It had been 2 days since she had come to this festival, and her eyes were already getting used to the colours that surrounded her. She had become familiar with several people in her tribe, thorugh petra's help, and even some that weren't in her tribe through Jerzy's friendship. Wendy was doing pretty well, all things considered. She kept herself busy, helping out in all sorts of mundane tasks and cleaning things when she could find the work. Surprisingly, there weren't that many things to be cleaned. Wick daoa's usually kept orderly homes-- and if they didn't that was how they liked it, dammit, and I won't have any chit messing it up.

And she had been fine, for the most part. The past four days, on the road and in the festival-- she had kept busy enough to keep most of her demons away. It wasn't until she accidentally caught two wicks kissing in the shadows that memories began to resurface.

"Ah. Oh! Excuse me," she had said, and rushed away, her ears burning and her stomach in knots. She had never had that sort of love.

Because it wasn't allowed, Wendy reminded herself as she walked past stalls of people without really looking. Music wafted around her, laughter, eager chatter. She didn't pay attention to any of it, because she was there again.

She was there, in the cafeteria and he was on the floor. There was blood on her apron. There was blood on her hands. Wendy turned her head and looked into Bronley's eyes and gasped.

No! That's not there. It's a wick. Shh. She calmed herself. Reminded herself of where she was. But the memory was still flooding back. It wasn't finished with her. She half wondered if it would ever be finished with her.

Instead of trying to weave her way through the main market she took a right and bumped into a man. "S-sorry!" she said absently, walking away quickly without waiting for his response. Tears were beginning build up along her eyelids and Wendy gasped again, and moved until she was out of the crowds

She walked quickly, holding her shoulders until she got to an even clearer area. It wasn't until she felt sure nobody could see her that she sat down and hid her face in her hands, letting tears quietly run out of her eyes and taking deep shuddering breaths.

She could see him. She could see him teasing her, and holding her, and yelling at her. Wendy could see him when he was hurt, and when he was angry. How dare they? How dare they take him from me? And then, Petra will think I've lost a gear.

But the hardly seemed to matter. Whenever Wendy felt like this she left, to cry in silence, and if her eyes were a little redder, and her voice a little more quavery Petra was wise enough not to mention it. Wendy had a hard enough time showing how she felt, after a lifetime of concealing her feelings.

And sometimes that came back and tried to kill her. Like it was doing now. She looked down at her hands and almost flinched away when she saw blood.

Just the reflections from the torches.

And it was all of us. We all killed him. Us stupid bastard passives killed him because we didn't speak up. Because we don't speak up.

A cool breeze made her hair fly across her face and Wendy shivered.

Because we cry in silence.

But even as she thought this, she felt shame in her tears. She didn't want to think about this. She didn't want to think about things she couldn't change. Her own self pity disgusted her.

"I'm stronger than this...even...even if I'm alone again..." she murmured, clenching her fists.

And was she alone again? She had Petra and Rosie... but she would have to leave them eventually...the few friends she had were far in between and fleeting. The thought made her heart wrench, and Wendy closed her eyes. She hugged herself, willing herself into the state of calmness she was usually in. Please Goddess...Guide me through these dark times.

Standing in the lee of a building, Viator muched on the delicious fruit from one of the stands. It was magenta, and inside the seeds all had a sweet casing that tingled on the tongue. He'd heard it called many things, but this time 'round it was called a pomegranate.

No wonder so many come here. It's like tasting the world w'out ever leavin' Anaxas. Here he was, surrounded by wicks and witches, a flurry of colors everywhere. He felt very bland in his leather leggings and bound tunic... but bland wasn't bad. One more seed went into his mouth, staining his lips a bit. Laughing to himself, he shoved away from his shadowy hiding spot and onto the street, where a vendor of daggers caught his eye. Pulling out one of his own, he looked it over with a sigh. I could really do with some new ones. These were gifts... but chipped blades won't do much...


Viator started, looking up from the his dagger which had sliced open his palm in the impact. She was upset... and a passive. He knew the feeling of 'absence' well enough to see it in others. Thoughtlessly lapping at the cut on his hand, he followed a ways behind her. Passives existed in wicks, sure... but she'd said sorry, not epaemo. Sorry.

She paused in the alley, and he hung back, hiding in the crowds. Her hair looked black in the low lighting, her clothes lost their hue. She was just a girl, all alone in the world, in a place where no one could understand her. Does she have secrets too? Flights of fancy said she did. She's never been in love. She will never be free to live without fear. Caged animals never forget bars.

We are the same, stranger. And Strangers like us don't get the happy endings we deserve. Bringing the cut to his lips again, he stepped forward a bit. In this light, with blackened hair and colorless shadows, she almost looked like... he paused. No. Life's not that kind. It's not. He took a chance with this, and hoped only he would not regret it.

"Lass, r'you alright?" He held his hands up appeasingly, forgetting for a moment that they were now both covered in the blood from the gash.

Wendy didn't notice the approaching stranger until he spoke, and jumped when he did, spinning around and then gasping. Her words were lost in her throat as she started at the bloody hands. She backed up a step and nearly fell as she she stumbled back. A small 'hah' of fear, came out in a quick breath as she looked up at Viator's hands. Her breathing became shallower and her body tensed as if she considered running. Can you run from the devil? Tears streamed down from Wendy's eyes as she remembered everything-- again.

She looked up from the hands to the face and then gasped again, her expression going from fear to wonder. Recognition was written on her face, suddenly.

I know your face.

"I--" She couldn't speak, and now she was taking a step forward, staring into the face in awe, "It's-- It's you." Her eyes glanced back down at the bloody hands. She had never been a superstitious sort of person, but this truly had to be a sign. Brown eyes gazed up at the face again. It was her. She knew it as well as she knew her own name.

"Adalare." She murmured, "Adalare, it's me! It's-- It's Wendy!" She whispered her own name, keeping in mind that most people here knew her as 'Venadi'. Always we are hiding.

The more she looked at the man the more she was entirely sure that it was Adalare. Changed, and yet still her. Her hands went up to wipe the wetness on her face self consciously. After all this time, she realized she didn't really have much to say. Words seemed insufficient. An insult to what she was feeling.

"You're...okay." Wendy sniffed, trying to take control of herself and finding that she couldn't. Instead she launched herself at her old friend and clasped her arms around her tightly. "I had hoped you were!" she whispered into Adalare's ear.

Goddess above it is her. Heaven had fallen on Viator, and now he was struggling to stand underneath it's beautiful, unexpected but oh so glorious weight. The name flooded her mind like rain on a desert; Wendy. Wendy. Wendy...

The girl's (no longer a girl, he saw, a woman, grown and beautiful even in the garish wick garb) expression was hidden in the dark, though he had seen a shift, and fear shout through his body. Tremulous hope and unyielding despair warring over the fate of his heart. Alioe. Wendy. The names rang with equal fervor and piety within him.

Please... please don't hate me Wendy. I had to... I should have... Wendy, oh Alioe. Oh Wendy.


Adalare.

I-- I'm Adalare. I am Adalare...

Tears. Hot liquid tears. He--She? She hadn't cried in so long... happiness gushed from her eyes, scalding her mask to reveal the truth. Running a hand over her hair, the blood smeared through it's subdued gold and she found there was nothing to say.

It was usually about this time that she (he) woke up, cold and alone in the middle of open water surrounded by nothing but the ocean of guilt that carried her on, into the horizon...


"Oh Goddess it's not a dream." Adalare pulled Wendy close, ignoring the blood on her hands, ignoring the tears on her face and the dryness of her lips as she pressed them to Wendy's cheek. All her world consisted of was a blue-and-black haired passive named Wendy, who long ago had been the little girl that Adalare had known and loved.

"Wendy, Wendy Wendy Wendy Wendy--" She said the name like a mantra, rocking with the girl in her arms, slow tears slowly becoming full, wracking sobs. Clinging to the younger girl, she gasped between loud, noisy sobs. "Wendy-- oh was s-s-s-sso worr-ried-- ah g-goddess wah-" She shook, unable to fight the force of her own gale. Control sank below the waves of emotion, and Adalare held her close, hand at the back of Wendy's dress, clawed into the fabric as her crying grew painful.

"Wendy--" the force died somewhat, and she finally drew back long enough to look at the girl. "Wendy... you're all grown up, Wendy." She didn't know why, but it made her smile. All grown up.

And FREE.

The passive closed her eyes, holding Adalare close, "No! Never!" she whispered happily, feeling like her chest could burst. Wendy couldn't help smiling. They had never been able to do this, at Brunhold. But tonight there was no point in masking emotions. She couldn't have managed it even if she had been held at swordspoint.



"Shhhh, shhhhh, Adalare, shhhhh. It's okay, it's okay, love. You're here, I'm here, shhh shhh." Wendy didn't think about what she was saying, only rocked the older girl back and forth, holding her just as tightly as she was being held. "Shhhhh shhhh shh. I'm okay. I thought-- I was so glad--" But the younger woman still couldn't speak, feeling her throat close and letting out a little strangled noise. Wendy didn't like to cry, but tonight didn't seem to be her night. She suppressed the noise by hiding her face in Adalare's shoulder.



Wendy felt the other girl control herself, and did the same, drawing back to claw at her face. She gave Adalare a watery smile, sniffing, "Me? Look at you. You're--" she laughed, realizing she hadn't really looked, "Well your hair! B- hahaha both of our hairs!"

As if that's the only thing that's changed! A bubble of laughter escaped through Wendy's mouth and she felt herself dissolve into giggles, "Adalare I--!" She couldn't finish and proceeded to hug the other girl again, fiercely. "I can't believe-- Alioe must have taken pity on me!" She sniffed and laughed again, grasping Adalare's hands and wincing when she felt wetness, "Oh! Your hands."

The back of her stomach squirmed and Wendy looked a little dizzy. "Um. We should...get that taken care of." She murmured in a manner that almost seemed evasive. The passive broke herself away from the mood quickly, barely acknowledging what she felt.

"Later, later! I'm-- I'm so glad you're alive! I had hoped-- I always told myself you were but it's one thing to say it and quite another one entirely to see it!!!" Wendy grinned, "I've got to take you to meet Petra later! She's-- She's taking care of me. She's-- well I think she's a friend." Wendy was always careful about what she called the people she knew, and although they always assured her she was their friend, she could never really see why, and usually thought they were just saying things to make her feel included.

"So where-- Adalare, where did you go?! You're free! You've-- you got away!" She refused to address the reason of her escape, and skirted around that subject as well, "From Brunhold! From--" she laughed, "From the Matron!!!"

Adalare (would she ever get used to hearing that name uttered again?) laughed, touching the odd pigtails, running a finger over the smooth skin at the back of Wendy's skull.

"Ahaha, your hair was so pretty back then! Not that it isn't now, but... ahaha, you look the proper wick! No wonder they let you go!" Grinning, the blonde passive shook her head, trying to get rid of the tears. She was still so guilty. It would take a long time before she forgave herself even...


"Hehe, Oh Wendy don't worry about it. I've seen far worse injuries abroad. Hahaha!" The grin was so wide it stretched her face, and she felt like she was breaking inside. There's joy so painful it kills... and then there's this. I don't know which I'd prefer.

"So, escaped with wicks, did you? Never in a million years would i have thought you'd do that, girl! Good on you."

You remind me of those days, Wendy. I just hope you don't bring them with you. Looking down to see where her own blood stained the younger girl's clothing, she couldn't help but feel the omen. My blood is on her hands... She cringed internally, knowing all too well what sailors thought of such things.

Wendy...


Adalare closed up at the mention of other people, bloody hand coming to cover her throat where an adams apple ought to be. Smile waning, she just shook her head, hoping Wendy would understand her reluctance.


From Crius. No, I didn't Wendy... but that can wait. "Hahaha, it appears I did! I'm a sailor now, or an adventurer, or a wanderer, whatever you choose to call it." She bright the bloody hand to her mouth, licking away the crusty bits around the wound. It was something Adalare never did. It was Viator who did that, Viator and... AND CRIUS. She made herself say it.

"I've seen so many things, Wendy, things even galdori haven't! I've been all over the continent, traveling up and down the coasts. Didja know that the naulaneses are greenish, I mean really? It's strange! Oh Wendy..." She hugged the girl again. "It's been too long..."

"It was a close thing!" Wendy said with a laugh, glad that it was behind her, "I mean-- we got a particularly nasty guard..." She shrugged.



And then Wendy felt her smile waver, "What do you mean? Worse injuries? But--" Then she shook her head, "No, it makes sense. It's not safe, out there. But you're alive! And you're here!"



Wendy smiled, "Haha. Yeah." But the smile didn't reach her eyes. She felt a little guilty-- she was already lying to Adalare and they had just been reunited. But...but surely she didn't...she didn't need to know what Wendy had done to that boy, right? And then I would have to tell her about Pascual...and why that tsuter pig deserved the death he got!

These thoughts happened under the surface and Wendy attempted to squelch them out, although she knew they would worm their way to the surface later. But by then I'll be able to deal with them.



"Oh but-- you're in disguise? I thought-- I thought you just liked those clothes..." Wendy coloured slightly, and was briefly glad for the dark. "You seem so comfortable, though. I guess you're used to it." She grinned, "I-- I'm new...to the whole...thing..." She gestured with a hand at her outfit, "It looks silly. I'd much rather wear something sensible, but you know these wicks." Her mouth twisted wryly.



The passive grinned, "I-- I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about. Shothas? Ships?! You've been on ships! Adalare! Really!" She laughed and hugged the other girl back, "You must tell me everything. Let's-- do you want to go get something-- it's--"

Wendy struggled to find the words, "It's really-- it's a miracle you found me here. I hadn't been-- I was just leaving to--" Another time. This haunts your nightmares enough! Adalare doesn't need to know. She shrugged, "Anyway, it was silly. But-- Alioe smiles upon us tonight! Alioe smiles at two scraps! There's hope for us yet!" She grinned at Adalare roguishly.

"Oh, but are you sure you don't want to meet Petra? She's-- I mean I would--" It was hard for her to express the exact kind of gratitude that Wendy felt toward Petra, "It's different, with these wicks. Family is different. It was like back at Brunhold, with us. I-- She said I was part of her tribe! I'm a black hand, Adalare! A hand! It sounds silly but-- I don't know! What I'm trying to say is--"

I may not completely fit, but they treat me like family.

"I would trust Petra with my life. But I understand if-- you don't want to meet her." There was something in Wendy's tone of voice that implied she'd be hurt if Adalare decided not to. Although she didn't realize it, Wendy was almost going back to fulfilling the easy roll it took to be the manipulator.

"We-- you have to tell me everything!"

Adalare chuckled viator-ishly, gently chucking Wendy on the chin. "Haha, may have been close darlin' but you made it! Now your saunterin' about like any certified wick! Er, witch. Which ever."


She smiled, cleaning more blood from the scabbing wound. Wendy was so much... stronger now. Nine years'll do that to a person. "I'm a sailor by trade now, and let me tell you, there've been some nasty squabbles with pirates over the years. This is a quill-cut compared to some scratches I've gotten." He motioned to a nasty one on his lower arm, that ran from inner elbow to halfway towards her wrist.


"Hahaha, nah, I believe it. You had all the fire of a witch when you were a girl. And I am... I go by Viator now." She (he again) shook his head, trying to regather the pieces of the facade. "Lass, I been travlin' across the puddles o' the known world an yet never has a sight been more dear t'me than that of a mere slip o' a girl in Surwood." He grinned, laying his best accent and depth on.

"An' a disgiuse is all wots keepin' a bloke like me from th'worse end o'things, ship life ain't exactly easy."


Viator paused. He wanted to meet Petra, but...

"Wendy, ye have't see it my way. I'm... well luv, I'm still on th'run, if only in me own mind." He forced the lie out. No use scaring her right away. "For all intents an' purposes, Adalare died in th'snow nine years ago. It doesn't make much o' a diff'rence if'n ye knew a lass ora lad back then. If I do meet her it'll 'ave to be as Viator, not as Adalare. For th'sake o' my sanity." And her safety... she'd had a feeling in Dorhaven. A baaad one. Now was not the time to put things to the test.


He laughed, and with a gentle clap on Wendy's shoulder, began to move away from the dark alley into the better lit market.

"Aye lass, that I do! Here, no time like now t'meet these firend o'yours. 'Sides, I might mooch a better berth from these kin o' yours than a crotchety caravan o' misfits." He grinned, making sure that she knew he was teasing. Well, half teasing.

"Haha, nine years 'o everythin'll be a bit o' tellin'. I donnae want to overburden ye now that I've found ye again."

Wendy beamed up at Adalare, feeling the approval wash over her like warm water. "It's hardly a saunter, though." She protested, blushing a little. "I mean-- I'm not a wick, really. I'm just a passive."



Wendy winced sympathetically, "Oh that doesn't look good..." But she was still smiling. Nobody gets through life without a few scars, after all.



"Oh you have a different name as well? I go by Venadi. Can I call you Via?" She asked in an innocent voice. It seemed a natural thing-- to have a disguise. Even among friends.



As he spoke, Wendy's eyes began to flick over Adalare's face suspiciously. She didn't like the sound of this. Her mouth became a tight line and stubbornness seemed to set into her features as she listened to...her? It hardly seemed appropriate. Even the way 'Viator' stood seemed different to Adalare. She looked at her and raised an accusing eyebrow, "Oh aye?" she asked with as much poison as she had in her younger days.

Oh Wendy, what are you doing? Starting a fight so soon? Save it.

Wendy struggled with the thought for a moment and gave up, "If you say so, I suppose." She layered a heavy coat of doubt into her voice as she spoke, and then changed the subject, although a quick glance into Via's eyes seemed to promise that she wasn't going to drop this completely.



It makes a difference to me, Wendy thought sadly, and nodded. "Of course." But it won't be the same...



Wendy followed, grabbing Via's arm and pulling him to the left. "I don't know what you said." She told him cheerfully, trying to hide the sense of estrangement she felt from his way of speaking. "You'll have to speak plain. I don't know what anybody says here. Ever. So I'm used to it but I know you can speak well so you don't have any excuses."



Wendy grinned toothily, "Mine've been uneventful--" Mostly, "So I'll give you plenty of space to talk."

The pair took a right in the direction to where she lived for the moment. "I mean-- besides running away you know. That's something. Petra's trying to help me find work somewhere, but no one really needs a maid and that's all I know how to do. I mean, I can do maths and science of course-- but wicks don't care all that much for it. Or they do but they don't need anyone."

She sounded impressed at this, "They're very self sufficient, you know. They don't need any one to..." She trailed off, desperately trying to stave off the negative feelings that attacked her. She held her tongue, and didn't say anything she wanted to. Didn't tell this stranger what she felt, or lashed out. Instead she shrugged, "You know. They don't need sl-- servants. I've met a few other passives, here. They're all crazy." Wendy laughed lightly, "Or maybe I'm the crazy one."

Chatterbox, chatterbox. Wendy shut up, "Oh sorry. I know I said I'd let you talk. But I thought it'd be better over food. Or something. I don't know. I'm just happy to see you. You know how my mouth runs."

Runs and runs but doesn't say a thing it wants to.

"Hahaha, Venadi. I like it, it fits ye lass." She didn't understand, he could tell. Oh lass if ye knew who t'was who was after your dear Adlare ye'd know why the name needed changin'... an why I couldn't be 'er anymore.

The market looked quite lovely, and he paused to look at things, hand still firmly tangled with W-Venadi's. Couple o' v's we are!


"Aye... I meant no offence, but somethin's are better left unsaid." Not all these scars are from the sea, Wendy. SOme of them belong to other cruelties. You don't need to know. I protected you from all I could when we were young and now is no different.

Flushing, he tried to make is mouth form the words. Adalare's the one who clocking deal wit th'fancy talkin', not me. It was getting harder and harder to identify them as the same person, years had shown.

"Alls I said was I need a place t'stay and I was hopin' yer friends mught have an empty bed or stretch o' ground I could Lie my head for th'night."


"Lass if yer th'crazy one, what hope does a m- a person like me stand in th'idea o' sanity?" He leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead, amazed at their proximity again. "Nah, you're fine, lass."

"Oh sorry. I know I said I'd let you talk. But I thought it'd be better over food. Or something. I don't know. I'm just happy to see you. You know how my mouth runs."

Viator just grinned, and with an elegant bow took her arm again, every inch the galdor gentleman.

"Well, daaaarling, you know what they say about idle chatter..." He paused, his exaggeratedly finessed tone an obvious joke. "It makes fer idle fun! Hahaha, let's go, Venadi. I'd love t'meet yer Petra." The story had filled Viator's mind with memory, and he did want to meet the woman... but he also knew it was time to leave again.
Wendy, I'm sorry, I know how sad it'll leave ye when ye see I'm gone in th'mornin'.

Ye'd be sadder if ye awoke t' my face... an another just like it.

"Oh! Yeah that'll be easy enough. I've got a spare blanket if you don't mind laying on the floor. And if you do I'm sure we can get a few pillows together or something."



Wendy laughed, giving Viator a sideways hug. And Via was there. It wasn't just her imagination. Wendy felt like crying all over again and then stopped herself, letting go of her old friend gently.



The younger passive grinned, "You're gonna like her! I mean-- I think you will. I like her anyway."

She led them to where she and Petra had set up camp and looked around, "Helloooo? Petra? Petra I want you to meet somebody!"

Petra appeared from behind a fire, stumbling just slightly because she had been drinking for a little while. Not very long, just long enough to get a bit of a buzz and help her forget how much she missed her darling, gorgeous Rosie.

Rosie!!!!

"Venadi! Good te see ya gel!" She said, trying to work her way up to bawdy enthusiasm and succeeding.

She turned her head to the right, seeing that Wendy's arm was wrapped around someone that she did not know.

"You brought a kov home!" She said, throwing her hands in the air.

She'd made a wick out of her!

"Peeetraaaaa!" Wendy said with a laugh, shaking her head and hugging her, "Stop it! I really want you to meet h--him. He's-- I knew hiiim from back in Brunhold! He taught me almost everything I know about cleaning." She joked, nudging Viator playfully. "No but really. Petra this is Viator. Viator, this is my Wick!"

The littler passive got excited again and grinned, hugging both of them again, "I haven't seen-- Via since he ran away! It's been...like...10 years? 9? Something like that! And he's alive, Petra! He's been free this whole time!" She wrapped an arm around Via's and hung on, "Bein' a sailor and stuff. A sailor. You're insane, A-- Via. You're clocking mad is what you are!"

Wendy giggled, "But I'm just as mad. I mean-- look at my haiiiir!" Her last word turned into sort of a wail. "Peeetra cuuuuut iiiiiiiit." she whined, although it was clear she didn't care one way or the other.

Petra really didn't get the cleaning thing, for her it was more art than science. She hated art, she wasn't very good at it.

"Well... I'm glad you two have so much in common!" Petra said, desperately trying to understand. "And you should be glad I cut yer hair, it looks much better this way, even if you are getting sunburn."

She gave Viator a friendly, though critical, look over. Something was a little up there that she couldn't quite put her finger on. He kind of reminded her of herself when she'd been younger, though she wasn't sure why.

Like every time someone believed the disguise, Viator felt pride and happiness well up, making his cheeks ruddy and his swagger more secure. He lived off of others expectations of him. Running a hand through his care, he winced as the slash in it almost reopened. When the introductions were done he'd get a wrap for it.



Viator bowed at the waist, coming up in a proper officer's salute. "Pleasure t'meet you, marm." He extended a hand, smiling with an air of amusement and understanding.

Wendy ye always were a bit o'a spitfire. Now ye can't clocking shut yer yap, but the thought was accompanied by a caring grin.


With a glance at Petra (who seemed to be taking the roll of loving aunt), Viator returned 'Venadi's' hug and planted a small kiss on the top of her hair line.

"Hehehe, ye know, they do say all sailor make up what they lack in sense in 'eart. Ah, It's good to see ye gel!" And with that he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, holding tight. I missed you too, Wendy.



"You should seen her as a gel, marm. Her hair was always askew and in odd places from the jobs we worked. Remember that one time when ye got up ended into the pond while we was cleanin' it? We both smelled like fish fer a week and our hair was dreadful!" He tapped his noggin. "Now adays I prefer t'keep things outa the way."

Smiling again, fixed his shirt. "Now, Wendy's told ye some of it, but I;m sure you'd rather it from me own lips. I'm Viator Ohtil, able seaman second rate and airman third rate. I've been all over the world, an dyet aint a bonnier sight than that o' a wickishly passive I meant earlier this evenin'" It was mean to assuage her worries, but...

Wendy shrieked when he picked her up and pounded on his shoulders till he let her down. "Not allowed!" She declared, sticking her tongue out impishly.



"And blond," Wendy reminded Via, tugging on the girl's locks. "Oh the pond. Don't even remind me. Matron only gave us pond duty because she thought I was 'rude' to her. Which I wasn't."



Wendy didn't even bother listening to the rest of what he said. Her stomach had twisted in surprise at the mention of her old name in front of Petra. The passive stared at the ground quietly, surprised at her own reaction. It wasn't that she didn't trust these wicks with her name, but it felt like opening a door to things she didn't necessarily wanted to be reminded of. She had liked it fine that 'Venadi' had made her a new person...

Sort of like Adalare and Viator...maybe I should switch back to Wendy... Still, she shifted uncomfortably, and nudged Via a little with a pointed look.

((I'm sorry to be a pain but Petra already knows Venadi's real name is Wendy, Rosie told her. Were you refering to her full name?))



Petra raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oes." She said dryly. "You're such a sweet and placid flower that I surely believe you."

She listened to Viator carefully.

"So, you're a sailor and you're fond of my Venadi... How do you feel about bochi then?" She said, arms crossed thoughtfully in front of her chest. It was rare to find someone who was as endeared as she was by Wendy's tough front.

A possibly awkward moment was momentarily avoided as a dash of red hair appeared from behind a nearby kint and Jerzy Wira ran forward.

"Evenin', Vennie, Petra," he said cheerfully, bobbing his head in a wick bow. "I got some new- hes, who's the kov?"

He eyed Viator, sensing immediately that he was an outsider, but his face broke into a fresh grin. He stuck out both hands to shake.

((Yikes sharky! You're totally right! Bad memory strikes again! Fixed to something less...wrong!))



Wendy rolled her eyes, "Well still."



...Bochi? What was that? Boch...girls? games? Wendy silently cursed her inability to speak tek.



Wendy's face broke out into an immediate smile, "Jerzy!" She beamed at the man-- which was a change from the trademark scowl that was usually on her face.

Petra frowned, momentarily thwarted. Was it her fault that Viator needed to be vetted before she could give her blessings? Obviously not.

"Hesta, Jerzy. This is one of Venadi's old mates, one of them sailors." She leant in closer to Viator and whispered. "No, really, do you like bochi? I'm not sure Venadi does so I'd feel better if at least one of you did."

Was it her fault that she wanted something approaching grandchildren? Obviously not.

Bochi means... haven't heard that'un to often wit th'lads, unless it was about them not wantin' any yet... Realization hit. Babies. She means... babies! With those few words Viator decided he'd played the part of a man too well.

"Uhh..." How the clocking hell do I answer that?? There was a reason I didn't pretend to have a gel in ev'ry port, they'd expect summat like this! Ahhh! He floundered, rubbing his neck nervously. Babies...!



Viator bowed politely, totally out of his element. If it had just been Jerzy, he could have perhaps been on fair seas, but the woman with her talk of bochi and Wendy and him like they were... like they were a... he just didn't know anymore.

I have got to get out o' here.

"I'm Viator, an' a seaman indeed." He didn't know how much to give away in this company, so he decided to just shut the clock up. Better to not totally brand himself as a bad influence.

Oh Lords 'n Ladies I am so clockin' screwed. He looked down at his feet, wondering if there was anyway to rewind time and, ye know, flee before he'd gotten sucked into bochi and kovs and whatever else they were gonna be expect out of him. Now why did I leave the sea again...?


He blanched. More talk of babies. Ugghhh... um? Where do they come up with this stuff? He tried to picture himself. Do I really look like th'fatherly type?

"I think ye misunderstand th'nature of Venadi's and my friendship, marm. We're friends, not- not-" He tried to figure out a way to say it without sounding rude. "I take th'laws very seriously in this matter, marm. I ent lookin' to hurt Venadi or meself in that way."

"Junta, me brunno," said Jerzy, trying not to laugh at the word "seaman." He bobbed his head and grinned, wiggling his ears a little.

Turning to the others, he stood with his arms akimbo as though he were quite proud of the information he was about to impart.

"Elder Hale is speakin' at the inward encampment, by the Hollow. I dunno what he's tellin', but if it's anythin' like last year, it'll be a grand ol' evenin'. You lovely roshes gonna grace us with your presence, then?"

Petra gave him a look.

"In case you hadn't noticed there's no such laws out here and nothing to prove you ain't a wick passive, born and bred. Aside from yer funny naut'cal way o' speakin." Petra said, having been born with a mind that was unusually linear in it's thinking and somewhat forceful. "She hurts herself enough to just trying not hate who she is. She deserves to have someone that... someone that cares. Maybe she ent in it for grand romances or anythin' like that but don't you tell me you ent gonna bother 'cause of no golly law. They've clocked you both over enough. As far as I'm concerned they didn't want her so I get to have her and that makes her a wick. Just need to work on 'er tek."

The look dissolved.

"Oes, Jerzy, I'm gonna be there with bells on." Petra said with a smile. "Venadi's coming too."

Petra had not asked her, she just assumed Venadi would come with her.

"How about you, merman? You comin'?" She said to Viator, trying to encourage him to stay about. She liked that Wendy had a friend.

"No, no his name is Via, not Bruno." Wendy told Jerzy, matching his grin and poking the taller man.



"Oh! Well-- Would that be okay? I mean I know I'm not-- I'm not--" she paused, "Well, you know. I'm not a wick, and stuff."



Wendy only heard the last part of what Petra said (luckily, if she'd been listening all along she might have died of embarrassment), and winced. Damn, she really did need to work on that.



"Oh. Okay!" Wendy officially felt better about the whole thing. If Petra said it was okay for her to come, then it was.



"...HAHAHAHAAAA!" Wendy guffawed at the nickname, "Yeah merman, are you planning on gracing us with your fishy presence?" She asked in a delighted voice.

The man's laughter set Viator at ease. At last, someone who doesn't read into every word! Setting his chin jauntily, Viator raised a brow to the wick lad and grinned.

"Ye know what'n they say 'bout sailors, too-" He stopped as he realized that mixed company was not the time for that particular joke. Especially with all that talk of bochi. Internally, the stunted nineteen year old girl balked at the idea, almost as much as Viator did.

Bochi indeed. Bah.


Viator paused. She was an astute woman, to be sure. The fragmented mask slipped a little more, the hastily made bravado weakening at the edges. Hand touching the outer edge of a pocket, he was tempted to pull out the last bauble he could say was hers.

"Marm, Venadi in time might be as wick as ye, speakin' tek like she was born t'it. And I ent been a golly for nigh on twenty years. But those laws... th'whole idea of 'passive.' It's bone deep fer me." He drew his hand away from the pocket altogether. I can't escape from it, ma'am, I really can't, and for this issue, I wouldn't if I could. I am not meant for parenthood.

Viator cemented his battlements, at last, and the melancholy faded back into the depths of his breast.



With a wry grin, he tipped his head cordially. "It'd be my honor t'escort the pair o' you fine ladies, though I'll admit I ent heard a good yarn in longer than I care t'remember, so this is just as selfish of me as it is p'lite." He checked the girl on the chin, eyes alight. "That is, if'n ye can stand th'smell of washed up merfolk."