Dragon's Consequence

[Jaycy Ashleana]

It was with an unsettled frown that the redhead emerged from her office at the Outback. Had she been there all night? It was definitely possible, given the weariness and still ruined jersey that clung to her shoulders and hung down the front, missing a wide panel in the back. Missing though were both the wings and protective scales she'd exhibited last night.

The sunken set of her shoulders, too, hinted at her exhaustion and possible overexertion the night before. She'd attacked a man, a patron no less. Here. In the Outback. That frown deepened as she made her way to the back room, strides purposeful as she sought materials to patch the hole the gun made the night before.

It was several minutes before she reemerged from the back room burdened with a full basket under one arm; spackle, paint, brush, blade... all necessary ingredients for the fix. In her grasp, as well, a step stool. While it only had a few steps, it should be enough to reach the blemish on the wall to fix it. Padding to where the practice dummy had been, she set her tools down on a nearby table and opened the stool, settling the leading feet directly against the wall to provide support.

It'd started out normally enough; Bailey's match, work, quiet ... and then suddenly a gun shot. Wait, what. Of course she'd gone out to investigate. Okay, she might have yelled a little too. That was a natural reaction, go out and stop people from destroying the building again. Goodness knew that had happened enough times bef -- why hadn't they contracted with a mage to spell it and make it self-repairing yet?!

She shoved that thought away to return to it at another time.

Retrieving both spackle and knife, she lifted the top and settled that on the table before turning to ascend the two steps. At least the nice thing about single bullet holes was that it was a small surface area to fix, right? Just a dab would work and it was even quick-drying so she wouldn't have to be out here for very long! Digging the edge of the knife into the putty she drew out a small bit and extended her hand upward. It was just low enough that she could reach.

That was when things had gotten ... concerning. The man, Phil, hadn't been the least concerned about the damage to the Outback - "If they've got a problem with it they can bill me for it.” - and then had the gall to kick the dummy's head toward her. She might have overreacted by saying she was going to kick his ass when he missed. Mayhap just a little. In her more lucid moments now, the next day, she could almost understand why he'd leveled his guns at her.

She pushed the dab of spackle into the hole before using the knife to smooth it out, pushing up from below to ensure the surface was even with the rest of the wall. The redhead took a few more passes before climbing down; she knew she had to wait for a few minutes before she could paint over the spot. With a sigh, she returned to the basket and replaced the lid on the container before putting it away again. From there, she headed for the sink so that she could clean the spackling knife, holding it under running water and using a clean rag to wipe it off.

She'd seen red and the shift had been instantaneous. So had the attempt to attack him. Wings and scales sprouted from her form and she'd lunged at him; how dare he. A combination of magic and physical assault had left the man bruised and bloodied (nevermind at least one wound was self-inflicted). That itself was worrisome, but perhaps worst were her parting words when she felt the message had been conveyed; don't shoot things in my Outback.

Her Outback? Shaking her head, she dried the knife and returned the tool to the basket, easing into a seat to wait out the drying period. Legs, short as they were, stretched out in front of her so she could cross them at the ankles, and fingers twined on her lap. Aye, she was currently the Diamond and aye, she worked there and aye, it had been as much home as other places in her years here, but ... her Outback? No, she didn't own it nor was she the sole arbiter of its use (or misuse) or even its only (or rightful) guardian.

No, she'd gone well beyond the bounds of appropriate and here, in the harsh tone of daylight, she knew it. She'd become blind to everything but might and power in that moment and had cared only for the maintenance of her possession. Much ... aye, she had to admit it. Much like a dragon. Tass had warned her about dragons and hoards and she'd claimed it'd not take her, that she'd not lose herself to the baser instincts. After all, she wasn't born dragon but rather made.

But it seemed that didn't really matter.

Dire thoughts drifted inexorably to the blonde and their relationship. Jaycy didn't hoard her in the sense that Tass worried over; she could share time and love of Hope with others. But if she were being honest...

She coveted Hope; she wanted her for forever. She'd had designs and thoughts that mayhap PathFinder could make the blonde as much dragon as it had her (for it was largely PathFinder's doing that had brought draconic blood into her veins and soul-bonded her with Pslyder) and that she could be with the woman for centuries. Hope, after all, had been her choice to love, had been as much savior as Mart had been in her return. She'd clung to the blonde, become hers (so very willingly) and loved deeply and desperately.

That had borne out in the last several months. Aye, the games in the Arena were just games but with every threat to the blonde as Overlady, true or illusory, Jaycy had responded in kind - or more than kind. Those efforts had been successful in the frame of Hope was still Overlord, but... was this, in the end, healthy?

Perhaps not.

Wet clung to the corners of her eyes as the internal clock alerted her that the spot was likely ready to paint. Rather than take the entire jar over (and risk spilling it and causing way more damage than the bullet had), Jaycy opened the paint can and stirred the liquid with the brush's bristles. Several quick turns and the emulsion was ready. She dipped the brush straight in and then ran it against the edge of the can to remove extra. Once prepared, she returned to the stool and climbed it, softly brushing over the now-dry paste.

Quick work, seconds later, and she was done and closing paint can and washing out the brush. Everything went back into the basket and she delivered it to the back room, coming out in much less time this second pass than before and making tracks for her office once more.

There might come a day when she wouldn't be able to control herself when it came to Hope Naharis, a day when she might guard the blonde's time so zealously that she would lose her in a million painful ways. There might be a time where she became desperate enough to force a change on her and keep the blonde with her unwilling; at least until now she could say she'd never attempt such a thing without full and knowing consent. But who could say for the future.

The day hadn't come yet, but the Dragon might still win. Mayhap it was better to return to Psly now; they had a family, children, and the larger excuse for her continued residency in the City - the protection of that family from the war of the siblings - hadn't manifested beyond the slowest of simmers. She could claim the governorship kept her within city bounds but really, when she could teleport anywhere in the blink of an eye...

Mayhap leaving was the best protection she could provide Hope, from the greatest threat. Herself.

The office door clicked shut softly behind her.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

March 24th

The office door had been left open after the redhead's meeting with Ariana, and until now there had generally been quiet. However, eventually ... late tonight, soft strains begin to waft through the office and into the main room of the Outback itself.

I wish that this night would never be over
There's plenty of time to sleep when we die

Guitar strumming began soft before picking up volume, speed as the the song took hold.

So let's just stay awake until we grow older
If I had my way, we'd never close our eyes, our eyes, never

She'd last sung this song in a magical night in Rome with the woman who'd come to dominate so much of her thoughts and time ... the woman she traditionally shared this office with, no less. It'd been very early in their relationship, only a night or two before the blonde had challenged and become Overlord.

She let the beat take over, sometimes lightly tapping the body of the instrument in time with her bouncing foot.

I don't wanna let a minute get away
'Cause we got no time to lose
None of us are promised to see tomorrow
And what we do is ours to choose

Head bobbed lightly as she began to get lost in the music, the words and dreams behind it. The talk with Tass a few nights ago had turned her mind to this song, to that night, and to those simpler times where she was carefree and knew better than now that time was fleeting and it would be impossible to stop it. Even for love.

Forget about the sunrise
Fight the sleep in your eyes
I don't wanna miss a second with you
Let's stay this way forever
It's only getting better if we want it to

The beat sped, lightly swatting the guitar swifter. Tass was right, wanting to turn her wasn't the answer - even if Hope were to consent to it. It'd only cause the blonde to eventually wage the same internal war he'd - and now she'd - faced. Why would she put either of them through that?

"Find happiness. Don't change her.”

She'd thought stepping back was the answer, that moving out of the blonde's home would help return enough perspective that she could manage with the inevitable loss.

You know that I wish that this night would never be over
There's plenty of time to sleep when we die
So let's just stay awake until we grow older
If I had my way, we'd never close our eyes, our eyes, never

But really, when she'd made it home and pulled the blonde to her and wrapped her arm around Hope so tight it'd caused her to fidget and Jaycy to stroke her hair until she resettled, the redhead knew that she'd never be able to achieve the distance even if she moved physically away.

It's so hard to think this could fade away
But what goes up must come down
Why can't we just live life with no consequence?
And always live in the now

Why not? Why not just ... do that? A slim jade band (with a very particular shade of green) on her right hand touched against the body of her instrument as she kept the beat, repeating the verse, humming instead of singing. Strong chords pushed the music into the Outback's common room, filling it with the acoustic sound.

Forget about the sunrise
Fight the sleep in your eyes
I don't wanna miss a second with you
Let's stay this way forever
It's only getting better if we want it to

I don't wanna miss a second with you. Psly would understand, right? Aye, especially when they had centuries together and the woman likely... didn't. Psly, of course, was a complication. Not a bad problem, but... she had to admit, it was strange seeing both him and Hope in the same space - at her challenge, no less! As much as she'd been thrilled, no small part of her wanted to find time in that skybox.

You know that I wish that this night would never be over
There's plenty of time to sleep when we die
So let's just stay awake until we grow older
If I had my way, we'd never close our eyes, our eyes, never

Plenty of time to sleep when she dies...

"Find happiness.”

The music abruptly stopped at flesh smacked onto the strings, turning to a small hiss as her skin slid along it. A soft plufh failed to pass the doorway as the woman within set down the guitar and picked up her phone instead. Swiftly unlocking it, she sent a text.

Marry me. I know it's crazy, I know you'll say no, I know I shouldn't be asking but I am anyway. But I don't want to miss a second with you while you're here. I want to always be yours. I want to marry you.

A chair scraped against the ground and then a moment later the redhead came briefly into view of the empty Outback... and the door shut.

(( Song is Never Close Our Eyes (Adam Lambert), snippets of conversation taken from play with Tass! ))

[Jaycy Ashleana]

March 19

Hands wrung, clinging close in their entanglement as the redhead paced the marble floor of her suite at the Palace of Pleasures. One, two, three, turn, and one, two, three back again. An appointment made discreetly was perfect here, this paragon of privacy, yet she still remained unnerved by the whole affair. She wasn’t sure wh -- no, she knew why. This appointment symbolized the inevitability of the fatal blow in her relationship with Hope Naharis.

Unwinding her hands, she allowed them to drop and hang limply for a moment before she sank to her knees, shrinking to the cold, unyielding stone. Arms crossed her stomach and she folded protectively over them, her single red braid dipping to the floor over her right shoulder. Instantly, her mind’s eye sped to a night long past, a moment where time had frozen and they, inundated by green butterflies, had made peace and pledges and whispered rumbles of love and want.

Pain had tainted that night, begun with a challenge queue to rid herself of ShadoWeaver, the hellish Black Opal that’d tried to alienate Jaycy from her closest allies and paramours. The hurt cast a few nights previous seeped deep, festering and sodden and heavy in her gut and sent her to the sands before Hope’s split-level house in Dockside in this very position.

"What do you want, Hope? What do you want from me right now?" she’d asked, pained with the insincerity of quick apologies and accidental self-inflicted wounds.

“You.”

This wasn’t a murmured, sweet word but rather a ragged, choked out confession that shook Jaycy’s head in denial, bawled though it was. No, no she didn’t want the redhead; she couldn’t want the monster. That was when she fell to her knees, supplicating. “Why?” she’d begged. Denials cascaded into rejection; Hope’d taken her disbelief as dismissal and retreated to the sea while Jaycy huddled, unseeing but sensing her loss. It’d told her the truth, silence in that anguished query -- the blonde didn’t mean it; the blonde couldn’t even answer that one simple request. But still, she had to know.

"What! You fucking tell me you want me and fucking walk away! What the fuck do you want?!"

Whether it was the words themselves or the despaired tone behind them, something broke the fog and summoned those green wings. Only a few at first, then more and simply more until the air around them was full of them, until they were full of them. Hope’s return and Hope’s arms easing around her wrecked frame began with frigid, unbelievable sadness, until the blonde’s rasped voice blanketed her with words she, the monster, had never hoped for.

"All I ever wanted was you. Just this right here. Us. To do this for as long as we can. Until we can't.... and then some more."

"Hope, my Hope..."

"... you're my choice. I couldn't help but love Psly because of our link and the history, but you ... it's my choice to love you."

Even then she’d wanted forever. She knew even then. She just wasn’t ready to voice it and scare the woman away.

"I'm yours, Hope Naharis. Always yours."

Thick, heated waterdrops stained the marble as they free-fell from her face, smothered when she could no longer bear the weight of her head and it met the ground. Tremors jolted her as sobs started to come thick and heavy and harsh, necessitating great, deep breaths to try and regain some oxygen. It turned out they were at ‘until we can’t’ and all that was left was the little more that would doom them.

But Jaycy would always be hers.

The incessant cheery chime of the intercom brought her to her senses and she slowly, painfully lifted her head. The body followed, bidden to movement by the intrusion into her living nightmare. “Aye?” she finally grated after reaching the button. “He’s here.” Shuddering breath, touching the button once more. “Thanks, I’m ready.” She wasn’t but she couldn’t call it off. Quickly she scrubbed at her face to try and mitigate signs of her interrupted meltdown.

It was a wonder that she was halfway presentable by the time Bo Robbins knocked at her door.

Sighing first, she plastered a small smile on her face and allowed him entry, bobbing her head in greeting as he and his case passed. She hadn’t missed the surprised widening of his eyes as he realized his newest possible customer; in a place where discretion was not only a boon but required for guests they hadn’t warned him of which august personage he’d be displaying his wares for.

“Madam… Governor.” He’d waited until the door was properly closed to accomplish the greeting in full and edged further in. “Jaycy’s fine,” she countered with that lingering upturn of her lips, “.. and well met, m’lord Robbins.”

“Bo’s fine.” The man reassured her with a little chuckle at his cleverness. She waved him toward the open door within the suite, leading him to the office that Tetra had so generously prepared and customized for the woman within her building, one floor below the Signora’s own penthouse. Wisely, he didn’t survey much of the suite on his way to their destination; there was a reason he was trusted by Tetra’s staff and had been invited to make this sale.

She motioned to the wide, uncluttered cherry desk as an invitation to where to settle his case and then moved with him so they could stand shoulder to shoulder in perusal of the bounty within. He opened the lid to reveal two dozen jade bands in shades ranging from almost translucent white to deep, heavy emerald. “I brought the ones I have that are supposed to be your size, but if none of these suit your fancy I’ll go see what else I can find.”

He smiled and continued after sparing a look at her silent form, her green-gold eyes focused on the variety within. She’d asked for plain, simple stone with no adornments and he’d delivered. “So, is this for a special someone? Jade is excellent for attracting money, and for lovers as well. It helps increase trust and supports new love as a grounding, protective stone. Bands like this are often for weddings, especially in younger cou --”

“I’ll take this one. Bill me,” she cut him off, plucking a particular ring from the velvet and slipping it onto her right ring finger to ensure a proper fit. He blinked and she added, finally, in a whisper, “... it’s in and for a memory.”

Bo had the grace to wince as he dropped the lid and secured it. “I’m sor --” The redhead stopped him again with a negating wave of her hand. Taking the hint, he snatched his case and scooted out, leaving her in silence to peer at the ring she now bore.

It was the exact hue of those green butterfly wings.

(( Flashback and conversation taken and adapted from live play with Hope. ))

[Jaycy Ashleana]

(( The Outback, August 13. ))

Restless. She was restless again. And usually when she was restless, she went to work; that was how she found her way from Gloaming and into her office at the Outback.

Who knew how long she’d been there, in the office. However, she eventually made her way out of it and toward the bar with a stack of papers. Grabbing some water, she settled a few moments later on the caller’s couch.

“I need…” Argh. A few moments of staring at the papers and she shook her head. “Argh.”

Sighing, she just dropped the papers on the cushion and pushed to her feet, striding toward the bag. Once she’d come close enough, she took a ready stance, hands balling into fists.

However, she didn’t immediately move, instead just staring at her target. “Damnit.”

Finally though she took a shot, a straight punch with the right, followed by a hook with her left. A few steps back and then in again, alternating hands.

Eventually she began to incorporate kicks, rocking the bag. It didn’t seem her frustration was eased by the activity but rather incensed. “Argh!” Whether a growl of frustration or of power, it escaped as she landed a particularly harsh blow.

“Only…” jab. “… a few more…” thwack! “… days.”

Finally she struck a last hit, spinning and sending the bag swinging with a backfist. She wasn’t holding back, and in ways it might have been surprising it hadn’t flown off its chain. The bag swung back to her and she caught it, sighing and gently loosing it so that it once more hung quietly. “It’s fine. It’ll be better. It’ll be fine.” Mumbled words, even while she shook her head in negation of what she was saying.

“Damnit.” Her gaze swept over the empty space.

“It’ll be fine. They’ll be better.” Repeating, softly, before she padded to the caller’s couch to collect her effects. Once in hand, she disappeared into the office once more. The door ever-so-gently shut behind her.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

(( Seaside Manor, the next day. ))

One of the defining features of Seaside’s manor was its proximity to the populated beach activities, no doubt; but access from the cliff-side to the manned portions was limited and allowed for that private view. The manor itself, walled on 3 sides, was a jewel, lovely and decorated… and a defensible fort. There wasn’t much room between the sharp drop off and the floor-length windows that offered the glorious view to residents inside.

When the time came to meet Morgan LaFey, that was where the redhead was; outside, at the edge of the cliff, seated and with legs dangling over the side.

Morgan came from the beach below, working his way up to the cliff a bit at a time. When he did finally reach the spot where Jaycy sat so casually, he stood somewhat behind her and clutched the towel draped over one shoulder. He kicked his flip flops off and dropped the towel on top before he settled heavily next to the woman with a soft and airy grunt.

"Still the best view in Rhydin." He said with a smirk, looking to Jaycy.

“Mm,” the redhead concurred with the soft, short murr. “Of all the Baronies I’ve held since they’ve been attached to districts and granted properties, Seaside has always been the most … home. It’s been a shame I haven’t been able to give it the care it deserves this reign. I hope whoever holds it next is a good guardian for both the manor and the people here.”

It was another few minutes before she allowed her gaze to drift from the waters below and distant to meet the acrobat’s look. “Thank you for coming. I need you to do me a few favors, please.” The words spoken were quiet, soft, and even a little sad.

"I think you've been doing an okay job..." he said as he scooted his butt closer so that their hips touched, side by side. His soft smile fell at the look, the request.

"I can try... what's wrong?"

For a moment she stiffened at the contact, freezing minutely before she exhaled a breath and either forced or allowed herself to relax, and leaned into him instead. The side of her head tapped his lightly, settling there as her gaze returned to the sea, her hands clasped in her lap and a pair of fingers from the left twisting the jade ring on the right.

“I’m leaving.” The words hung for several seconds before she elaborated. “Rhydin, for a while, anyway.”

Morgan was quiet for a few moments as she settled against him. He did not know if the hesitation was because his skin was so cold, or for other reasons, but he didn't say anything of it. He looked out to sea with Jaycy, and reached to settle one hand on her hands.

"Where you gonna go?" He asked curiously. There were plenty of other questions to be asked... he just wasn't sure he was ready to ask some of them yet.

Morgan was the third person to ask a version of that question since Jaycy'd begun to grow more convinced that this was what had to be done; he was the first that she'd laid bald her intention and the first she'd answer honestly. The words came with a tired sigh, though, and the right hand eased from the pile so she could cover his, sandwiching it, and lightly brush fingertips over the back of it.

"I don't know... mayhaps trying to find out more about the Opals. Or the Emerald Isles. Or Terra; Earth. Or what humans call Hell. Just ... away." The farther shoulder, unconnected to him, lifted a little in a shrug.

Morgan's fingers wrapped gently as their hands became a tangle, and he looked over at her. "Everyone is gonna miss you..." he chewed his lip a moment before looking back out to sea.

"Can we come visit sometimes? Wherever you go?"

Something made her flinch, a bodily contraction that the acrobat no doubt felt, given their closeness. Just a momentary jerk, though, before she relaxed once more. "No, love," she murmured. "That's a bit of the point of my leaving." She was running again, it seemed; the pendulum had swung once more, arcing toward her mental frame on the night they'd been at the colosseum, to where she'd tried to forget (albeit through physical exertion before).

Only this time she wasn't drunk and she was planning the complete opposite response. "That's why I need the favors. One should be easy enough, and the other ... not necessarily difficult either." She still wouldn't look at him.

Again, the young man fell into a thoughtful silence. "Oh." He finally managed. "I'm gonna miss you more, then." He frowned, and sighed. his hand tightened around hers, and he pulled them into his lap as if that would keep her there with him. "Better not to tell me where you're going, then..."

He bit his lip once more, then nodded without prompting. "Okay. What do you need me to do? We can make this the biggest escape of all time."

At least he hadn't asked why; that one word might have unraveled her resolve. As it was, his admission and placement of their hands elicited a single sob and only then did she look at him again. Unsurprisingly, tears had tracked messy trails down her cheeks and the corners of her green-gold eyes glittered with wet. "No, no escape. I'll say goodbye." To a select few, with letters, no doubt... she'd never be able to face them in person. Especially her. It'll be fine. They'll be better.

"Just keep an eye on the Tyger, please." That, likely, was the 'easy enough' request as her ship already flew in conjunction with his and it was mostly self-sufficient on its own. However, she knew the temptation for sloth and even corruption could happen among the best of beings when left unchecked.

"And Silas... he's my son. He's... an adult, but really just. And really just starting to explore life, new come to the duels. I'm not asking you to babysit him, but if you see him... please get to know him, mayhap, and give him a chance for a friend, if you like him?" It wasn't that he couldn't make friends on his own, but he was in many ways as shy as his father and she trusted Morgan to have a good chance to gently draw him out of his shell and gain allies in the city.

He looked over, and frowned to see the tears. He reached back to grab hi towel, and dabbed at her cheek before drawing Jaycy into a hug completely, twisting himself so that he could hold her tight. His chin rested on her shoulder, and he sighed.

"Silas." He repeated the name. "I'll keep an eye out." There was a smile in his voice, though it was sad.

"Will you come back?"

The embrace gave her a literal shoulder to cry on and she took advantage, ruining his work of drying her face in mere moments. Her arms closed around his midsection and she clung, albeit briefly. She managed to compose herself and mumble into him. "I plan to, mayhap after the new year. Just long enough...." Trailing off, she minutely shook her head before pulling back a little.

"This is all just plans, I guess I should say. I can't - won't - leave while Hope's Overlord. I have to see that through." While she didn't know when that would be, she knew the blonde was only a few days away from the one year benchmark Hope had set and who knew what would happen after that.

Jaycy paused and then sighed, having mostly recovered from her fit. "Don't tell Mart or Tass I'm leaving, please?" A third request, spontaneous, slipped from her lips.

He hummed and held her as tight as he dared, letting her cry and petting her head rather gently. It took him a long time to answer her third request, with not so much answer as warning.

"They'll figure it out..."

"Get married soon, aye? Make both of you happier." Jaycy made a swift subject change, one that even brought the tiniest of smiles to her lips. "You, because you'll feel more secure, and Mart, because, well... Mart is love." She waited a beat and then added, "... and do it in front of your friends, like Karma, because otherwise w -- they'd plan one for you." She should know. "... and because they deserve to share that love with you, aye?"

There was a throaty laugh, and Morgan drew away, wiping at his nose as he sniffed hard. "You're not giving me much time to work with, here. You act like I've had this wedding planned for months, or something." He laughed again, and brushed the loc of hair behind his ear.

"I'm excited... but I don't want to rush it. I want it to be... perfect. For both of us. For him, mostly." He licked his lips, and sniffled again, looking to Jaycy. "But I also want you to be there, when we celebrate. I know he'll want that, too."

The smile slipped, and she looked away again, turning her torso to face the sea once more. "We'll just have to have a second celebration." Don't wait for me, she implied, despite her claims that she intended to return.

"Celebrations all day, every day, just in case." He laughed. "Think I won't marry Mart every day. I'd sell everything to do it." He shook his head at his own silly declaration, and leaned against her, looking to the water.

Unable or unwilling to follow that trail of conversation any longer, the redhead jolted into another conversation completely.

(( Written with Morgan LaFey’s player, thank you! ))

[Jaycy Ashleana]

August 23rd

Sound had ceased from the common area some time ago but the redhead had waited behind the door, patient and cautious. The last several nights she’d worked late into them at the Outback, journeying into the large space when time meant the least and darkness was deepest to contemplate the state of things. The fighting places, both here and Arena, had served as her best “thinking spot” for so many years and she gravitated to them unerringly when weighty matters consumed.

She hadn’t been restless, though, these last several days. Perhaps finally confessing her intentions and plans to Morgan LaFey had broken the dam and now she’d found the peace and lightness of one who knew they were nearing their last moments. Oh, it wasn’t perfect; it still hurt to see her friends so comfortable and happy with each other but she’d found time and pleasure to laugh and smile and even joke with people. It was with a little smile that she finally emerged from her office, confident that emptiness would await her.

For a change she didn’t disguise her reason for occupying the common area; she wasn’t burdened with papers or other work on her way to the bar for a bottle of water.

It was habit that set her leaning against the bar from behind it once she’d procured her drink, a side settled haphazardly against the edge of it while she cracked open the top and took the first refreshing sip. The redhead swallowed and took a quick second gulp before capping the bottle and settling it on the bar near at hand.

Hope had officially made a year as Overlord a few hours prior; the thought turned a wry twist to the smile that curved her lips and she bowed her head in silent acknowledgement of the feat. She was proud, so proud, of the blonde, and so happy for her. But its arrival meant the days were truly measured and likely counted on two hands. She couldn’t stall much longer, plans needed to be lain so that she could muster the courage to go.

Morgan had asked where she would go and she hadn’t had a true answer. Possibilities, aye, but nothing concrete. Earthen Hell? Deserved, but… why? There were more productive ways to make herself suffer … at least productive for other people. The Emerald Isles? Mm. She’d be welcome, of course, but it was too close to Tass and much better than she’d deserve. There would be no purpose, no penance, in the Isles. She’d simply hide, with no change to her (or anyone’s) life.

She shook her head, the ponytail swaying faintly in the motion.

The Opals.

Jaycy’s gaze tracked across the silent expanse to each of the rings in turn, each ‘special’ ring that had so recently contained and exuded remnants of the Opals from the shattering and subsequent reformation. Old rings; The Pit and The Fern. New ones; The Pond, The Wheel, and that damned Boiler down”stairs.” There was so much they still didn’t know about the Opals - who or what they really were, why they were here (this time by choice, no less), what could they do and where were their limits, and what they wanted and why they wanted it, to name a few questions.

Perhaps that was where she could and should go… hunting for answers.

She moved from behind the bar, water left behind as she padded toward the most beloved of rings for her. The giant plant had risen one day under mysterious circumstances, sprouted during a shift in which magic had gone rogue. At least that’s what she’d remembered. It’s taken months, a year likely, before they’d determined that not only would the fronds prove sturdy enough to bear fighters’ weight but that they should. In a history where the Outback’s callers had designed special, unique rings during their tenure, this had been her contribution.

Smiling fondly, she brushed fingertips featherlight over the glossy green before taking hold of a stem’s thorn and climbing its heights.

Curious, too, she thought, was the Black Diamond. There was something there, something odd and strange and mixed up in the Opals for some very obvious reasons. It lacked the same sentience - likely for the better - of the other gems that had essentially created it, however. But … that didn’t mean that it would never become more self-aware.

She sighed as she stretched out along a middling frond, obscured from easy and casual vision on the ground. Her back rested against the thick stem and she utilized a thorn as an armrest, tilting her head back and crossing her legs at the ankles as her eyes drifted shut.

Aye; mayhap that was the best course, to couch her departure on a finding mission that could possibly help the sport and her friends. She would tell Hope the truth of it, the truth of why she’d leave, but there was no sorrow in taking advantage of her departure by doing something that could provide a greater good, aye? It’d give her a reason to come back and a chance to not make herself a liar to the acrobat. Just… she could only hope it’d be enough, that she could come home and back to work with the blonde.

But that was a worry for future her; she still had up to two weeks before she could disappear.

Eventually she fell asleep, ensconced in the plant and the darkness surrounding her.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

August 25th

Some days it was easier to pretend than others. Tonight had not been one of those days, when Droet and Tass had joined her in the Outback. She managed it, however, until the tiefling had gone. Then, she slumped against the bar, weary with the pretense, and fell into her thoughts once more.

It'd already happened, sooner than she'd expected. It didn't matter that she had expected it; the pretense of normalcy needed to be kept until it was done ... and now, it seemed, until she'd faced Morgan for the Blue Opal. No doubt that match would be soon, hopefully very soon, but it meant that she couldn't leave as she'd planned to the night Hope ceased her reign as Overlord. There was some small part of her that had hoped the blonde would make one last defense, that there would be more time, but she knew that Hope Naharis was weary, and ready, and it was right.

But that meant the last grains of 'and then some more' were about to run out.

"Damnit, Jaycy," she cursed, the words choked out even as she shook her head in some silent denial or negation. It'll be fine. She'll be better. The mantra wasn't spoken out loud but it repeated within, chilling her as the weight of her words piled on her heart. A hand touched stomach and then pressed in and she folded forward, head bowed while she allowed the tear to fall freely to her feet. "I need..." Sniff. "... need to write her. Need..." Sniff. "... write everyone. Move things out...." Sob. "... the Palace..."

The captain entered quietly enough, and paused at the door when he peered in. He thought he'd see drinking. Black eyes and laughter. Congratulatory pats or gentle consolations. He did not expect his friend to be there by herself, not did he expect to catch her crying. Amber eyes widened, and he stepped in fully, pushing through the entrance and frowning.

"Jaycy... everything okay?" He called out carefully.

Shit.

It took a few seconds for her to register that not only had someone entered (oh, right, it wasn't that late) but that it was someone she knew and that someone had seen her in this current state of ... mess. The redhead quickly sucked in a breath and lifted her head, snapping to the direction of the voice. "Mo... Morgan." She couldn't quite manage his full name on the first go, caught by the hiccup.

"I... aye, I'm fine." Also a terrible liar, it seemed.

The small man hesitated before a look of deep sorrow took his confusion. "Oh... oh, baby..." he crossed the space between entrance to bar rather quickly, considering his legs were not quite stilts. "Bullshit." He said as he approached, though it held no venom at all.

The once acrobat hopped up onto the bar and over with an almost feline grace, becoming something more serpentine as he slithered down to the floor on the other side. Standing right next to the woman now, he drifted quite close, and wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was chilly, and yet quite warm.

"What's wrong?"

From a second hiccup to full-on sob in the time it took for him to envelop her, she figuratively crumbled. Fisted hands curved around his midsection so she could hug his frame, pull in close, and bury her face in his shoulder. This was the second time in a matter of days that she found herself broken and soaking his shoulder and this time she didn't hurry to pull back and reassure him.

Finally, though, it started to ease, after so many minutes, and the hiccups returned, dotted with sniffles. She didn't lift her head when she began to talk, choosing instead to pass her woes to his cooler flesh rather than open air.

I'm... I'm just go --" Hiccup. "... going to miss..." Damnit. "... going to miss everyone here. Even though..." Squeeze. "... even though I know.... know I need to..."

She hadn't divulged her intention to end things with anyone, that she could remember. Even when she'd warned Morgan of her impending departure she hadn't elaborated. Nor did she here. At least not yet.

Morgan held Jaycy tight, and rested his head on hers as she cried. His palms slid up and down her back as she shook with the sobs, and arms tucked in to cradle her as well as he could. His lips pressed into her hair as it slowed, and he sighed softly. As she spoke, fingers gently combed through her hair.

"Do you?" he asked softly. Almost a whisper.

"A.. aye," she finally mumbled, finding the word much easier to say when she didn't have to look him in the eye. "Hope's not Overlord anymore. I just..." Sob. "... break..." She'd almost started again, had started again, but she reined it in quicker. "The... the reasons are stil... still there. I have… have to go."

When she finally thought she could look at him, she lifted her dirty, stained face. "I have to go," she repeated again, green-gold eyes finally seeking amber as she silently pled for his understanding, for once all of her fears and doubts plain to see.

Morgan's frown deepened, an almost grimace into the empty air behind her. His eyes drifted closed as he settled his hand on the back of her head. "Oh... baby.” His voice was soft, and suddenly... quite understanding. Hadn't he been here? Hadn't he needed to run? More than once, even. He knew the toll that things could take. He knew the ties that often got cut, when things went this way. He pulled back, and tugged a long sleeve over his hand and wiping at Jaycy's cheeks as he looked her in the eyes.

"How can I help?" His face moved from sympathetic to something more determined. The lilt in his voice hardened, and the pitch fell. This was the Morgan that knew when shit needed to get done.

"I..." Brows knit as the practical tone took center stage; she too had an unconscious ability to switch into 'work' mode that allowed emotions to fall to the back burner. Her head, though, turned into the sleeve in a lingering need for comfort.

"I... need to take my things out... need to..." At least her face was dry, even if still dirty. "I have to do it the night I leave. I..." She frowned. "I can't be here and not be there.” The admission was soft, shamed. "I'm going to leave her a letter." Cheeks flushed and she ducked her head, mumbling. "I... can't otherwise."

He blew a slow breath, and thumbed the lower lid of her left eye, resting his palm against her cheek. There was the hint of a nod. "I don't mind moving a few things. I can even get the crew on it. We can have you out in..." He thought on it. "An hour. Tops." He stepped back, and flung his arms in a way that ruffled the big sleeves of his shirt, and grabbed a bottle of thick spiced rum. The bottle was dusty... And he figured it couldn't hurt. He grabbed a couple of glasses and set them on the bar, then filled each tumbler nearly to the rim before hopping his rear onto the bar and setting the bottle aside.

"Did you figure out where you'll go?" It was more curiosity, than anything. He didn't think he'd ask where.

Her own glass didn't last long; even though it wouldn't affect her, she plucked it from the bar and, tilting her head back, downed it in one shot. And immediately went into a coughing fit from the hard swallow. "Go... gods why do I even..." Cough. "... drink this shit." All the same, she extended a hand for the bottle so she could make an immediate refill.

Fortified, she turned to the much easier answer. She had a goal, now. "I'm going hunting for information on the Opals." Her cheeks tinged pink again and she turned a grin on him - albeit a sheepish one. "I am sorry I challenged, love. I think the best way to get information is to go with an Opal, and I think... I feel… I need to be bonded with it to really get anywhere. I can't remember a time when the Opals have been cooperative with me when I wasn't."

He took a sip, and lips pursed as he pulled the glass away, smacking his tongue a few times. "It's not that bad... " He said with a shrug. And then took another, longer drink as he looked over to her. "Don't apologize. It was bound to happen anyway, right? I've had her a bit... People 'round here thirsty as fuck." He smirked, and took another sip of the rum.

"I don't hate dueling with you, you know. The challenges are the best part of this whole fucking..." He waved a hand in a vague circle. "This whole fucking thing. Not the shit politics, the fake smiles... none of that. It's the challenge. The... Big fight. The show. And if I get to do it with a friend?" He lifted his glass to her. "Even better."

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Her tumbler refilled, she raised it in an echoed salute. "You're right. I just know it's been helpful to you. But you're right, we can give people a show again." Her face fell, though, and she quickly took another (but more reasonable) drink. "Win or lose, I'm leaving the night we fight." Sighing, her voice dropped at the revelation... even if it was something he likely already suspected.

Her gaze drifted, unconsciously to the clock, and she swore. "Damnit, I'm sorry, Morgan. Were you coming here looking for a duel? Did I ruin that?"

"I've learned a lot." He sipped at his drink, and popped his lips, adding quickly: "Mm. Not that... I learned everything. But hey... Who knows... Maybe I'll get her back, if I lose her. Maybe I won't need to." He licked at a droplet spilled on his thumb, and shrugged. "Not exactly chasing the endless knowledge all these titles provide."

No... Morgan was a collector of building blocks, and of those things that more bookish types rarely ever thought to touch on, in their libraries.

Her closer hand extended, aimed for a nearer knee, just to touch briefly with her knuckles. "I'm glad you haven't been taken by the Opal, Morgan. I know we talked about how it changed you some, but... I'm glad you're not lost to it." A soft, sad smile. "If you didn't have Mart, and if I did know when I'd come ba -- when I'd be able to be here again - I'd ask you to come with me."

Morgan laughed lightly at the tap and the words that came with it. "Are you kidding me? Gonna take more than a rock to turn me into a zombie." So very flippant he was about it... he said nothing of how worried he'd been when he received the opal. When he'd finally ventured to speak to it, to preemptively make some sort of contact. It hadn't been entirely pleasant, of course... touch was different, so many things were shifted off to one side in his mind. Not gone, and unaltered... just a bit... to the left. Or the right. Or rather, it was like a path made through a hoarder's house, towering walls of everything on each side, held together purely by the frost that reached into him.

He paused mid-sip, and frowned. "Right. Speaking of. You gotta tell him, Jayc. Please. You told me not to, and like..." he groaned. "You know how hard that is? I... I haven't, but..." he let the sentence trail off, shrugging.

"I..." Cue another short string of swears. "Aye," she finally said again, relenting. "It'll be easier, now, now that I have something in mind, something I can do for the Outback. I don't think he'll be upset about that." He shouldn't, right? "I'm sorry I asked you to not tell him, love. That was wrong of me." Another drink followed the sigh and the guilty look she passed to him.

"Tass somehow knows too." Somehow. Right. "He was here tonight talking about wanting to talk to me about what I was considering. But he was just ... odd. Even for Tass."

He nodded. "Thanks. I was this close to panic blurting it. So close. Like... phooooo." He hunched a bit with the relief, and then gave a long, dramatic sigh at the mention of Tass.

"I bet he fuckin' does..." he murmured, and then raised an eyebrow. "What the hell could possibly be weird for Tass?” he really wouldn't know. The man was forever a strange sort of mystery. Maybe it's just the sort of thing that happened when you lived that long.

"When I'd asked him how he was, he said..." Her voice shifted, to a moderately reasonable imitation of his. ”I am as I always have been, though I have not been as I am.”

"And then he said..." Again she mimicked him. “Question is, what to do with this one when that one ... does what she is considering?”

She frowned. "Cryptic, even for him." Finishing the second glass with a long gulp, she coughed and pounded her chest before setting the tumbler on the bar. "Ugh." Slowly her gaze tracked up toward amber again. "Morgan, I don't want to go," she confessed, tiny, and the corners of her eyes sparkled again with wet. "... I have to, but I don't want to."

He narrowed his eyes as if trying to understand... and then shook his head. "Man... no clue. Maybe he needed a nap? Or his clothes were too..." he waved a hand “Clothey.” His eyebrows knit when she made her confession, and he sighed, placing his hand on hers and twisting to lean closer.

"The only one forcing you to go is you. You could stay here. I could help you get your stuff where you want it... then... then we rearrange everything. We could do... anything. We could go on an entire opal spree. Really grill those fuckers--" he shuddered. "No offense."

"I've asked to chuck them to faraway places a few times, even recently, so none taken." For just a flash she had life, amusement, but it faded as the light fell from her eyes. "I saw what I did to her, I wore her out, I was hoarding her... and I was just being myself." She leaned in, toward him, accepting comfort when it was offered.

"I hate it when Tass is right." Another brief spark, chased by a weak chuckle. "Mayhap I should take him with me. Or whatever insane version of him that was here tonight."

He started to say something, but stopped himself, and listened instead. He frowned, and looked away. "Sometimes... No matter how much we want it to work out..." He shook his head. "It doesn't. But... That... That doesn't mean it's the end. You never know what's coming for you, Jaycy. And I don't mean the bullshit, you know? I mean like..." He hunched forward and folded his arms between his trunk and his legs, licking his lips. "Sometimes we have to lose something we think we want... So we can see what we need."

He looked over to her again, and shrugged lightly. "Company never hurts. Being alone... Kinda sucks, sometimes."

Silence settled between them for long seconds, the redhead turned to staring at a wall, contemplating the wisdom of his words and coming to terms with her vision of what they meant - that, indeed, she had to go. There was no other translation, no other way. Swallowing, her eyes closed, lids fluttering shut.

"Sometimes being alone is all we deserve. I should go start writing, now." She jerked upright from her prior slump against the bar, and began a stiff walk toward her office.

"Thank you, Morgan, and good night, love. We'll have lunch soon, aye, to figure out a date for our dance?" She'd waited until she was a good distance away, withdrawn physically, before she turned to face him with her final questions.

"Nobody deserves that." He said to her rapidly retreating form. His brow furrowed, and he nearly added more when she blindsided him with a sudden slap of mundane to his brain. It immediately went to details that still needed to be planned out.

"Ah... right... g-goodnight..." it was during this sputtered derailing that he realized he'd been bamboozled. "Fine. Yeah. Soon. Love you, Jayc. Good luck on your letter." He looked down to his drink, and tipped it up to empty it. Was that bottle still around?

She'd left the bottle between them, her own glass unattended and carelessly left for someone else to clean the mess next to it.

Granting the Captain a final nod, she turned her back on him and padded the rest of the way to the office, ever-so-gently closing the door behind her.

Once she sat down at her desk, she pulled out a plain piece of paper and a pen, staring at the pale blank surface for what seemed close to an hour. Thick teardrops dotted the surface, staining it before she ever set words to it. Finally, though, the nib touched the waiting sheet.

Hope -, it began.

(( Taken from live play with Morgan LaFey, with snippets from play with Tass! ))

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Hope -

I love you. I know you know that but I’m not sure if you truly understand the depths of it. I’m not sure if I really understand the depths of it. The are a few things I do know. I loved you quickly; I think I fell in love with you the moment you, not really knowing anything, wrapped your arms around me and told me it was okay, that I was okay. I know I was in love with you not long after even if I can’t pinpoint a moment that was ‘it.’ A year later, just more than a year, and I am more in love with you than even then … and I loved you deeply, desperately, from the beginning. You saved me in ways I couldn’t fathom then and I’m not sure I really do now but you saved me that night and so many days since. For a long time, every time the world and the weight of all I had done while under ShdaoWeaver’s influence got too hard to bear, you pulled me back from suicidal precipice without even trying or likely even conscious thought… a smile, a gaze, the curve of your body pressed against mine. Your hand, in mine.

In return, I wanted to protect you. Not from harm; I know how amazingly well you can protect yourself. I wanted to protect your happiness. I knew how much you wanted it, to be the pinnacle, to show you were the best. And when you won, you were so happy. And gods, Hope, I was so proud of you that day. I’m still prouder of you than I can really say for how you’ve carried yourself the last year. From the day you attained Overlord, from how happy I saw reaching that made you, I wanted to protect that happiness because it was the least I could do after you’d done for me.

As the months wore on, the need to protect you and keep you as Overlord (keep your happiness) began to consume me and I schemed, and plotted. Even as I did that I my obsession with having you forever with me grew; I never wanted to lose you. I even thought of taking PathFinder and making you as relatively immortal as I am, making you a dragon like the Opal made me. At least eventually I realized how bad that might be, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want forever with you still. Or at least as much of your life as I could have. I was hoarding you, like Tass said I would. And everything I was doing just wore you out, made you tired of it all and ready to be done. I saw it in every sigh, or look, after every challenge you met. But we both kept going. And now, you’ve had a year, we’ve had a year, and you’re finally free from the politics and scheming I forced on you and your consequences for my actions.

I love you so very much, and I’m leaving ‘us’ and Rhydin because of that.

Because you deserve better, because you deserve peace. And you deserve a lover who can be your partner, not the monster I’ve been. I am so very sorry that things have turned out this way; I didn’t mean for any of it. I just ended up being the monster I was trying not to be for you. And I can’t help myself, I’m going to keep protecting your happiness; just this time I’m protecting you from me. I said I would always be yours, and this holds true. I would have given everything I could up for you if you’d wanted me to but you’ve always been generous enough never to ask me. Other people have known it, and seen it, and offered to stop seeing me because of how much they knew I’m yours. I always will be. And the best thing I can do is let you be. I realize that now. You were, and are, my choice. But you didn’t choose this. 

I’m leaving Rhydin because that’s the only way I can think of to really let you go… if I stay here, you’ll never get the peace you deserve now because I’ll keep trying to stay in your life because I don’t want to leave you but I need to. Morgan said that to me tonight, that sometimes we have to lose what we think we want to know what we need. I’m leaving tonight. I have to warn you, though, I plan on coming back in a few months after I finish the mission I gave myself, to find out more information about the Opals. Hopefully that’ll be enough time.

I love you. I am sorry. I will miss you. I wish you true happiness, Phoenix.




Jaycy refolded the already-worn sheet of paper after reading it again and tilted her hip to allow the letter stowage in the back pocket of her jeans. She then sunk into a corner of the back room of the Outback, arms pulling knees in tight, so she could wail undisturbed.