Greenie

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

*Pokes nose in*

I'm going to attempt to make a character once I get back home. I know I dm'd but wanted it out on forum so I don't chicken out, lol.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

A Truce

by Hank and Greenie

---

Sunset, 14th of Sun’s Height, 4E208
Southern Druadach Mountains, West of Falkreath Hold

Gregor watched her from a distance before he mustered up the courage to approach.

She was the one who deserved his apologies the most, he felt. In stark opposition to the beliefs of her people, Gregor had forced her to become a part of his darkness when she’d killed the Dwemer torturer, thus handing his soul over to the Imperial necromancer. He had laughed in the face of her horror. The memory made him wince and he clenched his fists. After a few more seconds of deliberation, Gregor squared his shoulders and made his way through the tents until he stood opposite Sirine, who had recently returned from the provision run upon Raelynn’s request.

“Sirine,” he began and immediately felt lost for words, all too aware of her hatred for him -- worse than that which Gaius had felt, for hers was personal. “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think of. It was all that he deserved to say. “I’m so sorry.”

It was hard not to jerk at the sound of his voice, but years of forced habit to quell what she felt helped Sirine look quite calm as she lifted her gaze away from the orcish dagger she had finished wiping clean; it had been high time since she gave her beloved blade a little care, and after her chat with a few others around camp, she had decided to take a moment apart by her tent tondo just that.

Though the expression on her face read neutral, the Imperial Redguard couldn't help but tighten her grip around the hilt of the blade out of instinct, but she did no more than slide it back at its place by her waist, not feeling the need to do anything more with it. Dark eyes at last took in the sight of the armoured man, a now familiar sight despite everything

"Gregor." The words fell from her lips like stones dropping into water. "A bit of a surprise to see you." And hear that.

“I know,” Gregor said. He sank down on his haunches, his arms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together in front of his chest, like a man deep in thought. “I needed time. We all did, I think.” After a short pause, he added: “A lot has changed.”

"Clearly," Sirine replied, her hand motioning towards the man- lich, she reminded herself. She didn't quite mean to sound as cold as she was, but it was hard to push away the memories of her morning nightmare.

Still, it seemed everyone was trying to make peace with one another, and perhaps it was time she... tried.

"You're right about needing time," she replied, sighing a little as she sat down in front of her tent, looking up at the imposing presence. Whether he was sincere or not, he certainly sounded it. "I still see that day in the prison in my dreams, except in there my friends are dead and I'm alone." Her mouth tightened for a split second before relaxing. "Well, not quite alone, you're there too. I won't lie, I was scared that day, and there isn't much that scares me."

Gregor looked down at the earth, bowing his head in defeat. “You have nothing to fear from me,” he said, and his tone betrayed the pain he felt. “But I understand.” His voice dropped into a whisper. “It is a frightening thing. It scares me now, when I remember.”

It annoyed her seeing him act so... humble. Where was the man who had laughed in her face? Or the person who had been so indignant the first time they had talked? It seemed to Sirine that becoming a lich had put a dampener on the darkness she had associated with him. Where she could see only black seemed only shades of grey now.

"You may be right," she agreed, "but the mind has a life of its own, I've come to learn." She paused a moment before motioning towards the ground. "Sit down, it's awkward just standing and talking." She didn't wait for him to comply before continuing. "So... am I correct to assume you've talked to Zaveed as well?"

Gregor did as she asked and made himself comfortable on the forest floor, spreading out his cloak around him. He pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs, an infantile position fully at odds with his armored, timeless appearance. “I have. He appears to have taken Raelynn’s words to heart and we settled our differences for good. I was amazed by his forgiveness, truth be told. It is not something I expected. Nor is it something I expect from you,” he said. “Your anger, if you still feel it, is justified.”

"I'm not surprised at all," she replied, smiling wryly even if it only lasted a moment. "Zaveed had made it clear that he didn't wish to hold grudges, and it was due to him that I stayed my blade and did nothing more than carry anger and hatred in my heart." She looked at Gregor, gritting her teeth. It was so hard to feel the same burning anger she had then, seeing this defeated person before her.

"I don't know what I feel," she added, shaking her head. "I want to feel angry, I want to hate you... but at the same time I know if you hadn't tried to kill him, I would never have met Zaveed... that's something I don't wish to fathom at this moment in time. I don't know if it's enough to forgive what happened in the prison but..." She shrugged. "I suppose me not wishing you were dead and off the face of Tamriel is a start?"

“It is,” Gregor agreed.

He fell silent after that and found himself looking up at the sky. The sun was setting and the sapphire blue of the heavens was streaked through with orange fire. It was a beautiful sight. Somewhere in the forests around them, a lark began to sing.

“I did it for me,” the lich said eventually as his gaze returned to Sirine. “I told everyone I did it for my family, my brother and sister, but I did it for me. I was scared. I watched my father die to a horrible disease and he passed that disease on to his children. He put me on the path to necromancy, the desperate last words of a dying man, in the hope that I could use it to save myself and my siblings from that fate. But when it came to the Ideal Masters, and the souls they needed… I enjoyed it. I was good at it. To hold the power to condemn someone to an eternity of suffering…” Gregor shifted on the earth and sighed. “How could I ever die, with that kind of mastery over death?”

It was very strange. She didn't like what he had done, she hated necromancy- the idea of dead people walking around only to have to be felled again made her sick, not to mention the trapped souls- yet hearing his tale of selfishness caused something inside to twitch. Sirine knew that feeling he was talking about very well. It was the same feeling she had felt well up within her when she forced that man so long ago to give up his ship before she sliced his throat. The satisfaction that she'd had power over his life and death had been intoxicating, and she had found that same bloodlust later again when she would send herself and her crew to attack other seafaring vessels.

"I hate that I can relate to you," she replied after a moment of quiet, shaking her head before looking at the lich. "But it seems I can, despite the differences in the paths our lives took. I took my fair share of lives, some deserved it, many did not. I felt I was dispensing justice, but if I really was, my sword should have been pointed elsewhere rather than the directions I took it." She looked away from Gregor, her eyes settling instead on the hollow of her lap, mouth drawn tightly. "It's easy to blame everything else... it's hard to see the truth that most everyone is always looking out for themselves first. I blamed everyone, from my family to the gods for the sour turns in my life, but ultimately I was the one who chose what I did."

Gregor smiled at that. “Hear, hear,” he said and nodded. “It is good that you have already realized that truth now. I had to die to for that to happen. I began to see a lot of things more clearly after I came back. It is all too easy to think that you are only a monster because the world has turned you into one, and that the things you’re doing are just necessary evils.”

He tilted his head as he looked at her while she stared into her lap. In the span of a few minutes, Gregor felt like he had come to understand much more about the woman sitting opposite him. “What now?” he asked softly. “Do you want to do better as well? Make amends?”

"I'm not too sure about that," Sirine replied, looking up once more. "I've never really been that sort of person. For the time being, I am staying with this group... well, Zaveed, truthfully, and he seems bent on staying and seeing all of this-" she motioned in general with a hand- "through to the end. The dwemer took from us both the only families we had left, so perhaps a little vengeance against them isn't the worst thing to partake in. In any case..." She smiled once more, and though it was small, it was a sincere one. "My path is alongside his, and if it ends up with me making amends and becoming a better person, so be it."

She raised an eyebrow as her gaze returned to the lich once more, curious. "And? What about you?"

“See this through to the end,” Gregor echoed in agreement. “Cyrodiil is my home. What they did to the Imperial City is unforgivable. After that… well, my brother and sister still need to be cured of their hereditary disease, and this undeath of mine is nothing more than a half-life.” He shook his head. “It won’t do for them. I need it to stay ahead of Arkay’s judgement, but they are good people.”

After a short pause, he continued. “And after that... I will build Raelynn a home.”

Sirine nodded, and for the first time in a very long time she thought of her mother, wondering if she was still in Anvil or perhaps somewhere else. A small part of her still felt some affection towards the woman; she hoped her mother was safe, wherever she was. "A home for Raelynn. I would say if anyone deserves one, it's probably her. None of this could have been easy for her." It still amazed her that the healer had managed to take a necromancer as her beloved, but then, hadn't people look at her with narrowed eyes for being friends with Zaveed?

Gregor opened his mouth and closed it again. The fact that Raelynn had delighted in Gregor’s darkness, up to a point at least, was perhaps not his secret to tell. “Don’t be fooled,” he said, his tone light, “she likes her bad boys.” Turning it into a joke was a decent middle ground. “But you’re right. That day, after the prison, was rough on her.” The memories flooded back and Gregor fell silent. His hands grabbed each other tightly.

"It would certainly seem so." Sirine still didn't quite know everyone well, and she doubted she would if she was being honest with herself, so it seemed more than possible that there were details about the others that she didn't know. The same could be said for herself though.

"I was the one who had told Daro'Vasora." Sirine decided there was no reason to keep that little tidbit a secret any longer. "I... may have lost my temper a little in my defense of Zaveed. Truth be told, I had thought Daro'Vasora of all people would have known your secret. This group had seemed so... close knit, it was hard to imagine something so great having been hidden for so long."

Gregor blinked. “It was you?” he asked, surprised. A few seconds passed and a soft chuckle emanated from his helmet. “I guess I could have known. Yes, I went to great lengths to keep my activities and my motives hidden from the others. They’re good people, Sirine. Most of them would not have tolerated me in their midst if they knew. The only reason I’m still here is because the situation is rather desperate.” He shrugged. “Better the devil you know.”

"I still find good is a rather relative term," Sirine muttered, shaking her head a little. "They were good enough to let you stay among them, the same way I suppose they let myself and the other two remain in your group." She distinctly recalled Daro'Vasora mentioning having to think about letting Zaveed stay with them. "There are many who would have tossed you to the wolves- most people would have, or finished you off. No offense, just stating the obvious. The fact that you're here speaks of their magnanimity I guess." She let out a short laugh. "It's strange that good would have shunned you at one point, yet good is what has kept you now with these people you seem to care for."

“I wouldn’t say that was a matter of good,” Gregor said. “In Gilane, for example, it would have been in their best interests to put me down or to hand me over to the Poncy Man and his killers. But things had changed so much, for the worse, by the time we reached the oasis and the gathering of the tribes, that putting a violent end to me might have jeopardized their position with the nomads, or sabotaged their chances of success against the Dwemer.” He spread his hands apologetically. “I don’t mean to sing my own praises too much, but I did defeat Zaveed and we need bodies now more than ever. No, the goodness of these people is in how they treat and support each other, and the strength of their conviction in the face of a much more powerful and tyrannical enemy. How they dealt with me was just pragmatism.”

"Perhaps I'm thinking a little too much from my own experiences and how I would have dealt with the situation," Sirine admitted. "She asked me what I would do; I told Daro'Vasora that my way of dealing with dissension involved a blade to the throat... so you can see where we would have differing views. Believe me, despite seeming- well, being all in arms about Zaveed, I knew very well that if someone killed him, it would have been deserved. Oh, I would have been angry, I would have wet my blade and coloured it red, but I would still have understood why. It's why I feel that they are rather... merciful."

“They’re only people,” Gregor said. “I think you and I both do whatever it takes to win. I have killed people that got in my way that didn’t deserve it. Some people that thought they could trust me, even, but when they threatened to impede my quest, to slow me down…”

He let those words hang in the air for a few seconds. “But most of the people here aren’t like that. I was a friend to them. We fought together, bled together, traveled together. Admitting to yourself that the man you’ve traveled with is a monster that should be executed is hard when you thought that man was your friend for weeks. They can use my help, but it also helps to put their hearts at ease to think that I am not beyond redemption,” Gregor said and shrugged. “I guess it’s a little bit of both. All I can do now is strive to not take their mercy for granted, and to make sure they don’t come to regret their decision.”

Sirine couldn't help but smile at that. "Seems like you and him have more in common than we all thought, hm?" She figured the 'him' was obvious and so didn't feel the need to clarify who she was talking about. "That has been something I've heard from him since I met him at the docks, not wishing to take Raelynn's mercy for granted." Her mouth twisted sardonically before relaxing. "It's a long way to forgive a man who tortured and hurt those you care about, but as you said, the two of you have made your peace, and the rest of your group has lived up to what you called them the first time we spoke- good people."

She shrugged lightly and let out a soft sigh. "If they can do that for Zaveed, then I can at least accept your apology. I absolutely detest that I was made part of that perverse act, but..." She struggled to find her words, her hands clenching and loosening before she sighed yet again, as if attempting to rid herself of the negativity inside. "... it's the past now."

“I know,” Gregor replied, his voice low and laced with apology. “If it’s any consolation… that knife-eared bastard deserved it. He would have done the same to your brother. Now he can never hope to return to Tamriel a second time.”

The idea made her heart twist painfully. "I know," Sirine managed, her hand inadvertently reaching up to clutch at the septim resting beneath her throat, as if it would lend her some solace. "Bakih deserved none of what happened to him. I only hope he finds peace and tranquility." Her gaze hardened. "That necromancer paid for what he did, but he was just one person. They sunk my ship and killed my companion mercilessly. Until they're gone... there's no returning to life as it was- as it can be."

He nodded. “We can both agree on that.” Gregor’s eyes observed Sirine intently from inside his helmet. The sun continued to set even lower, bringing out the northern light inside of them and restoring some manner of expression to the otherwise featureless steel slate of his visor. “You won’t rest until you’ve had your revenge,” the lich said, and while his voice was barely more than a whisper, it resonated in the dusk like the sound of a bell being struck. “I understand that too.”

"It's easier to forgive others than oneself sometimes." Sirine's expression eased just a touch. "Whether it's right or wrong, I feel responsible for all the troubles Bakih's been through, and this was the last straw... no more. Justice for him, revenge for my crewmates... perhaps, eventually, for the world?" She laughed bitterly. "I'm still working on that." Breathing in deeply, she stood up in a fluid manner, finally letting go of her coin. Her eyes lifted to look at the sky, and she allowed herself a wry smile.

"I am happy we had this talk," she admitted as she looked away from the two moons, her eyes resting on Gregor. "I feel a little at ease, as odd as it sounds. So thank you." Her hand lifted to rub at the back of her neck, looking out in the distance, as if searching for somebody.

“You’re welcome. That’s what I set out to do, so I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better,” Gregor said with an invisible smile. He did not fail to notice that she was looking for something, or someone -- probably Zaveed, he mused -- and he waved dismissively with his hand. “Don’t let me keep you, Sirine.”

The smallest look of sheepishness crossed over her face, and she nodded, unable to keep a small chuckle from leaving her lips. "Farewell then, Gregor." She gave him a parting nod before turning on her heel and setting out. Perhaps this time her sneaking would be better than a khajiit's sense of hearing.

He watched her go in stillness. After she had disappeared from sight between the other tents, Gregor looked down at the earth below him. A wooden spoon, probably accidentally discarded here after being used to eat a hot meal, stared up at him, and he reached down to pick it up. He turned it over in his hands for a while, otherwise motionless, his helmet an impassive mask. The sun was really low now and the rays of light that penetrated the forest far enough to reach him threw long shadows behind him, like pools of spreading darkness. Gregor gripped the spoon with both hands and looked back up at where he had seen the last of Sirine’s back retreat from sight.

The spoon snapped with the sound of a gunshot that echoed throughout the woods.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Contemplation and banter

• 葉隱 •

Colour me interested ^^

Current Mood in One Gif

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Dawn's Light

---

14th Sun's Height, early morning, a tent in the Reach

Sirine’s eyes shot open, staring up in the dark, breathing heavily as she tried to compose herself. Though she remained still in her laying position, she could feel herself shivering, hear her heart pounding in her ears. The sweat on her face was cooling off in the morning air that pushed its way past the closed tent flap, but it was inside that she felt the coldest. There was no need to close her eyes to see the three dead bodies on the stone floor. Bakih, Sevari... Zaveed. Each staring lifelessly at nothing as she stared down into their glazed eyes, their souls trapped in dark gems, proudly displayed in the hands of-

Stop. Her words were silent, but they were enough for her to break the line of thought she had been headed in. It was quite unfortunate that her pleasant sleep had been marred by an unpleasant dream, but that dream wasn’t fact. This was. Bakih was alive and well… as well as he could be, safe with the Alik'r where his body and spirit would hopefully recover to their fullest. Sevari was well and alive and it seemed the camp was no longer looking at him with narrowed eyes.

As for Zaveed... She looked away from the shadows lurking in the tent, turning the slightest bit so that her eyes fell on the khajiit sleeping next to her. Her fingers wrapped lightly around the coin ever present around her neck, and with her free hand she reached out, the back of her fingers lightly stroking the side of his face. A smile came to her lips, yet her eyes stung and she couldn't help but feel a tightness in her chest as her mind flaunted thoughts she would rather not think of at all.

She didn't want to think of him resigned to spending an eternity in the Dark Behind the World.

The idea that the person who had taken the time to free her from shackles of her own making would end up in an afterlife of darkness hurt her. No matter what he said, and no matter how he made sense, it still filled her with a sadness that she couldn't quite erase. Her hand moved away from his face; she hesitated only the slightest bit before letting her arm settle around his waist, fingers resting lightly against his back.

What of herself? Sirine's eyes closed, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it go. Was she a fool to worry so much about someone else when she was probably going to end up somewhere just as terrible because of her own deeds? Zaveed had been right, no matter how unfair it seemed to her. Early years marred by injustice could not justify all the terrible that was done later from one's own volition. She had been betrayed, she had been taken advantage of in the most disgusting ways... yet what she did after had been her own choice. Mercilessly killing men on their own ship, taking their goods as her own, sailing off on her own conquests.

Was it fair of her to blame higher beings for her sins?

It was strange, the thoughts that a sleepy, stressed mind could conjure, and the former pirate couldn't help but wonder if life would have been different if she had never met that boy in Anvil, the one she had thought she loved. It had all changed then, hadn't it?

What if she had never lost the child? Would she have been in Gilane now, or perhaps Anvil, with a grown child ready to leave home for adventures of their own?

No. She didn't think so. That sort of life had never been hers. From the beginning she was of salt and sea, caring nothing for the masses of land save for a sojourn. This was the longest she had ever been away from the water, and every inch of her body was waiting for the day when she would return to its embrace. No, she didn't believe she'd ever be the lady of a house, and she didn't quite think she would be a good mother.

Perhaps the divines hadn't forsaken her... perhaps they had been helping her all along?

Helping towards what? an indignant voice in the forefront of her mind demanded. To being betrayed? To being raped? To losing the family you made? To being a whore?

Her eyes scrunched tightly against the stinging, and her hand tightened around the coin. It was hard not to make any sound as a sob threatened to leave her. I grew stronger, she reminded herself, forcing her breaths to slow down despite the ache in her chest. I learned to live by my own strength. I dispensed justice to those who wronged me. I... Her breath wavered as she exhaled. Opening her eyes, she couldn't stop the trickle of stray salty tears that made their way down her nose to fall to her neck, droplets cooling by the early morning air. Her eyes once more fell upon the khajiit beside her.

Unable to stop herself, she tightened her arm around him and pressed her face against his chest, inhaling deeply before letting the air go. I met someone who understands me, someone I can trust. Someone I wish to return to the sea with. All the pain, all the twists and turns in her life, all of them had been necessary for this moment to be.

She remained that way for a long while before finally opening her eyes. It seemed the shadows were lessening- dawn's light was approaching and soon the sun would rise.

For now she would stay as she was. The coldness that had filled her was slowly ebbing away with his presence, leaving her with a small warmth that continued to grow within.

Sirine would not deny him the same.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

A ship sails

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Belonging

by Dr. Dervs and Greenbean

---

13th Sun’s Height, nighttime

By the time Sirine had finished her daily writing and packed away her belongings for the night, the sun had already set, though there still remained a lingering redness in the horizon. Stepping out of the tent Meg had helped set up for her, the former pirate couldn’t help but grudgingly accept that there was a certain frigid beauty to Skyrim that warmer lands did not. She sniffed the air delicately, the cool night air mixed with the scent of grass and smoke strangely appealing to the senses. Despite the difference in temperature and the fact that her short cloak was wrapped around her so tightly that she could no longer tighten it further, it made no sense to the Imperial Redguard to spend her time cooped up in a small tent with nothing interesting to look at, at least not until she was sleepy.

Dark eyes roaming the campsite, Sirine made her way through the campfires and tents. At one point she caught sight of Meg snuggling up to someone who was not Jaraleet- Fjolte. Her eyebrow rose in clear surprise but she looked away after a small moment; it was none of her business who the younger Nord spent her time with, and clearly the two were more than comfortable. Besides, her gaze had soon fallen on a much more familiar figure in the distance, lounging on the grass in a fashion she was now used to seeing. She had seen him chatting with Latro before letting herself be distracted by Meg, and despite the awkward peace between the two formerly separate groups, it had been hard for her not to feel a little tension. Still, she had kept to her own affairs, knowing full where she was needed and where she wasn't.

Her lips turned up at the corners and stretched into a closed smile, eyes brightening with anticipation as she stepped lightly, keeping the sound of her footfalls to a minimum while carefully inching closer and closer. She was glad she had decided to only keep her dagger on her person for the moment; the lack of a clunky sword made for quieter movement.

Time to see how good your ears really are, Captain Greywake.

Zaveed had been lying on a soft patch of grass, his gaze skyward towards the twin moons, his eyes drinking in the crimson hue of Masser… Jode, he corrected himself, studying the craters and wondering if his people truly resided there. There was much to the Khajiiti faith and pantheon he didn’t understand, not truly, and he was painfully aware of how that ignorance was going to doom him to the Scuttling Void.

Was it too late in life to find the right path, to become illuminated in Jode’s light? He didn’t know, and with a sigh, he slumped down into the hands behind his head.

Maybe I’ll take up Daedra worship. They don’t seem too picky. he mused darkly in his own thoughts.

Suddenly, he sensed a figure and he smiled despite his gloomy thoughts. “I was wondering when you would come and find me, Beautiful.” he called out quietly, taking in her faintly earthy scent. She was upwind of him, and after spending long enough at her side, her cadence was familiar.

No one else would would have approached, regardless.

"Ah." Sirine let out a loud and exaggerated sigh as she paused in her steps, crossing her arms over her chest in a show of annoyance that wasn't truly there. "And here I thought I was making as little sound as an ant beneath a rock." Her arms dropped loosely to her sides as she started to walk once more, no longer taking care to keep quiet as she reached the khajiit man and lowered herself on the grass. She settled down in a cross legged fashion, sitting perpendicular to him.

Studying his face, Sirine couldn’t help but admire the bold black markings on the dark grey fur, though her eyes paused as they fell upon his ice blue eyes, noting they seemed a little lackluster despite his smile. "Hm..." Reaching out, she tapped his shoulder with her knuckles. "You seem in a contemplative mood, Zaveed. Have you forgotten that's Sevari's domain?"

“Contemplation is not brooding, Sirine. Am I not allowed to take a break from being flippant and brash?” he teased, glancing over to Sirine. “We’re quite a far way away from the sea now, I hope you don’t feel as if I’ve led you astray. We’ll get back sooner or later, I just thought you might like to scale a mountain or thirty for that once in a lifetime experience.” Zaveed chuckled. “Not because mountains aren’t abundant, but because who in their non-addled mind would do this more than once for fun?”

"No, no you aren't," she replied immediately, smiling despite herself. "Though that is quite fair, brooding is most definitely his thing. Please don't take his example there, one's enough." She laughed lightly before looking away from his face and to their surroundings instead. "I'm not going to say I don't feel the lack of salt water, but-" Waving a hand at the mountainous region they found themselves in, she continued. "-this has a beauty of its own." She looked back down at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you've been thinking about? I hope you don't feel as if I would hold this journey against you. I knew full well it may take its time."

“I was mostly trying to keep the mood light; heavy thoughts upon my mind and all of that.” Zaveed’s smile faltered a bit and his gaze returned to the moons above. “When we met, when I was dying… that’s been on my mind of late. Much of my life has been spent simply trying to earn my right to live without much consideration on the toll it’s been reaping upon my soul. With Gregor what he is, it’s put that veil between life and death into a contrast I seldom took time to contemplate.” he sighed. “I’ll cease to be, and I don’t want that. I don’t know who my family was, and looking up there, I wonder if they’re looking back or if that’s just some skooma-born myth of a superstitious desert tribe. You know that’s what Khajiit means, yes? Khaj means desert, -iit means one’s location or occupation. Hence, of the desert. My heart’s always detested sands, it belongs to the sea, but isn’t that a bit backwards for what one such as myself should be?” he asked in a somewhat rambly contemplation.

Sirine was quiet, the smile on her face tapering to a more solemn look. Without saying anything she scooted a little forward, resting her hand on his arm, conscious of the fur beneath her palm. Hearing his words, she wondered how long it must have been before he'd had a chance to speak them out loud. No one expected deep, existential thoughts from him, that much she knew; despite it all they still mostly saw the khajiit man as an outsider among them, someone charming yet deadly. Had anyone taken the time to listen to him, to truly understand him and look beyond what he let show? She doubted it, and it made her heart twist painfully.

"Just because we're called something," she finally started, "or look some way, it doesn't mean that is all we’re meant to be. If that were the case, I would be sitting pretty in some beautiful manor in Gilane, staring at the city below from some gilded balcony, or perhaps in Anvil. Who knows. We are what we are, but that hardly means that is all we can be." Hesitating a moment, Sirine distracted herself, lightly running her fingers over his arm before speaking once more. "You know fair well my thoughts on the divines and my thoughts on family. If I'm being completely honest with you, I don't know where my soul will be headed once I'm gone... I only know that I want to live my life without any more regrets.

"Our paths, we had never been given a choice of which way we would be shoved forward. Despite that, we made what we could of life, for better or for worse, and when there was finally a chance, we trusted each other and took the path we believed was right. All of our choices have led us to this point in life where... well, look at us." She smiled down at him, squeezing his arm gently. "From a privateer and pirate to paving the path of becoming heroes who will hopefully save Tamriel."

“Respectfully, I know exactly where mine is going. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Zaveed responded as gently as he could, a tension in his voice. His gaze remained skyward. “The thing is, I’ve spent so long thinking about just making it day to day in a world of hard people that I never stopped to think what happens if I should fall. Morality never factored into my thoughts; losing simply wasn’t an option for me, so I didn’t let myself take many risks or chances where I didn’t think the odds were in my favour.” he shook his head. “I’m hardly hero material, Sirine. I might be helping people who might fit those britches some day, I’m doing this purely for selfish reasons. The Dwemer took everything from me, so I’m going to take everything right back. I’ve never apologized for what I am, but I will make them apologize for what they are.”

Sirine's brow furrowed as she looked down at the hollow of her lap. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she felt resentment towards higher beings who thought it was their right to meddle in mortal lives in what she deemed was cruel and unfairness on their part, even though she knew her feelings would make absolutely no difference to anyone. She was reminded of her now dead friend- where was his soul? What about the rest of her crew? Her eyes closed; she needed a moment to compose herself before speaking up once more. "Is that truly selfish, Zaveed?" Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked down at the hand that was resting in her lap, barely able to see the healed rope burns around her wrist, a continuous reminder of her sordid past. "It sounds just about right to me. If someone's hurt you, I don't see what's wrong with giving them back what they deserve." It was hard to keep the bitter tone out of her voice, so she simply gave up on it.

“Well, heroes in tales don’t typically go seeking vengeance. There’s usually a lot more selfless actions and care about the innocent; I’m not the kind of person people tell kindly stories of.” Zaveed chuckled lightly, slumping down again. “It doesn’t much matter what’s right or wrong to me at this point, I’ve never known Jode’s light. Innocence as a youth cannot compare to the decades that came after where my survival turned into a life thriving off of other people’s misery. I don’t even know what moon sugar tastes like; I’m awful at being a Khajiit. And for that, I am destined to the Dark Behind the World.”

Sirine finally looked away from her lap and back at Zaveed, her expression undecipherable. It was true enough what he said; ultimately a person had to live up to the decisions they had made and bear the consequences. But... "Why did you help me out of that brothel Zaveed?" she finally asked, her eyes staring at him pointedly for a good moment before averting her gaze, looking instead at the night sky and the moons above them. "You could very well have taken whatever information I had and just left. In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised if you had, anyone else would have. Who in their right mind cares about a whore in a tavern?”

She paused to take a breath; her hand curled into a loose fist, bunching the cloth of her tunic in its grasp. “You didn't leave though. You did more than was expected of you. You bore so much trouble in the desert, and then at the oasis. I could see the way they all looked at you- yet you took it all gracefully. And then the prison, where you could have lost your life more than once. All I wanted was information, yet you gave me so much more for the pittance I did for you. Why? Was it all for the sake of vengeance against the dwemer?"

“A man’s only as good as his word. If I can’t keep my promises, sure I could have short-term gains at someone else’s expense, but then I earn a reputation as being untrustworthy, dishonourable. In our line of work, that’s something you cannot afford.” the Khajiit explained with a frown.

“But it’s true, I didn’t have to do more than find out where Bakih was as per our agreement. It just didn’t seem very fair or just that I found Marassa and leaving you without at least trying to see your own personal quest through… and after my, hm, ordeal, my perspectives on a number of things have shifted considerably. I had once frequented brothels without much consideration for the circumstances of the women working there, but maybe I was feeling vulnerable myself, but where you were in the Scorpion’s Song just had this air of pervasive darkness.” Zaveed said, sitting up and taking in Sirine with his icy eyes. “But you were someone who risked a lot to help me, expecting so little in turn. I’ll be honest, the idea of just leaving you in that shithole without at least getting you out of that life filled me with this sense of guilt and self-loathing I didn’t think possible.” he chuckled darkly. “As I said, vulnerable.”

"I would have been fine if it was simply vengeance," Sirine replied, her hand slackening as she let go of the cloth she'd had in her grasp. "But it makes me happy to hear that it was something more than just that." She sighed softly and cast a glance in his direction, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away yet again. "I never cared for the gods or what comes before life or after, but I know the same can't be said for others." She hesitated, unsure if what she wished to say was even worth saying at this moment. "It just seems unfair to me that your fate would be decided even before you leave this world."

“I haven’t led a good life, at least not one that could be considered particularly savory. Barely fending off death gives one a certain new perspective on things, yes?” Zaveed smiled, placing his hand over Sirine’s. “Maybe it’s too late for me to change one’s stars, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to sit about and wallow in futility. I’m going to use the time I have left to figure out the person I should have been all along. I’ve been thinking a lot of the boy I was… I wonder if he’s still in there.” he pondered.

"I used to wonder that about myself." When Sirine returned her gaze to Zaveed, she let it stay on him, this time refusing to look away. "After everything that was done to me, and everything I did to others, how could I ever go back to the person I once was?" Her hand turned beneath his, fingers wrapping around his. "I would have thought it impossible, but I'm not too sure about that anymore." Smiling, she squeezed his hand before continuing. "I think a person just needs a little encouragement from the right people to find that part of themselves they feel they've lost. I'm still searching... but you've shown me that it's worth the risk to trust again. I think if you truly wish to find that boy, you will."

"This is plenty encouraging," Zaveed said with a smile, squeezing back. "You know, it's rather droll and lonely doing this kind of search alone. I think I'd very much like it if you were with me when we do go on that journey… you've become a part of me that I know I cannot do without. I never realized how lonely the world can be without someone who sees you for who you really are, past the reputation and the name."

"You don't have to worry about that," Sirine replied, looking up at the sky once more, her smile still very apparent on her face. "From Gilane to the Alik'r to here in the Reach- if I'd wanted to leave, I would have done so much earlier than now." She remained quiet for a moment after, simply relishing the peace. "The truth is that I like this feeling, this belonging. After those months by myself, meeting you that day and waiting for your return was like..." She couldn't help but chuckle as she gave him a sidelong glance "... like catching the scent of saltwater even before you can see the waves. The thought of losing that- losing you- frankly it's a little scary."

She lifted her free hand to her hair, the slightest hint of awkwardness showing itself as she fiddled with her locks. "In simpler words, what I mean to say is that I am happy being here with you and I'm not planning on going anywhere."

“Belonging…” Zaveed repeated softly, placing a hand upon Sirine’s cheek, his gaze steady and his heart racing. “Maybe what we both needed was ground beneath our feet to ground our souls. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, Beautiful Sirine, but I know that you will be there and it doesn’t seem so frightening. I would very much like it if I woke up tomorrow and you were the first thing I laid eyes on.” he admitted.

Sirine's hand stilled in her hair, her face beneath his hand becoming flush. In the deep recesses of her mind she could remember feeling something similar to this a long, long time ago, when she was merely a silly child who knew nothing of the realities of the world and the darkness it contained. Her hand fell away from her hair and settled on Zaveed's, smile warm and eyes warmer still. "I guess being away from the sea isn't so bad after all," she murmured, a low laugh emitting from her as she closed her eyes, savouring the moment. When she finally opened them, dark brown eyes met icy blue ones, and it was difficult not to lean towards him. "Let's make that happen then, hm?"

Without another word or hesitation, Zaveed leaned in and gently kissed Sirine, the faintest and most teasing of brushing on their lips. He felt young again, and the woman before him made him feel like he imagined what most people experienced when they found a partner they connected with, who made them feel like better versions of themselves, that they wanted to dedicate themselves to. There had been plenty of women in Zaveed’s life, they had simply been one night acquaintances, two people mutually deciding to indulge their baser instincts or conduct a simple transaction. This felt like it meant something, like he earned it.

Zaveed was determined to make sure he continued to do so.

Sirine's grasp on his hand tightened, a smile on her lips as she returned the kiss. When was the last time she had enjoyed one? She couldn't remember, it had been much too long... but she was quite certain that this sweet and tender meeting of lips was something she would be remembering for a very long time indeed. After a moment, she pulled away the smallest bit, though she was still close enough that her nose almost touched his. Her eyes met his and her smile widened, feeling as if her heart would expand out of her chest.

"Come with me," she said, gently tugging on his hand as she stood up.

Zaveed rose with Sirine, holding her hand as they walked towards her tent, a surprisingly nervous flutter in Zaveed’s gut surprising him. Why that particular feeling, he wondered, looking around almost bashfully to see if anyone was watching. This was something they both wanted, a bond they shared, and Zaveed was daring and courageous to the point of legend. Women didn’t intimidate him, and he certainly knew his way around them… so why was this different?

When they arrived, Sirine held open the tent flap, ushering Zaveed inside. He sat on the sparse blankets, watching her come in as he removed his boots and weapon belt, leaving him just in his trousers and shirt. He smiled at her approach, holding his hand out for her to sit with him. “Sirine, I…” he said, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “I do not wish to rush into anything, or to give you the impression that I’m after something more, ah… lustful.” he said with a nervous chuckle, running a hand across the back of his head, shaking it.

Taking hold of his hand, Sirine sat down before him on her knees. Her gaze was now tinged with wetness, and her free hand reached up to rub away the tears before settling lightly on his forearm. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that," she replied softly, leaning forward to press her forehead against his shoulder. She couldn’t help but remember the last time she was this close, in tears, vulnerable, grieving. It was much of the same now, except there was no sadness, only warmth. "But I already knew this, Zaveed... no one else has ever treated me with as much honour and respect as you have. This- what we're feeling, I like it. This is why I feel if ever again I..." Her voice trailed before she continued, "... as long as you wish it, it will be you."

Lifting her head, she brought her hand to his face, resting it gently on his cheek as she looked into his eyes. Smiling, she leaned in and softly pressed her lips against his, lingering for a few seconds before speaking once more. “For now, let’s sleep, hm?”

Zaveed adjusted himself, laying down while gently pulling Sirine down with him. As they faced one another, he reached out gently, cradling her cheek and pressing his brow against hers, his eyes closing slowly. “And as long as you wish it, I will be by your side. The world doesn’t always make sense, and it can be cold and cruel, but I know that you are the fire that warms my heart and lights my way.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And when we wake up in the morrow, we will face whatever it holds together.”

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

I am trying ^^;

Give Me Your Favorite Quote(s).

Vaba Do'Shurh'do- It is good to be brave

~ Khajiit Saying