[indent][i]"You have 2 minutes to tell me what the fuck is going on, or I'm out of here to find UIrich on my own, my way. Leaving you and yours to deal with anyone you might have pissed off. You understand me, Helen?"[/i][/indent]

Dirk walks in and then instantly regrets doing so. Damien is pissed-- and okay, that wasn't something new-- he points angrily at Helen, who is brandishing a toy gun and staring blankly at Tyrus who has his sword impaled into a young boy. 

[i]Something about that last part...[/i]

"It's going to take more than a few minutes Damien- who the hell is he? Tell him to put away that butter knife--"
"Put down the gun, first."
"You don't trust me? Fine, it's not like I was rushing back here to [i]save[/i] you or anything--"
"You are a kidnapping, lying, maniup--"
"You. Damien. YOU. Are a [i]cheating[/i], insensitive, holier-than-thou-- "
"Tyrus, we're back to base. Looks like she's high as fuck--"
"Trust me, asshole. I have never been this sober in my entire life."
"[i]I'm[/i] the asshole?"

The three of them are slowly starting to get louder as they exchange some dicey shots about things far beyond his scope; all of them seemingly completely oblivious to the gutted kid on the end of Tyrus' sword. [i]Which means...[/i]The boy is busy staring at Damien with a thoughtful expression and then seems bemused when he looks at his own hands. He waves a palm right in front of O'Shalna's face and then frowns as Damien flat out ignores him. Dirk watches him a moment too long and as the boy turns his head to meet his stare. He blinks in surprise and then smiles, parting his lips to speak. But before the boy can get a word out, Dirk exasperated, says "Nope." spins and trips over the chaise lounge; Helen, Damien, and Tyrus pause for a moment, casting him an annoyed look as he runs out of the room leaving his second roll behind. His mumbles 'shit' a bunch of times as his fingers fumble trying to unlock the door to his own room. 

"Wait!" 

A voice calls out to him. But in the next moment the door is open and he shoves it closed and twists the lock. Not that any of it would help...He knocks frantically on the bathroom door. [i]Selen isn't out yet? How long could it take to have a shower?[/i] A large, toothless old woman answers "You want in, sonny? Come wash granny's back, young buck."

"Eeeuuurgh. You even added liver spots?" he covers his eyes, momentarily thrown off by her choice in form. Last night, things got pretty weird with them staying up late, playing Guess Who and pooling bets on how long it would take for Helen or Damien to come begging to swap rooms. They got slightly buzzed off the last of her stash. "Listen, Helen's is down two against one in there arguing and I'm hung over seeing things again-- too tired to break it up, myself. Get in there and calm things down before things get messy." The door bursts open and old lady sprints nude for a pair of slacks. Selen's form melts and shivers as she chooses a the guise of a dark, dangerous looking hulk-type. 

"Good thing I went for back up last night, right?" he-she replies while rushing over to the fridge and scooping up several plastic bags of groceries. "I'm pretty sure everyone's just really hungry... and it's either [i]this[/i] or a can of whoop-ass, for breakfast," Selene adds darkly.

 The door opens and slams as he is left alone. Alone... at last.. Dirk sighs and then jumps at a voice in the room.

[center][img=http://i1367.photobucket.com/albums/r800/the_fauxtrot/49fdf267-a5ad-4bb7-9029-4eac385dce2a_zpsedb8aa79.jpg][/center]
[center][i]"You can see me, can't you?"[/i][/center]

Dirk hisses, "No, I can't!" It always started out this way. Gods. Demons. Whatever else he accidentally made eye contact with.
"I realize you must get this a lot, but I need your help..." says the boy, "...it's about that guy in there."
"Who, Damien?"
The boy's face lights up "That's his name?"
"Unless you mean Tyrus?"
"The tall one."
"You mean Damien, yeah. Wait. No. What the hell. I'm not suppose to be talking to you."
"Why, not?"
"Because you're about to tell me something that I probably don't want to know."
"Maybe... but it's important. I'm not going to be around much longer..." 

Dirk watched the spirit's form flicker under the florescent lighting. It was strange, he didn't see very many normal spirits these days. Especially ones that didn't bleed from the eyes or crawl up walls and shit. He leaned in closer, "You seem familiar, did you pass away recently?"

"I hope not." the boy says seriously, "I haven't even been born yet."

"Oh." The tips of Dirk's ears redden with realization. He'd met unborn souls before. But never actually spoke to any directly. It was a big part of the reason he was uncomfortable dating. Try courting a girl while finding out mid-way through she's about to bake bread with another fella. Disturbing as fuck, is what it is. But why now? As far as he knew the only two that seem to get any action around here are-- he sinks lower in his chair-- eyeing the boy's squared, structured jaw and broad shoulders. In response, the boy grins unsure of himself, and then in a movement Dirk is convinced is genetic, the boy rakes his hand through the front of his hair.[i]...Sweet berries and cream...[/i] "I'll never be able to look him in the eye again...never..." the elf groans miserably into his palms.

The boy shrugged "Avan told me it'd be alright to ask you a favor."
"Avan? Yeah. Nice try." Dirk clicked his tongue nervously and then began to whistle furiously in order to block out anything else the boy might say.
"Avan-sol" the boy said. 
Dirk paused a moment, and then shrugged. "Don't use words you don't know the meaning of..."
"Right because I might not exist." the boy's mouth, Dirk notices, is a little too full to be Damien's exact copy, "-- my mother's life is in danger. I might not get to be born. Avan sent me to warn you about an underground lake?"

"No! I don't want to know. If Avan wanted me to be warned he would have shown up himself. But he hasn't. All this time... I'm the only person I know who sees things. All this time and I haven't seen Avan, once. Is he too busy? The O'Shalna brothers weren't his only family. [i]All[/i] of us were like his family. Everyone in Central Forest knew him. Why'd he have to sent Damien-goddamn-O'Shalna's unborn kid to tell me a message? Oh sure, I've got a message for tiger-boy. Shtah' Lem' Vesht. Meaning,[i] Wrap it before you tap it.[/i] I'm done." The elf stands and heads back in the direction of the hallway, "This situation is officially, janked." he was rearing and ready to be anywhere else but alone with something that only he could see. He doesn't give the boy a chance to speak anymore as he marches with hands over his ears back across the hall and braces himself for more yelling-- probably aimed at him for barging in. 

Instead, the smell of coffee and pancakes hits him full force. Helen is asking Tyrus:
"Did you wash your hands?"
"Yes ma'am"
"Damien leave some bacon for the rest of us-- Tyrus before you pick up that fork-- swear on The Scripture you washed your hands."
"I swear it."
"Selene, bring Dirk and come help me with the spread-- they're eating faster than I can make them."
"Oi! Steal my bacon will ye'?"
"I'm pulling rank" Damien barks. But as he tips his head back to make a show of his leadership, Tyrus nicks a sausage link from his plate. Stealth as fuck. 

"What's going on?"
"Helen's been filling everyone in," Selene says to him and then extends out a pipping mug of black coffee. He accepts it bewildered and she adds, "Still a little tense. But I was right about the breakfast. I'm sure you remember how it was in training..."

He did. And that was perhaps the singular thing the Sea Tigers needed. Better food. Most of them were college boys in their prime with unsurpassed knowledge in swordsmanship and dedication strong enough to create the most efficient grassroots army Central Forest had ever seen...Absolutely, [i]zero[/i] cooking skills though. Smart move working up a man from the gut. Selene had probably anticipated this peace offering as soon as she knew Sea Tigers would be involved. Dirk would wonder briefly, what else these girls had up their sleeves. "Hey... Leave me some-- I like pecans in my hotcakes..." he mumbled and took the only open seat next to Tyrus. 

Helen and Selene worked methodically together, flipping, frying, whisking. There was something about being full enough to relax, yet still hungry enough to enjoy food with plenty of it still to come, that just mellowed the hell out of a man. For about an hour, it almost felt like there was no rebellion or missing Ulrich. They were just young and hungry. 

[indent][i]"I have some theories about who she is-- The Widow operates through scrambled signals but her intentions are pretty obvious." 
"Someone in the government to have access to real firepower."
"Exactly. And if she's on really on our side- Avan really had some friends in high places- that's indispensable help."
"What if she's baiting us?"
"Why would she though? I mean in this way. Seems like too much effort. I have a feeling she's on our side."
"And that silver ball?"
"We have to come up with a way to open it. I have no clue aside from shooting it open"[/i][/indent]

When Dirk looked over, he spotted Damien and thought maybe he was a little [i]too[/i] interested into his conversation with Helen. His expression had softened considerably since this morning but still gravely serious as she pressed a washcloth into his scraped forehead. Helen's cheeks were flushed pinkish with heat of cooking...[i]Smug as hell.[/i] The guy was clearly posturing a full belly. Dirk maybe wasn't book smart. But he knew a thing or two about the effects of a plate of eggs done to perfection, what it could do to tame the beast within. 

 Dirk choked on his last sip of coffee as the spirit-boy poked his head from behind her shoulder. He eyed Helen's ears and then touched his own as if somehow making a comparison, watching his parents converse with utter captivation. Most unborn souls were like that though. Dirk almost felt sorry for him, though. Had he arrived on any other recent day, he'd be seeing a whole different side of things. "I'm running out of time. I'll need to manifest soon...keep her away from the lake, okay?" the boy says sadly, eyeing the way Helen snickers and then nibbles at her bottom lip in a way that seems to make O'Shalna sit up a little straighter. Good food makes everyone soft... by dinner they'll be at each other's throats.

The boy's outline shimmers, and then becomes white ray of light unseen and sucked into pinpoint in her lower abdominal region through the channel of Helen's navel. By the end of it she shudders, and Dirk knows what she'll say next before she makes the excuse.

"I think maybe I ate too fast?" Helen gets up and then makes her way to the bathroom. 

Dirk wondered if he should say anything. He looks at Damien and is about to speak when: 

"[i]What?[/i]" O'Shalna scowls.

[indent]Maybe keeping the secret will help him cope with all the flack he gets around here. He's supposedly crazy, anyways, right? Yeah. They can find out in a couple of weeks the old fashioned way. Aside from the bit about an underground lake, it wasn't any of his business.[/indent] 

"Nothing." Dirk whispers into his plate. "Nothing at all, slim."