation of emotions to the more simple things. There was a moment where she just considered actually going through the basics like she was in an interview. Hobbies, university, family… but what would Casey's Grandmother actually be interested in knowing? 

[color=d1b300]“You mentioned earlier that he said my Apparition is the only magic in the family… that's not quite true.“[/color] It seemed a safe bet for a topic. 
[color=d1b300]“It’s not the same as Adeptal families, but my dad was magic… Sort of? He was an artifact collector and user. That's how I met the Queen… He had the object she was sealed in. I was just being a rebellious teenager, and ended up with a bee hive."[/color]

She laughed lightly, hand reaching up to gently move a bee that was close to tumbling into her beer bottle. 
[color=d1b300]“Not that I talked to [I]him[/I] about it. After he died- and the Snake-, I found out that he spent his early adulthood travelling through different worlds… [I]And[/I] that a few of my sisters had magic too. It's like… If you all had the magic you do now, but didn't know the rest of your family did. You thought you were the only one. That's how magic is in my family! I know it's not possible in a traditional Adept family but it maybe… explains my perspective on magic a bit? I basically got a crash course in it from a Ghost, then a year later fought a multiversal threat [I]and[/i] found out my sisters also had magic."[/color]

And saw her dad get killed… but that wasn't a part of the story she wanted to bring up. The seeming honesty was a bit of a switch from the Trisha that had been immediately withdrawing and rebuffing… But it was a surface level topic. It wasn't really about her, and it missed out the imperfect details. The various half-siblings allowing for some to be Adepts when she wasn't, what had actually pushed her to knock over that Artifact, the neglect from James that had led to so little communication… There was a hope that the Grandparents wouldn't [I]know[/I] about her family. They weren't from the city, after all.

Oh, the beginning. Sylvie Felt she was getting too old for new beginnings. She couldn't do another comic book repeat in her life… Things got rebooted, updated, then sold back as if they weren't the same thing. She'd met the woman standing in front of her before. Not directly, but the perceived [i]type.[/i] 

But at least Casey's instructions from earlier on made sense. The old woman easily recalled the conversation, and the accompanying feeling of confusion. He spent almost an hour going over her, how she was, what Sylvie was to expect…

Just to act like he hadn't painted her into a saint over the phone? To instruct her that she shouldn't mention a damn thing? It made zero sense until this moment, when the two women were sat across from one another.

[color=0377fc]”Caseau gushed about you. He said much, and then begged that I forget before visiting. Imagine? He says you are wonderful, and kind. Passionate but gentle. He tells me many things, then says ‘Oh, Nana, you must not mention that I said this!’ And I think why, why does he wish me to do this?”[/color]

Sylvie let a hand climb upward into a shrug before seeming to slap the though away in a calm and measured fashion.

[color=0377fc]”Because you want the basics. Oui. Richoux is not a family of ‘basics’. Fundamentals get in between ambition and application. Our family strives for the top. Tell me, you wish to struggle with him? Whatever you both plan, together? I have been with Maxwell almost sixty years! Will you walk with my Caseau on legs of iron, with a heart of whipped cream? Can you go the distance, Trisha? I need no other knowledge than your dedication to the man. Because I promise you, young Trisha… Caseau's rare expression of tenderness is not wasted on my eyes. I see how he loves you, dear… You love him too? So soon?”[/color]

It was hard to make it sound like anything but an interrogation… But in her head it wasn't. It was just an explanation. She hoped that the simplicity of the required information, the fact that it all had to do with a focus on her beloved Autumn Blossom… She didn't pitch her tone at all, remaining steady and matter of factual.

A detail that seemingly prevented Elise from making another defence. In truth, she wasn't sure what Trisha's reaction would be.

Trisha’s eyes narrowed slightly, a low buzzing coming from the few bees still on her. Wanted to get to know her on her terms? That was a lie. She already knew everything… But did that give her the right to judge her? To assume she didn’t fit in because she wanted to start with the basics- she wanted people to actually fucking get to know her. 

At least she got the rose tinted version from Casey. A picture of herself that Trisha struggled to accept. Wonderful, kind, passionate, gentle… Eventually she’d fall short of that. Was it any wonder Sylvie was questioning her, now that she thought about it? This perfect woman who’d stepped into her beloved grandson’s life. All the questions were focused on [i]him[/i].

It was only natural for his family to be concerned.

Not that Trisha would know what that was like. 

It didn’t make her feel any less tense or defensive. It was still her getting questioned. Her feelings for Casey… Something that seemed to be questioned over and over again. Was it because of their assumptions of her? That she wasn’t strong enough? That someone like her, a ‘sheltered’ rich girl, couldn’t love him? Would leave him? 

Fuck that. If there was one thing she was confident in, it was the depth of her own feelings for Casey. 
[color=d1b300]“I do love him.”[/color] The polite smile dropped as Trisha stared at Sylvie with deadly seriousness. 

[color=d1b300]“I’ve already struggled with him. And I’ve struggled my whole life [i]without[/i] him. Casey makes everything worth it. I’ve already killed for him- for us. If that doesn’t prove my dedication, what does?”[/color] Strong determination shone in her eyes. 
[color=d1b300]“I love him enough to do that. And I’ll keep loving him until I die.”[/color]

Sylvie's face was nearly consumed by an animalistic grin of wide-eyed rapture. It had progressed as Trisha spoke with further intensity, until there was nothing left to say. Slowly, surely, she put her person face back on and slumped back in the chair. Still, a wry smile remained.

[color=0377fc]”Then you will be in our lives. So… You are Trisha. Not [i]Patricia[/i]. You are close to his age? And have you lived in this city your whole life? Are you at all related to the Hunter family? Lynette's [i]breed[/i]?”[/color]

Elise's expression was one agape at the mouth. Her jaw threatened to hit the floor. she simply couldn't believe her family's audacity. It felt like everyone around her wanted this little lynchpin to fail? Or, at least be put under tremendous back-room strain. The kind of strain that snapped relationships.

Snapped [i]her[/i] relationship. The anxiety was bubbling. And when the line of questioning implied that Trisha was somehow related to them, she couldn't handle it.

[color=f0cd8d]”Surely you can't be serious Nana?”[/color]

The old woman scoffed, letting French leak from her throat before clearing it and leaning in.

[color=0377fc]”What I ask is… Your feelings toward the Witch. The Pale Beast. Does she strike you as evil?”[/color] Sylvie asked in a terribly conspiratorial way.

Evil wasn’t quite the word Trisha would use to describe Lynette. Evil didn’t love… Evil was like the Stygian Snake. Lynette was fucked up and horrible, but probably not pure evil. 

[color=d1b300]“She’s certainly tried her best to make my life difficult this last week.”[/color] She answered surprisingly calmly for someone asked if she was related to her boyfriend. That question was insane. Of course she wasn’t. But as irritating as it was, she understood where it came from. 

Because Lynette wanted her children with people she could control. 

[color=d1b300]“I don’t like Lynette. She’s a horrible, controlling and manipulative woman… Who I’m [i]not[/i] related to. So my feelings are negative. She’s hurt Casey- now and in the past- and she’s hurt me.”[/color] She continued without quite answering the question… How did she answer whether Lynette struck her as evil without getting into a philosophical debate she didn’t want to? 

[color=d1b300]“I’m not someone on her side or under her thumb. If anything, I hate her for everything she’s done to Casey.”[/color]

[color=f0cd8d]”So, maybe you can spare her the bloody details? Maybe actually try and get to know someone special in Casey’s life? Remember, Nana… [i]You aren’t his Mother.[/i] You can be as protective as you want, but-”[/color] 

Elise was interrupted by the passive dismissal of Sylvie’s hand coming up and waving it off.

[color=0377fc]”What the fuck, eh? You tell me you kill her, now I cannot express joy. He tells me the girl is wonderful, I cannot express joy. Must I be so curt and crass?”[/color] 
Patting her thighs in frustration, Sylvie shot up.

[color=0377fc]”My language is too…-”[/color] she made a motion with her hands, forming a cloud as if suggesting that how she was talking was simply bloated.
[color=0377fc]”-Like this is the bush? And I talk outside? Fuck it!”[/color]

She pointed at Trisha.
[color=0377fc]”I don’t need to know you. I like you. Casey likes you, so I do. [i]This is enough for me.[/i] But… I don’t, eh… Talking is Maxwell’s business. I come, I try to be polite, and I fail. Admittedly. I ask you, Trisha, would it have been better had I not asked at all? I-”[/color] 

There was some motion outside. Casey came through the roof entry. So did Big Max. It wasn’t hard to see where the apple fell from, and one could imagine Casey in another forty years with an equally big, fluffy white beard and pudgy external frame. The two of them looked equally excited and in good spirits…

Trisha’s head turned around to glance through the glass, one hand raising to wave at Casey with a smile. But immediately she turned back to Sylvie. She didn’t want to leave a question unanswered like that… even if she wasn’t entirely sure what shouldn’t have been asked. The first question that started this all? The last?

[color=d1b300]“No, I’d rather you ask than make assumptions. I just don’t enjoy questions that feel pointed…”[/color] She shrugged one shoulder, hint of a smile still on her lips. 
[color=d1b300]“I’d rather curt than fake niceties… But I would like you to get to know me. Isn’t it fair that I’d want my boyfriend’s beloved grandmother to know me beyond just liking me for making him happy?”[/color]

Still standing, Sylvie took a deep breath.
[color=0377fc]”Then you will come to know me. Elise? We are not leaving until this ugly business is settled.-”[/color]

She didn’t look at her Granddaughter, but Elise’s face instantly became a melted bowl of ice cream. Every single bit of energy and color sloughed away in the blink of an eye, leaving only a pained expression of frustration behind. But, Sylvie didn’t take her eyes off Trisha.

[color=0377fc]”-Our property in this cold, wet fjord is situated on la laurier, where you would expect children of Glaz. Casey will gladly take you; but I expect to see you. We will work together. You will use your hands. And we will grow close… Oui?”[/color] Sylvie spoke calmly, stepping forward and imitating what she’d seen prior: She offered her hand. 

This close, she smelled like a mineral spring… Sulfur mixed with hot steam, but an underlying sweetness that removed any of the negative response brought about by the former.

[color=d1b300]“Ah-”[/color] Trisha stood back up too, feeling it was rude to take the handshake while sitting down. 
[color=d1b300]“Oui… Maybe you can teach me some French.”[/color]

Over Sylvie’s head, Trisha shot Elise another apologetic glance. She didn’t seem particularly happy her Grandmother was staying, and it seemed like it was Trisha’s fault that was happening…

The old woman made a somewhat disgusted face.
[color=0377fc]”Some days I wish I could forget my tongue! This accent… But, the Pink? You mustn’t let it in to fix what cannot be fixed! Surely you know this!”[/color]

Elise’s face caught enough wind, and her perception of expression was so in tune, that she managed to at least [i]attempt[/i] to ward off Trisha’s sense. The eyebrows, the eyes themselves as deep wells… The way her pupils dilated suggested the guilt. As if it were her fault? But, for good measure-

[color=f0cd8d]”And, Nana… Trisha [i]does[/i] know about the uh… [i]Ugly Business[/i], you called it?”[/color]

There was a sparkle in Sylvie’s eyes.

[color=0377fc]”Ah? Oui, then… Until the babies are free, and the cancer is cut? Maxwell and I will remain here. Only a few miles away. And more will come through, until our sweet children have Emancipation. This is freedom, and for your cart too, Trisha. You have an interest in this dirty job.”[/color]
She turned Trisha’s hand in hers, patting the top of it.

[color=0377fc]”We will discuss this. And so much more.”[/color]

On queue, the door opened. Of course, it wasn’t hard to time, with Max’s voice being so goddamn loud and all. He just couldn’t keep an indoor voice.

[color=fc6603]”A whole greenhouse on this roof, yet you keep so many plants in this room? Truly, you are a strange duo!”[/color] Max expressed, arms rising upward as he entered the door to the main part of the house.

[color=577d06]”Well, look! When you pull those curtains all the way up? We’re facing North/South, so the sun hits the whole face of the house all day!”[/color] 
Casey had returned Trisha’s wave casually, but now he was clearly intent on being back by her side. 

Of course, he was not only polite enough, but actually [i]excited enough[/i] to give not only his Grandmother a hug on the way, but Elise too. There was only one person in the room who didn’t know there was an arrangement, so she was the only one fussing over his childlike affection.

[color=f0cd8d]”Oh, God… You smell like Vodka! See, Nana? Trisha was right! It’s downstairs in his office…”[/color]

Casey laughed.
[color=577d06]”We had to toast [i]something[/i]!”[/color]

Finally, he was around her again. Casey’s arms snaked down around Trisha’s belly, tugging her close until she was pressed with her back tight against his front. Bending slightly, he planted a kiss on her cheek.
[color=577d06]”And I missed you… Getting along with Grandma okay?”[/color]

Elise didn’t give her the chance.
[color=f0cd8d]”Our family is a clusterfuck, Casey. I don’t think we’re ever going to find someone to make a good first impression…”[/color] she replied sarcastically. 

Casey’s only response was to shoot a look of questioning between Trisha and Sylvie. The latter only laughed in response.

[color=0377fc]”First impressions are not everything! Trisha?”[/color] she let the question trail leadingly.


With Casey back, and his arms wrapped around her, Trisha was much more relaxed. Her body went lax as she leaned back against him, her hands coming up to rest over his. 

[color=d1b300]“We had a bit of a… stumble, but we talked it through, so yeah… getting along fine.”[/color] She gave him a bit more of an answer, tilting her head back to look up at him with a smile. Then her gaze went back to Sylvie and Elise with a bit of amusement. 
[color=d1b300]“If first impressions were the most important, I’d absolutely [i]hate[/i] Leon… So it’s true, they aren’t everything.”[/color]

Not that her and Leon got on amazingly well, and she probably wouldn’t have given him a chance if it weren’t for Casey… But that just meant she loved Casey enough to be willing to change. 
[color=d1b300]“Besides, my family doesn’t do good first impressions either. Or second. My oldest sister tried to flirt with Casey, then pretended to forget his name the second time.”[/color]

Shaking his head, Casey’s eyes met his Grandmother’s, then trailed up to Elise. The instantaneous transmission of experience created a gentle wave of motion that two Grandmasters could feel on the crest of their emotional fields. This little white problem had been in their lives entirely… Making secrets both impossible to keep, but impossible to unearth.

It only frustrated Sylvie that they could be [i]lying[/i]. About it all. If she had to wriggle her way into this periphery’s life to gleam what was necessary, she would. And she would kill the Witch no matter what… The floodgates were, after all, open. Blasphemy was on the menu.

But, in Casey’s immediate perception, it was just more of the same presumptive bullshit that had come before. It was just surprising that the source this time was one he would’ve least expected. Still, he couldn’t let Trisha feel like he knew too much. The true duality of White Lux Adepts…

[color=577d06]”Well, that’s more than you had to say about Mom’s first impression. That’s nice to hear.”[/color]

Sylvie smiled up at him.
[color=0377fc]”Oui, is it not? Trisha has agreed to come to la laurier… I will take her into the workshop, she will have her hands on metal and jewels, and her tongue will learn our special words…”[/color] she beamed like a proud mother all over again.

Casey looked down at Trisha, raising his eyebrows. Of course, he had the perfect memory of what had actually been said…
[color=577d06]”Is this… Something you agreed to willingly?”[/color] he asked her, avoiding accusation while encouraging careful consideration.


It… Wasn’t exactly? While Trisha [i]had[/i] said she wanted Sylvie to get to know her, and vice versa, she didn’t expect it to include frequent visits in the near future. She [i]did[/i] want to learn French, and she wasn’t too bothered about the whole going into the workshop thing… But it would be time away from Casey. Time with a stranger she wasn’t comfortable with. And she already had more bees to make, her business, the current bees… 

Even though Casey was asking so carefully, it was difficult to answer. Say no, upset Sylvie. Say yes, he could probably tell she wasn’t entirely being truthful. Between the White lux and his general ability to read her…

[color=d1b300]“As long as it doesn’t affect [i]our[/i] time or my various bee businesses… Yes. Mostly. I’d like to learn French, and I don’t really mind working with my hands? The bees might get a bit upset, but what's a day every week or two?”[/color] Trisha’s head tilted back so she could properly look up at him again. There was a flicker of confusion in her gaze. Why did he seem concerned? Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

[color=d1b300]“Don’t you want me to get along better with your Grandmother?”[/color] She asked a bit more quietly, though it wasn’t exactly a large enough space to matter.

[color=577d06]”I think I want you to do what you want to do… If you met her and you didn’t like her, we’d come to a polite understanding.”[/color] he smiled down at her, then back up to Sylvie. 

Big Max had his hand on the top of her head, and his thumb gently rubbed the much shorter woman’s temple with tender care. The same kind of care that Trisha would probably recognize. She hadn’t exactly seen Leon act this way, but between the two men present, it seemed to be a common action. The physical comfort…

[color=fc6603]”Ah, Trisha… One thing you [i]must[/i] realize! My sweet Sylvie? Utterly unlikable.”[/color]

The grin crossed his face, peeling the moustache and beard back to reveal another familiar sight… Full black gums, and practically pearlescent white teeth. Sylvie tossed her arms up, grabbing Max’s hand and slapping the top of it playfully.

[color=0377fc]”Putan! I am not~”[/color]

Max laughed. Casey laughed. Elise rolled her eyes.

[color=f0cd8d]”There’s truth to every joke, Nana… They call you the Dwarf Queen for a reason.”[/color]

Sylvie scoffed.
[color=0377fc]”A vulgar nickname aimed at my height.”[/color]

[color=fc6603]”Truly… If it were accurate, she’d be the Hungry Mimic!”[/color] Max barked out, another laugh rolling from inside his chest.

Sylvie started to blush, and quickly covered her face.
[color=0377fc]”Maxwell… Was the package handed off?”[/color]

[color=fc6603]”Drinks have been drunk, non? Why? Are you socially drained?”[/color] Max asked gently, leaning down to her.

Trisha watched with a slight smile, and a hint of curiosity in her gaze. Was that what her and Casey would be like in the future? She hoped so. She hoped he kept loving her as much even forty or more years from now… That they’d only grow closer and more comfortable as they got older. 

[color=d1b300]“Please don’t feel any pressure to stay. At least, not on my behalf.”[/color] It wasn’t so much self blame she was feeling as understanding in that moment. She was the ‘outsider’... or the pressuring component socially. Perhaps. At least, she assumed people would be comfortable spending prolonged periods of time with close family… 

It was difficult to know. Her eyes looked up at Casey with a teasing smile. 
[color=d1b300]“Thanks to that drink I now know exactly where Casey keeps the stronger stuff… Thought you could hide it from me, hm?”[/color]

He only grinned at her warmly. Alcohol had never been his escape, so the little joke didn’t get under his skin at all. Max laughed loudly, pointing his free hand up at Casey.

 [color=fc6603]”Oh, not another! Nothing gets by this one, Caseau… Come on, Elise! We need to get your grandmother home and under a pile of treasure before she overheats.”[/color] he laughed again. 

It was hard to see the big jolly man as anything other than a Santa Claus impersonator… But due to the scarcity of their interactions, it seemed as though that may never change. Elise took a long, deep breath, then made way toward the door. Sylvie looked at Trisha one last time, then nodded her head.

[color=0377fc]”We will see more of each other. Be sure. And thank you for your hospitality… We will seek joy together soon.”[/color]

As she turned, Max gave one last grin and wave.
[color=fc6603]”Until then, Trisha! Bye bye!”[/color] 
The elders shuffled out of the door and onto the roof. Elise remained for a few more seconds, looking at Trisha and Casey.

[color=f0cd8d]”Fucking old people, huh?”[/color]
A grin finally peeled across her face, and she shook her head before waving them off.
[color=f0cd8d]”Don’t forget the schedule… Trisha, if you wanted, you can meet some friendly faces at the venue while we’re doing the Mass. Just text me for details.”[/color]

And then she was gone too, the three figures trudging across the roof before disappearing into the building’s waiting maw. Casey just held Trisha there calmly, almost melting into her.

[color=577d06]”We got dressed for [i]nothing.[/i] I swear, he asked me why I would have slacks on in my own home. Can you believe it?”[/color] he asked, shaking his head.
[color=577d06]”She’s right… Fuckin’ old people, dude…”[/color]	

Trisha laughed, twisting around in her arms until she was facing him without sacrificing any closeness in the moment. Her arms wriggled under his to hug him back, her face rubbing into his chest before tilting up to smile at him. 

[color=d1b300]“Well it’s not for [i]nothing[/i]. I don’t get to see you all dressed up very often.”[/color] She let out a long exhale, finally properly relaxing. She didn’t know who Elise meant when she said friendly faces, but she’d think about that later. Right now she really didn’t want to think about tomorrow at all… She just wanted to skip it all. Well, maybe not [i]all[/i] of it.

[color=d1b300]“You said they’d be formal but relaxed… They were neither of those things.”[/color] Trisha jokingly pouted up at him.
[color=d1b300]“Your Grandmother threw a glass across our kitchen with magic… Please tell me you won’t be doing that when you’re that age? I don’t think I’ll be able to take it.”[/color]

Casey actually laughed aloud.
[color=577d06]”I guess I should’ve assumed she was going to go touching all my stuff. Uh… Y’wanna see something interesting?”[/color] he asked, raising his eyebrows.

[color=577d06]”Bet y’didn’t notice she’s blind? Not like no magic, but like her eyes don’t work. She can’t see a hand in front of her face. So, she uses Orange Lux to feel everything.”[/color]

Walking toward some of the other furniture, Casey pulled her close to a shelf that had been tucked tightly to the wall it was next to. However, where there had only been a small gap, there was about an inch between the wall and the shelf.

[color=577d06]”See? She kind of like… Deciphers objects from structures, down to like singular floor boards or tiles I’m pretty sure. From that, she can move and command just about any inanimate object. And change it too; like the glass. I can even feel which one it was, because there’s so much Lux around it.”[/color]

He pointed at the glass, then moved to pick it up. Twirling it in his hand, he held it up daintily.
[color=577d06]”Yeah… Watch, but don’t be scared.”[/color]

He reeled back, massive fist curling around the glass with white-knuckled force. Then, his arm surged forward, releasing the glass only to watch it catch air like a sheet of paper. It hitched, swung, then drifted to the floor with a gentle thunk. Then, he pulled a [i]fucking gun[/i] from his waistband. The shot went off, but it was so quiet and calm that it seemed like a toy. The bullet, however, smacked squarely against the glass, ricocheting into the nearby air until it also weightlessly drifted to the ground.

The gun went back into his waist just as fast as it came out. He grinned.
[color=577d06]”She’s uh… We’d call her a Class S. Grandmaster. I could only hope to be half the Adept that either of them are… If there’s magic? I trust them completely.”[/color] he offered to Trisha, considering her usual attitude concerning things like this.

Even though Casey told her not to be scared, Trisha still reactively flinched when he [i]shot[/i] the glass. It was impressive- the way the glass and bullet acted like they were feathers as they floated. And she hadn’t realised Sylvie was blind… That she had been subtly using magic the whole time.

It made it difficult to justify her continued discomfort with what had happened. Where did she draw the line? Was she hypocritically discriminating against magical users, just like she got upset at Casey occasionally doing towards Blinds? 

[color=d1b300]“It’s not that I didn’t [i]trust[/i] her. It’s just… It feels intrusive? Like if I went into someone else's home and blasted it with my pheromones. There’s subtle magic use, like using Orange Lux to see or the pheromones I always give off, and overt, like that. I don’t know…”[/color] She trailed off, biting her lip. 
[color=d1b300]“It feels like an invasion of my space. And you know I still struggle to not associate magic use with fighting and danger… Even if I’m getting better at it…”[/color]

Casey put a hand up.
[color=577d06]”Oh, no… I absolutely agree with you, Babe. The overt level that this glass is enchanted to? I literally don’t think it’ll ever be the same again. Same with that chair she was sitting on, it’s fucking [i]glowing[/i].  I would’ve asked her to keep it simple had I known she was going to walk all over our things like that. I guess I just wanted to show you that, at least, the glass was safe… My bad, it’s definitely way more than that. I understand it now.”[/color] 

He moved to pick up the glass, and the bullet. He dropped the latter into the mouth of the former, letting it rattle around inside. His arms returned to Trisha, holding her tightly.
[color=577d06]”We’ll get this right, Trisha. Over time, we’ll work out exactly what our house rules are, and we’ll enforce them as necessary.”[/color]

Trisha nodded, leaning fully into him and letting him hold her up. She was relieved to hear him agree with her. She’d been worried, just a little, that he’d be alright with how much magic was used. 

[color=d1b300]“I don’t want to be too restrictive… Well, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t use magic at all. I just want a balance, but you’re right, we’ll work it out.”[/color] She smiled gently up at him, before squinting a little bit. 

[color=d1b300]“Besides that… I heard that you [i]gushed[/i] about me then told your Grandmother not to say anything? Do you really…”[/color] She blushed a little bit, not really seeming annoyed about it? At least, not right now. It was frustrating at the time, but Casey hadn’t been the one making assumptions. She didn’t want him to not talk about her…
[color=d1b300]“Love me that much? That you’d talk about me like that then try to… Well, you know I don’t like people knowing things, so, try to protect my comfort, I guess.”[/color]


He nodded enthusiastically.
[color=577d06]”I assume she didn’t stick to that if you’re bringing it up? Honestly, I… I love you so much that I just started spilling my guts to her. To both of them, really… And then when I realized that I’d been talking so much, I just knew that I’d messed up. So, I asked them both to just pretend I hadn’t said anything. I figured maybe if either of them broke it, it’d be easy for you to just assume they asked because… Y’know… I had to ask her to make your ring. No way someone wouldn’t ask questions with that as a task, right?”[/color] he asked gently, his head tilting with vague shame.

In truth, he hadn’t even mentioned the ring until the end of the conversation. It was all the praise, then “Don’t tell her.”, then… What? I’m going to marry this woman? They never would’ve asked. His decisions are his, and his Grandfather knew that wholly. The only person left who could’ve possibly been protective was the one who wound up acting differently than expected.

[color=577d06]”Your comfort is my comfort. And knowing how deeply this problem’s already affected you? I should’ve done better.”[/color] he said, sadness in his voice.

Trisha shook her head, hands moving up to hold Casey’s face. 
[color=d1b300]“It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk about me? It’s not the same as gossiping, or… digging up information I haven’t offered. I [i]trust[/i] you not to say anything you know I wouldn’t want brought up.”[/color]

She frowned a little bit, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks. 
[color=d1b300]“Normally when someone hears something like that, they try to get to know the person who’s close to their loved one. Or at least… That’s what I want. People to actually get to know me rather than just presuming. Not even the boring details, just [i]me[/i].”[/color] Maybe she was the one with high expectations, wanting that. 

[color=d1b300]“But I’m not upset at you for talking. I… like that you love me that much. Your Grandmother was the one who took that and decided to just question my love and dedication to you, and that she didn’t need to know anything else.”[/color]

He shrugged slightly, tucking his lips into a frown and shaking his head.
[color=577d06]”I mean… It is all she needs. All either of them need, really. I talked so much because I’m excited… Speaking of-”[/color]

He took a deep breath, frown climbing into a smile with intent behind it.
[color=577d06]”Do you want to [i]see it?[/i]”[/color]

Did she? Of course she did… But should she? 
[color=d1b300]“I do, but then I’ll [i]really[/i] have to practice my acting because nothing will be a surprise tomorrow. Do you think that’ll be alright?”[/color] Her lips pursed at another thought. 
[color=d1b300]“I can’t believe I have to wait until tomorrow to wear it too…”[/color]

Unable to resist his own impulse, Casey quickly reached back into his pocket. The little golden box he produced was clearly a ring box, and on its shiny surface was a matte emblazoning of a hollow sun with a cross inside of it. He didn't open it, rather handing it off to Trisha fully.

[color=577d06]”Hey, it's yours… Do what you want with it.”[/color] he gently pushed, holding the box carefully until she took it.

Trisha took the box from him with a smile, staring at it for a moment. She really wanted to open it. It was fine, right? Technically he’d already proposed. This was just the ‘official’ proposal and announcement of it. Why shouldn’t she look at the ring? 

She’d be embarrassed enough by him proposing in front of everyone tomorrow she’d be able to react well… 
[color=d1b300]“Anything I want? What if I sneakily wear it tomorrow and make you propose with a dud ring?”[/color] She giggled, still staring at the box. 

She had to see it. Unintentionally holding her breath, Trisha carefully opened the box.

Inside was a delicate gold ring with a central diamond. The gemstone wasn’t too large- just a big bigger than the band itself. Two smaller sharp tipped oval emeralds pointed away from the diamond, in diagonal corners opposite each other. The band near the gem was split in two, twisting around each other. The twist that came from underneath the emeralds sat on top. It had four small green gems inset in it, getting lighter in colour the further away from the centre they got. The underneath twist had delicate strands of silver among the gold. 

[color=d1b300]“It’s beautiful.”[/color] Trisha breathed out, looking back up at Casey with wide eyes. 
[color=d1b300]“Did I [i]really[/i] think of this? Your grandmother didn’t change the design to make it nicer?”[/color]

He shook his head, hand rising slowly to caress her cheek. Casey’s smile was tender, caring and totally full of love toward her.
[color=577d06]”It certainly looks just like what I saw in my head, and I saw it directly from yours! So… I’m certain this is one hundred percent Trisha-Intelligence generated. Look at it all… You were really thinking of us, weren’t you?”[/color] he cooed, looking down at the ring.

[color=577d06]”Are you… Gonna…-”[/color] he paused, hoping she’d naturally go for what he was prodding at.

Trisha’s returning smile was just as loving… It was practically [i]gooey[/i]. 
[color=d1b300]“Gonna…?”[/color] She teased, even though she knew exactly what he was asking. 

She didn’t actually wait for him to answer, carefully lifting the ring out of the box. She slid it on her left ring finger… It fit perfectly. Of course. White Lux really made things easier… With a bright smile she held up her hand, showing it to him. 
[color=d1b300]“So, does it look as nice on my finger?”[/color]

Casey took her hand, pulling it close and staring, then moving to a different angle and looking at it from her perspective. He didn’t say anything; just tucked his face into her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her. For a moment, he held her tight, breathing calmly…
[color=577d06]”We’re getting [i]married[/i]... I get to marry [i]you![/i]”[/color] his muffled voice exclaimed finally, breaking the momentary silence.

[color=577d06]”And you get to marry me too… So,-”[/color]
He reached back again, one arm still wrapped around Trisha’s front. From his pocket, he produced a second identical box.
[color=577d06]”-I had her make mine too… And you get to give it to me [i]whenever[/i] you please.”[/color]

[color=d1b300]“[i]Whenever[/i]?”[/color] Trisha echoed, reaching out to take the second box from him. It was a bit awkward, since she was still holding the box for her ring. 
[color=d1b300]“I can’t do it tomorrow, can I? Then everyone will know I already knew. Do you want me to get down on one knee with it? Will you even be able to see me if I do?”[/color]

She giggled at the thought of that, leaning against him. Not that she was actually so small that he wouldn’t be able to see her if she knelt down… It was just a funny thought.
[color=d1b300]“Am I allowed to look at it?”[/color]

[color=577d06]”I have no expectations of how it's given to me… So, go for whatever is in your heart! Go ahead; if it is what I sent to her, it’ll be incredibly on the nose. You may even smack the top of my head a little bit.”[/color] Casey calmly replied, just happy to see his favorite person so enthusiastic about this.

[color=d1b300]“Are you going to bend down so I can reach?”[/color] Trisha peered up at him with a teasing smile and shining eyes. Now she was really curious to know what it looked like. How could a ring be on the nose? Was it… A massive bee, or something? 

[color=d1b300]“I’m kind of dreading looking at this… You know if it's really bad I can just never give it to you, right?”[/color] She paused for a moment, before relenting.
[color=d1b300]“I can’t believe… Well it’s going to be really nice to both have rings. I didn’t even think about it…”[/color]

She tilted her head back down towards the box containing his ring, finally opening it.

Inside was an incredibly simple and elegant single band of platinum, its luster just that little bit brighter to make itself distinguished from the lesser metal. It was almost [i]too[/i] simple.

[color=577d06]”There’s this… Poem. One of my buddies was big into old poetry. He used to talk about Virgil, y’know the guy that Dante is like head over heels for in the Divine Comedy? Anyway… There’s this verse. I always wondered who that shit was written for, right? But, then I really realized something.”[/color]

His hands came around hers, guiding them to pick the ring from the box. As her warm fingers drifted over the band, they warmed it sufficiently to reveal the thing’s true nature. Little bumps raised up against the surface, until the phrase was clearly visible inlaid into the metal itself.
[i]”Nunc scio quid sit amor.”[/i]

Turning the band over, the inside was fully coated with alternating obsidian and gold bands resembling the color of a bee; and even more interesting, an alternate message on the underside of where the quote was.
[i]”You are my sunshine. My only sunshine.”[/i]

Casey couldn’t look at Trisha and the ring at the same time. He quickly grew weepy, and tucked his head into her shoulder.

[color=577d06]”The character… Damon. He’s talking to this woman, who wound up marrying another man. But the verse… It’s about, y’know, how he… Saw her. As a little girl, when he was a little boy. And he said [i]that…[/i] Nunc scio quid sit amor… Now I know what love is…”[/color]

Trisha stared at the ring in awe. So deceptively simple, but hiding so much… Love. Her free hand, the one not holding the ring, moved up to hold the back of his head. Her fingers wriggled under his hair and gently scratched his nape. 

[color=d1b300]“You’re [i]so[/i] sappy, you know?”[/color] She spoke softly, voice a bit hoarse as she turned her head towards him. She clearly wasn’t upset by it… Nor was she smacking his head for it. She honestly didn’t know how to express her feelings. Overwhelmed. It was… incredibly sappy. It filled her with intense warmth. 

This was the ring that he’d asked for with her in mind. For [i]their[/i] engagement. About [i]her[/i]. 

[color=d1b300]“It’s… really beautiful, Casey. The ring and the meaning. I… didn’t know what love was before you either.”[/color] He probably already knew that… hadn’t she mentioned it after his commencement ceremony? It didn’t matter. 
[color=d1b300]“Now you make me feel more loved than I ever thought possible.”[/color]

She smiled softly at him, before giggling slightly.
[color=d1b300]“I considered having something engraved on the inside of mine too, but decided it’d be too much… Maybe I should’ve.”[/color]

He smiled warmly, tears still coming from his eyes. It was hard to say much of anything that wasn’t singing her praises and making sure she knew how intense his love really was.

[color=577d06]”Y’know? I used to spy on Leon. Familial behavior, I guess. I used to go and watch what was happening if I could. If I managed to tag along, anyway. Mom would usually catch me, or Clarissa would come. But, sometimes…”[/color]

His face turned away from her shoulder to look at her directly.

[color=577d06]”You didn’t look the same. I missed it. Until, maybe a week ago? You were in the greenhouse. Working on something with the bees… There was a pile of them that flew in on this angle, and you had a basket that you were lifting in both your arms… And y’know what? I just can’t miss it now. It was you. So, I knew that quote had to go on it… Because no matter how sweaty or dirty you were in that moment, a teenage boy fell in love. And, I think? I think fate did that. For us. Like it was meant to be.”[/color]

He’d held onto the revelation, still unsure of himself until the ring was in his hand. A quick discussion with the old man, and a handy artifact on his massive utility vest beneath the suit jacket, and the question was resolved. It had to be… Memories from before he kindled couldn’t just be dredged up by any old Recollection, after all…

[color=577d06]”You’ve always been the apple of my eye. In all my dreams.-”[/color]
Hugging into her tightly, his lips came to press against hers, and both his hands clung to her desperately at either arm.
[color=577d06]”-And I’ll never let you go, Trisha. I know what love is now.”[/color]

Wide, shining hazel eyes stared at him. She was rendered speechless by the revelation, before being dragged into a whirlwind of passion. Her lips parted wordlessly and her hands moved forward to hold onto him.

He’d… seen her back then? Ten years ago? When she’d been… Sweaty and dirty, like he said. But more than that, an overwhelmed, snappy teenager filled with resentment towards the world. Someone fighting for a life she didn’t even really believe in… How much had he seen? Did it… matter? 

Because if he could fall in love with the her then, and still loved the her now… Maybe he really would never let her go. Maybe she could start to believe that. 

[color=d1b300]“Did you really fall in love with me then? How?”[/color] She whispered. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him… She did. She was just still trying to process it. It felt unreal. Something that he shouldn’t have been able to remember like that… Because she hadn’t looked the same. She’d been so different. 

Or maybe not as different as she thought. But, again, did that matter? 
[color=d1b300]“If it was fate, why did we have to wait ten years? Why did we have to suffer alone… Why couldn’t you have found me again sooner?”[/color] Rhetorical questions about something that couldn’t change, but ones she voiced anyway.

Casey took her face in his hand before he spoke again, being sure to look deeply into her eyes.

[color=577d06]”That’s just it, isn’t it? Any sooner, we wouldn’t have been right. It wouldn’t be [i]right now.[/i] This confluence, everything in St. Portwell coming to a head all at once? We’re in one another's arms now, where it’s best to be. Safe, secure, and really ready to make something else [i]beyond[/i] what we’ve known. Maybe you’ve been ready for that for a long time, but me? No way could I have given you all this patience, all this care, all the consideration that I do… I couldn’t even give that to myself. It’s only recently that I’ve even felt like I could be in that kind of headspace. So… Maybe it’s my fault. And all I can do is make that up to you for the rest of your life.”[/color]

Trisha smiled at him softly, pressing her face against his hand. Her eyes were slightly watery… It was impossible for them to not be when talking about something like this. 

[color=d1b300]“It’s… probably not your fault. I’ve [i]wanted[/i] that for a long time, but that doesn’t mean I was actually ready? I think I needed to experience all the wrongs to know when it was right… I wouldn’t know I love you if I hadn’t. I wouldn’t be so confident in it… but I know what I feel with you is different. It would’ve been a lot harder if I was questioning all of our feelings, wouldn’t it?”[/color] Though the last ten years had brought her more confidence issues, they’d only been built on what already existed. 

[color=d1b300]“I’m glad. I do wish you’d been in my life the whole time but… I wouldn’t want to risk losing you for that. And we did find each other. I’m so glad…”[/color]