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middaeg2020-03-01 09:21 pm
curruid_coinchenn) wrote in middaeg2020-03-01 09:21 pm
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[ They’d scarcely been in the house a few days and hadn’t fully settled in yet. Everything is in a bit of disarray, items shoved in corners and shelves not completely filled yet. It’s a work in progress, but it’s presentable enough to have company, at least.
The knock on the door comes as no surprise. Berserker opens the door, knowing full well who’s behind it. ]
Come in. Diarmuid’s in the kitchen.
[ He steps back to let Caster in. It's...pleasant to have some semblance of normalcy in his life again. ]
The knock on the door comes as no surprise. Berserker opens the door, knowing full well who’s behind it. ]
Come in. Diarmuid’s in the kitchen.
[ He steps back to let Caster in. It's...pleasant to have some semblance of normalcy in his life again. ]
[ Berserker had only recently returned to his job as a bouncer at the Sly Seadog. It's still hard for him to walk in the area without fear of being attacked and taken again, though it's gotten better. Despite his general indifference for nearly everyone and everything, the staff and regulars at the tavern were happy to have him back -- something that surprised the dragon.
At the end of his shift, he gets pulled into a crowd of regulars and dropped into a seat. ]
Sit and drink with us for a bit, lad. A celebration for you comin' back.
[ Well, it's not like he can say no to that. So Berserker gives in and accepts a drink with a nod. It's an odd group, a mix of monsters, witches, and ordinary humans, some also victims like Berserker. They're all glad to be here and glad to be alive. so of course one of the grizzled seamen starts to sing, loudly and proudly. ]
Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine...
[ More of the group starts to join in, though Berserker is not one of the voices heard. ]
Come lift up your voices, all grief to refrain
For we may or might never all meet here again...
[ They're loud enough to be heard outside the door, loud enough for anyone passing by to hear them. ]
Sing with us, boy! Come on now. We've yet to see you ever have a bit of fun...So come on.
[ By the time Diarmuid gets to the Seadog, he will be treated to a raucous chorus of singing and revelers trying to get Berserker to at least smile for a moment. And to his credit, the dragon is taking it very well. ]
At the end of his shift, he gets pulled into a crowd of regulars and dropped into a seat. ]
Sit and drink with us for a bit, lad. A celebration for you comin' back.
[ Well, it's not like he can say no to that. So Berserker gives in and accepts a drink with a nod. It's an odd group, a mix of monsters, witches, and ordinary humans, some also victims like Berserker. They're all glad to be here and glad to be alive. so of course one of the grizzled seamen starts to sing, loudly and proudly. ]
Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine...
[ More of the group starts to join in, though Berserker is not one of the voices heard. ]
Come lift up your voices, all grief to refrain
For we may or might never all meet here again...
[ They're loud enough to be heard outside the door, loud enough for anyone passing by to hear them. ]
Sing with us, boy! Come on now. We've yet to see you ever have a bit of fun...So come on.
[ By the time Diarmuid gets to the Seadog, he will be treated to a raucous chorus of singing and revelers trying to get Berserker to at least smile for a moment. And to his credit, the dragon is taking it very well. ]
[ Trevor. Feels. Like shit.
To be fair, he's been feeling like shit ever since the whole hey, you're a vampire bastard! thing. But as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, he's slowly felt a little worse as time has gone on and at the start of the month here, he feels the worst he's ever felt.
He looks TERRIBLE. Not in a drank too much the night before, threw up a couple times, rolled around in the grass and passed out under a tree sort of terrible. But the sickly sort of terrible. Pale, tired, blue eyes glassy like marbles. He's got the sort of look of a person who should probably be in a hospital or, at the very least, laying down in bed and drinking chicken noodle soup as well as whatever medicines can be kept down. But no, not Trevor fucking Belmont. He's out on the streets. By himself. Carrying a paper bag against his chest. Sweating like a motherfuc- he just looks bad, ok.
He has his hood up, thankfully, a shield not only from the daylight but also just to keep his sickly appearance on the downlow, wandering the streets in slow steps as he tries to make it back to his shared place with Alucard and Sypha. He maybe should have asked for one of them to come with him. Shit.
Unfortunately, his coordination is a little off and he bumps into a lamppost or something of the sort and knocks his paper bag down out of his hand, spilling the items from the bag with a soft fuck leaving his lips. Dropping down to his knees, he slowly begins to gather up the items which have rolled out onto the street, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand as he does so.
Don't worry. He's... got this. Maybe. ]
To be fair, he's been feeling like shit ever since the whole hey, you're a vampire bastard! thing. But as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, he's slowly felt a little worse as time has gone on and at the start of the month here, he feels the worst he's ever felt.
He looks TERRIBLE. Not in a drank too much the night before, threw up a couple times, rolled around in the grass and passed out under a tree sort of terrible. But the sickly sort of terrible. Pale, tired, blue eyes glassy like marbles. He's got the sort of look of a person who should probably be in a hospital or, at the very least, laying down in bed and drinking chicken noodle soup as well as whatever medicines can be kept down. But no, not Trevor fucking Belmont. He's out on the streets. By himself. Carrying a paper bag against his chest. Sweating like a motherfuc- he just looks bad, ok.
He has his hood up, thankfully, a shield not only from the daylight but also just to keep his sickly appearance on the downlow, wandering the streets in slow steps as he tries to make it back to his shared place with Alucard and Sypha. He maybe should have asked for one of them to come with him. Shit.
Unfortunately, his coordination is a little off and he bumps into a lamppost or something of the sort and knocks his paper bag down out of his hand, spilling the items from the bag with a soft fuck leaving his lips. Dropping down to his knees, he slowly begins to gather up the items which have rolled out onto the street, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand as he does so.
Don't worry. He's... got this. Maybe. ]
[ Berserker is out, on his way home from walking Diarmuid to work. It's been another adjustment period just getting used to being around the city again. At least he no longer gets pangs of fear and anxiety when he sees someone unfamiliar...No, now the fear and anxiety (more like sudden concern) are warranted and directed at someone familiar.
As sick as Trevor looks, Berserker is surprised he's out at all... ]
... Trevor. You look like shit. "[ Are you alright?" would have been the appropriate comment, but the dragon isn't good at being considerate. ] Can you even make it to where you're going?
As sick as Trevor looks, Berserker is surprised he's out at all... ]
... Trevor. You look like shit. "[ Are you alright?" would have been the appropriate comment, but the dragon isn't good at being considerate. ] Can you even make it to where you're going?
[ He's in the process of stuffing things back into his paper bag when he hears the familiar voice of one of his Bonded and he looks up to see- ]
Ciarán?
[ It's said with a squint, hood knocking back a bit with the whole looking up thing. ]
What are you doing here? I was... just going home. Well. Back to where I live here. Not... home-home. But, you know.
[ Cue the trembling wave of a hand as he goes about picking his things up again. ]
Fucking... lamppost. Comes out of nowhere.
Ciarán?
[ It's said with a squint, hood knocking back a bit with the whole looking up thing. ]
What are you doing here? I was... just going home. Well. Back to where I live here. Not... home-home. But, you know.
[ Cue the trembling wave of a hand as he goes about picking his things up again. ]
Fucking... lamppost. Comes out of nowhere.
I was going home. [ Right. He hadn't told Trevor about the whole...moving...thing. It was a somewhat sudden decision, but one of necessity. ] We moved to a house now, so...don't go to my old apartment when you need to feed.
[ More pressing issues at hand here. ]
Do you want help?
[ More pressing issues at hand here. ]
Do you want help?
[ Part of him just wants to shrug it off. Say he's fine. Doesn't need help. Off he goes and all that but... he knows he's not. He knows this is WORSE THAN USUAL. So, with a hum to himself, he holds a hand up then for Berserker to take. Please help him up. ]
Don't think you know where I live around here. Guess... this will be a first.
Don't think you know where I live around here. Guess... this will be a first.
[Those first few nights of meeting Berserker after work had been a mess of barely concealed hypervigilance and apprehension but it's gotten easier with time. Since the dragon came home and returned to work, he's felt considerably more at ease. Maybe he'll even feel comfortable letting him walk back without an escort soon.
Not tonight, though. Even at this late hour, when Diarmuid approaches the Sly Seadog, it's rowdier than ever and, as he heads inside, the boistrous chorus reaches a crescendo. At once, the sailors at its heart burst into a round of cheers and applause- and, much to his surprise, Berserker is among them. Naturally, he doesn't appear to be joining in but neither does he look bothered by it, even as one of the men leans forward to nudge him.
"... so come on." At Diarmuid's approach, the steel-haired midshipman glances up. "Ah, look who it is! Don't suppose you'd know how to get a tune out of our boy Ciarán, would ye?"
Diarmuid flashes Berserker impish smile. He'd intended on leaving as soon as he was ready but he's far too curious for that now.]
Good luck to you with that, lads!
[One of the others shuffles his seat over, leaving room for him to sit opposite his bondmate. While he peronally only shares a passing familiarity with the regulars and workers here, they make for so peculiar a pair that he's left an impression anyway; who would have guessed that their brooding, sharp-eyed beast of a bouncer would have a such a charming partner?]
Maybe you just haven't been hitting the right notes. [He rests his chin on the back of his hand, eyes sparkling as they meet Berserker's.] What do you say?
Not tonight, though. Even at this late hour, when Diarmuid approaches the Sly Seadog, it's rowdier than ever and, as he heads inside, the boistrous chorus reaches a crescendo. At once, the sailors at its heart burst into a round of cheers and applause- and, much to his surprise, Berserker is among them. Naturally, he doesn't appear to be joining in but neither does he look bothered by it, even as one of the men leans forward to nudge him.
"... so come on." At Diarmuid's approach, the steel-haired midshipman glances up. "Ah, look who it is! Don't suppose you'd know how to get a tune out of our boy Ciarán, would ye?"
Diarmuid flashes Berserker impish smile. He'd intended on leaving as soon as he was ready but he's far too curious for that now.]
Good luck to you with that, lads!
[One of the others shuffles his seat over, leaving room for him to sit opposite his bondmate. While he peronally only shares a passing familiarity with the regulars and workers here, they make for so peculiar a pair that he's left an impression anyway; who would have guessed that their brooding, sharp-eyed beast of a bouncer would have a such a charming partner?]
Maybe you just haven't been hitting the right notes. [He rests his chin on the back of his hand, eyes sparkling as they meet Berserker's.] What do you say?
[ He helps Trevor up without even a comment! Asking for help when you're not used to it isn't fun for anyone -- Berserker knows this firsthand. ]
Lean on me...Or I can carry you, if you're that bad. Just tell me where to go.
[ He's not going to ask why the vampire looks so bad because he already knows: his death is creeping closer. ]
Lean on me...Or I can carry you, if you're that bad. Just tell me where to go.
[ He's not going to ask why the vampire looks so bad because he already knows: his death is creeping closer. ]
[ Berserker sees an out when Diarmuid appears, only for that hope to be shattered upon the rocks. It seems no one is safe from the celebration. Oh well...This isn't that bad, is it? Some of them had suffered so badly, just as he had, and it reminds him of home in some small way. The songs are different, the setting is different, but sharing a drink and celebrating just being alive is very much the same.
"So here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let's drink and be merry all out of one glass"
An older, scarred woman hands Diarmuid a drink with a wink before returning to her seat. Berserker,meanwhile, finds himself transfixed by his bondmate's glance...He's too pretty for his own good.
"If anyone knows how t' get him to join in, it's you, lad. Look at the way he looks at you!"
The dragon grimaces and averts his eyes; there's no getting out of that one... ]
Get me another drink and maybe I'll sing for you. Maybe. Even he [ He motions to Diarmuid. ] hasn't heard me sing.
[ "Let's drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may or might never all meet here again"
As the chorus carries on, a fresh glass of ale is put in front of Berserker. He raises his glass to Diarmuid with the briefest of smiles. Just that little smile is enough for the grizzled seaman who'd been teasing him to slap him on the back with a grin.
"I knew ye had it in ye!"
The dragon just gives him a withering stare and turns his attention back to his Bonded. ]
Sláinte!
"So here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let's drink and be merry all out of one glass"
An older, scarred woman hands Diarmuid a drink with a wink before returning to her seat. Berserker,meanwhile, finds himself transfixed by his bondmate's glance...He's too pretty for his own good.
"If anyone knows how t' get him to join in, it's you, lad. Look at the way he looks at you!"
The dragon grimaces and averts his eyes; there's no getting out of that one... ]
Get me another drink and maybe I'll sing for you. Maybe. Even he [ He motions to Diarmuid. ] hasn't heard me sing.
[ "Let's drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may or might never all meet here again"
As the chorus carries on, a fresh glass of ale is put in front of Berserker. He raises his glass to Diarmuid with the briefest of smiles. Just that little smile is enough for the grizzled seaman who'd been teasing him to slap him on the back with a grin.
"I knew ye had it in ye!"
The dragon just gives him a withering stare and turns his attention back to his Bonded. ]
Sláinte!
Edited 2020-03-02 19:33 (UTC)
[The nostalgia is stronger still for Diarmuid; while Berserker had, in all his incarnations, been a more solitary figure, limiting his company to two or three, he had served alongside a whole band of boistrous warriors. A week without at least one get-together around a fire with song and too many drinks was almost unheard of and this has the same atmosphere. It warms his heart to know that Berserker can be a part of it too.
But there's something else too. As he thanks the woman for her kindess- and laughs off the wink- he can't help but notice the faintly enchanted look in the dragon's eyes. Well, now, that's unusual- and if he thought he'd let it slip by when there's such a playful mood in the room, he's got it wrong. Diarmuid leans forward, voice dropping to a low, almost sultry murmur-]
Oh, I haven't, have I?
[- and then he sits back again. He even clinks his pint glass against Berserker's as he holds it out as if he hadn't just made a suggestive joke at his expense. Thankfully, in the middle of their singing, no one else seems to have noticed it. Hmm. Maybe Scathach wasn't too far off when she said he could do with being a little more coarse; it's actually kind of fun to tease him like this.]
Sláinte!
[A few of the others break out of the chorus to give a hearty cheers in response. As the song winds down, though, their enthusiasm doesn't; another roar of approval goes around the room as one of the younger sailors, a woman with a bandana tied across one eye, produces a small fiddle and plays a short, jaunty jingle to set the tone. Then, grinning, she points across the table using her bow.
"Come on, then, boys! Show us what you learned back in your lands!"
Diarmuid takes one long, deep draught of his drink, slams it back on the table and nods at Berserker.]
Ah, but my voice is as weak as this beer [-a ripple of gruff laughter-] on its own. Join me.
But there's something else too. As he thanks the woman for her kindess- and laughs off the wink- he can't help but notice the faintly enchanted look in the dragon's eyes. Well, now, that's unusual- and if he thought he'd let it slip by when there's such a playful mood in the room, he's got it wrong. Diarmuid leans forward, voice dropping to a low, almost sultry murmur-]
Oh, I haven't, have I?
[- and then he sits back again. He even clinks his pint glass against Berserker's as he holds it out as if he hadn't just made a suggestive joke at his expense. Thankfully, in the middle of their singing, no one else seems to have noticed it. Hmm. Maybe Scathach wasn't too far off when she said he could do with being a little more coarse; it's actually kind of fun to tease him like this.]
Sláinte!
[A few of the others break out of the chorus to give a hearty cheers in response. As the song winds down, though, their enthusiasm doesn't; another roar of approval goes around the room as one of the younger sailors, a woman with a bandana tied across one eye, produces a small fiddle and plays a short, jaunty jingle to set the tone. Then, grinning, she points across the table using her bow.
"Come on, then, boys! Show us what you learned back in your lands!"
Diarmuid takes one long, deep draught of his drink, slams it back on the table and nods at Berserker.]
Ah, but my voice is as weak as this beer [-a ripple of gruff laughter-] on its own. Join me.
[ Damn it. For a change, Berserker is the one flustered by that comment. A light flush colors his cheeks as he tosses his head to the side, as if to deny the fact Diarmuid's flirting flustered him. Try as he might to have a poker face, it's difficult when someone knows how the push the right buttons. Loud laughter follows this reaction, which only make the flush spread.
One of the regulars grips the Lancer's shoulder with a huge grin.
"Aye, ye got some kinda hold on him, lad. Never thought I'd see the day!"
Nevermind that for now. Berserker's eyes narrow for a moment as a dangerous smile plays at the corners of his lips. Of course Diarmuid knows the best way to get him going: a challenge. He drains the rest of his beer in one go, slams the mug on the table, and motions for two more. ]
Don't disappoint me, Ua Duibhne. [ The fresh mugs are set down before the two men. As pointed as his command is, there's a playful glint in his eye. ] Lead and I'll follow.
One of the regulars grips the Lancer's shoulder with a huge grin.
"Aye, ye got some kinda hold on him, lad. Never thought I'd see the day!"
Nevermind that for now. Berserker's eyes narrow for a moment as a dangerous smile plays at the corners of his lips. Of course Diarmuid knows the best way to get him going: a challenge. He drains the rest of his beer in one go, slams the mug on the table, and motions for two more. ]
Don't disappoint me, Ua Duibhne. [ The fresh mugs are set down before the two men. As pointed as his command is, there's a playful glint in his eye. ] Lead and I'll follow.
Edited 2020-03-02 21:45 (UTC)
[ Yeah. Yeah it is and it's probably for the best(??) that it's not brought up. Maybe. Either way, Trevor comes to pull himself up with the help of the dragon and leans against him a moment later, a sigh leaving his lips; he feels cooler than usual. ]
Not far from here.
[ To which he just rambles off some basic directions. ]
Need my stuff, too.
[ That fell on the ground. ]
Not far from here.
[ To which he just rambles off some basic directions. ]
Need my stuff, too.
[ That fell on the ground. ]
[ It's a— quite large house, that's for sure. Lots of space— that means a lot of things to get cleaned and arranged. Back in Deceuer he and Waver received help with their parlor, it makes the most sense to return the favour.
Caster welcomes Berserker with a pat on the shoulder as he passes by and enters inside. ]
If you'll need some things and trinkets, we still have a storage room of stuff in Inkchanted. Lamps, dreamcatchers, blankets— [ And then he enters the kitchen, as always mentally prepared to sight of Diarmuid, and as always at least partially charmed. (Boy you have leveled that skill too high) ] Greetings. We're starting here?
Caster welcomes Berserker with a pat on the shoulder as he passes by and enters inside. ]
If you'll need some things and trinkets, we still have a storage room of stuff in Inkchanted. Lamps, dreamcatchers, blankets— [ And then he enters the kitchen, as always mentally prepared to sight of Diarmuid, and as always at least partially charmed. (Boy you have leveled that skill too high) ] Greetings. We're starting here?
[Diarmuid, meanwhile, is currently on his hands and knees and half inside a kitchen cupboard, leaving only his lower body poking out. There's lots of space, yes, but that means more places to check for unwanted housemates and he's already relocated two mice to the garden.
At the sound of Caster's voice, he withdraws to greet him- only to bump his head against the wood in his haste.]
Shit-
[When their guest enters the kitchen, he'll find the witch sat on the floor rubbing his head. It's a considerably less put-together picture than normal, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and half tied in a scruffy ponytail that it seems intent on escaping from against all his efforts. He flashes him a warm smile through the wince.]
Good to see you! Can I get you anything to drink?
At the sound of Caster's voice, he withdraws to greet him- only to bump his head against the wood in his haste.]
Shit-
[When their guest enters the kitchen, he'll find the witch sat on the floor rubbing his head. It's a considerably less put-together picture than normal, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and half tied in a scruffy ponytail that it seems intent on escaping from against all his efforts. He flashes him a warm smile through the wince.]
Good to see you! Can I get you anything to drink?
Edited 2020-03-03 11:06 (UTC)
[ Here be, the first spear of Fianna. Conquering mices, chasing off dust mites, and surely denying moths an entry. It's a wholesome picture, and the sudden hit— well, Caster can't help but let out a chuckle. ]
It warms my heart seeing someone that happy to see me. [ The soft bullying probably starts. It's a friendly tease, a good laugh and— well, fighting for normalcy. Fighting for a good time. Even with the amused lilt the words that follow have that fight acknowledged ] It's good to see you in high spirits, energetic like that.
[ He puts the bag with his own tribute. Both snacks and the like, as well as some tools they could use, in the corner. ]
You know I can't refuse— but if we start with too much drinking will we get anything done?
It warms my heart seeing someone that happy to see me. [ The soft bullying probably starts. It's a friendly tease, a good laugh and— well, fighting for normalcy. Fighting for a good time. Even with the amused lilt the words that follow have that fight acknowledged ] It's good to see you in high spirits, energetic like that.
[ He puts the bag with his own tribute. Both snacks and the like, as well as some tools they could use, in the corner. ]
You know I can't refuse— but if we start with too much drinking will we get anything done?
Who could fail to be delighted by your shining presence, Child of Light?
[A tease for a tease. But his smile softens somewhat at the unspoken meaning in his words, temporarily cast in an almost melancholy light before he gets to his feet. By the time he's standing at Caster's side, it's back to how it was before. For Diarmuid, at least, his own method of fighting back the lingering darkness is to push through it with little care for dealing with it in any meaningful manner. As usual.]
I was thinking of tea, actually. [He chuckles.] What do you think? Is it too early to start drinking, Ciarán?
[A tease for a tease. But his smile softens somewhat at the unspoken meaning in his words, temporarily cast in an almost melancholy light before he gets to his feet. By the time he's standing at Caster's side, it's back to how it was before. For Diarmuid, at least, his own method of fighting back the lingering darkness is to push through it with little care for dealing with it in any meaningful manner. As usual.]
I was thinking of tea, actually. [He chuckles.] What do you think? Is it too early to start drinking, Ciarán?
[ Given the choice between letting Trevor stand on his own for a moment while he picks up the fallen items and doing something a little unusual, he chooses the latter option. His tail is surprisingly dexterous, demonstrated as he picks up the remaining things on the ground and drops them into the bag.
With that taken care of, he puts an arm around the vampire's shoulders to steady him as he starts to walk him home. ]
Were you just going to crawl home if someone hadn't happened upon you?
With that taken care of, he puts an arm around the vampire's shoulders to steady him as he starts to walk him home. ]
Were you just going to crawl home if someone hadn't happened upon you?
[ Berserker can see something between them, some sort of unspoken tension. There's a pointless possessive instinct he has to pull Diarmuid into a hug as a show, but he doesn't act on it. His stupid instincts are still causing him trouble, it seems...
Hm. He'd been silent for much longer than he should have been...and staring. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. ]
We can drink once we're finished. Tea is fine for now. [ Though he can't entirely let it go. ] You're happier to see Cú than I expected.
[ Let the gentle bullying begin. ]
Hm. He'd been silent for much longer than he should have been...and staring. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. ]
We can drink once we're finished. Tea is fine for now. [ Though he can't entirely let it go. ] You're happier to see Cú than I expected.
[ Let the gentle bullying begin. ]
Either that or just take a nap.
[ To which he lets a soft chuckle slip from his lips as he leans himself against the dragon, careful in his own steps and movements. In pulling his cloak a little more around him as they go, he catches sight of his knuckles and the burnt skin on the back of his hand and he just groans. That's new. ]
Jesus Christ. Even on a cloudy day, the sun is still a bitch, is it?
[ To which he lets a soft chuckle slip from his lips as he leans himself against the dragon, careful in his own steps and movements. In pulling his cloak a little more around him as they go, he catches sight of his knuckles and the burnt skin on the back of his hand and he just groans. That's new. ]
Jesus Christ. Even on a cloudy day, the sun is still a bitch, is it?
I feel like I've lectured you about sleeping outside before.
[ And now it's a worse idea. Someone might mistake him for a corpse in this condition. Ah, there's a morbid thought...He will be a corpse soon, won't he? Nevermind... ]
You should stop going out during the day...Or see if someone can help you with an enchantment.
[ He had to rely on the same for warmth during these colder months. A talisman he wore beneath his shirt was enchanted to keep him warm -- a gift from Waver because the dragon is too stubborn to ask for help. ]
[ And now it's a worse idea. Someone might mistake him for a corpse in this condition. Ah, there's a morbid thought...He will be a corpse soon, won't he? Nevermind... ]
You should stop going out during the day...Or see if someone can help you with an enchantment.
[ He had to rely on the same for warmth during these colder months. A talisman he wore beneath his shirt was enchanted to keep him warm -- a gift from Waver because the dragon is too stubborn to ask for help. ]
An enchantment?
[ That's a THING around here? Like... a witch thing?? Well, shooting star the more you know. ]
Guess I might have to at this rate.
[ Even though he's pretty sure he's going to kick the bucket before he can get himself one of those. And, speaking of that... ]
I've been... sort of... discussing what to do about that. [ A beat ] When I go.
[ That's a THING around here? Like... a witch thing?? Well, shooting star the more you know. ]
Guess I might have to at this rate.
[ Even though he's pretty sure he's going to kick the bucket before he can get himself one of those. And, speaking of that... ]
I've been... sort of... discussing what to do about that. [ A beat ] When I go.
[Maybe it's the drink or the amount of people now crowded around, laughing and jostling with each other, but Diarmuid's cheeks have taken on a light colour of their own. It's certainly not Berserker's reaction, delightful as it was, that has him blushing with pleasure. Definitely not. Rather than say anything for or against the seaman's comment, he merely claps a hand over the one on his shoulder and gives a winsome smile.]
I wonder about that.
[As for the song, though, he takes a moment to consider his options. If it were just the two of them, he'd pick something in Gaelic, something to really bring the spirit of Erin here and ring out her praises but this calls for something with wider appeal. Finally, he takes another mouthful of his drink- when did that new glass arrive? does he care?- and clears his throat.
And sings.]
Now we are ready to sail for the horn-
[While not his strongest asset, his voice is strong and full-toned, curled pleasantly at the edges with the strength of his accent. But maybe it's not that surprising: it would be a tragedy if the ward of Aengus Óg, god of poetry and song and love, were tonedeaf.]
Weigh-hey, roll and go!
I wonder about that.
[As for the song, though, he takes a moment to consider his options. If it were just the two of them, he'd pick something in Gaelic, something to really bring the spirit of Erin here and ring out her praises but this calls for something with wider appeal. Finally, he takes another mouthful of his drink- when did that new glass arrive? does he care?- and clears his throat.
And sings.]
Now we are ready to sail for the horn-
[While not his strongest asset, his voice is strong and full-toned, curled pleasantly at the edges with the strength of his accent. But maybe it's not that surprising: it would be a tragedy if the ward of Aengus Óg, god of poetry and song and love, were tonedeaf.]
Weigh-hey, roll and go!
[ Berserker falls silent. It's not as if death bothers him -- he's very, very familiar with death. He slaughtered entire armies when he was alive, killed his closest friend, and his own son. He's experienced death himself. Now it's...different, though. Now he actually cares.
When he does finally speak, his voice is softer, gentler. ]
...It's going to be soon, isn't it?
When he does finally speak, his voice is softer, gentler. ]
...It's going to be soon, isn't it?
Feels like it.
[ He shrugs that off with a weary chuckle, feet careful in their steps as they continue to go. It's... something, really, now that it's getting more and more closer to it. Not as easy to just be all whatever about it when certain PREPARATIONS and all need to be made. No, not funeral shit. But what to do when he wakes up a full vampire and not knowing how he's going to be or feel. That's what's been weighing on his mind as of late. ]
Thinking about restraining myself when I die.
[ It seems extreme but he's a hunter, he knows vampires and monsters. ]
Probably not with silver as it's likely to aggravate me more from the pain when I wake. [ And the last thing anyone wants is a newly turned pissed off vampire ] But I want to be sure that I won't hurt anyone. I just... don't know how I'm going to be.
[ How THIRSTY he's going to be. ]
[ He shrugs that off with a weary chuckle, feet careful in their steps as they continue to go. It's... something, really, now that it's getting more and more closer to it. Not as easy to just be all whatever about it when certain PREPARATIONS and all need to be made. No, not funeral shit. But what to do when he wakes up a full vampire and not knowing how he's going to be or feel. That's what's been weighing on his mind as of late. ]
Thinking about restraining myself when I die.
[ It seems extreme but he's a hunter, he knows vampires and monsters. ]
Probably not with silver as it's likely to aggravate me more from the pain when I wake. [ And the last thing anyone wants is a newly turned pissed off vampire ] But I want to be sure that I won't hurt anyone. I just... don't know how I'm going to be.
[ How THIRSTY he's going to be. ]
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