RP:Game Over

Summary: Largakh is back in the realm, after having been presumed to have died in the line of duty, a year ago. The warrior heads to Enchantment on a mission from the Devout's Guild, and he ends up bumping into his ex-girlfriend, Lanara, and things take a turn for the worst. Larz calls her a 'monster' and says some mean things that strike a chord with the witch, and Lana falls to pieces, hysterical over this change of events. He holds her fully responsible for the death of the orphans in Gualon, and Lana tries to share what led to her using astral projection and put the children at risk. The night ends on a sour note when Larz claims that the only way to win at life is to love yourself, and instead of bringing comfort, Lana lashes out by saying they both lost at the game of love and she storms back into the tavern. The two see things differently and realize they are not the same as they were in the past, and pursue different paths.

Part of the Magic, Madness, and Mayhem Arc

This is a Devout's Guild RP.

Largakh decides to begin the search for this ‘ogre’ that has been imposing his large stature on the smaller races in Enchantment and checking the public board is a good of a place as any to check for complaints. For this task, Larz has decided to wear light leather armor even though his vitiligo is showing on his arms (of which had seemed to spread a little more in the span of a year and a half), but the smaller races are still skittish around the six foot seven abomination and start whispering about the odd skin condition. The man is different in subtle ways, his cheeks are a little gaunt, the tuscan yellow colored eyes carry a darkness and pain about them, but most striking to anyone that knew him would notice the thin deliberate cuts along his arms as if he’d been a sick part of some barbaric shaman ritual. No matter, the man is still on the side of good, lawfully so, and offers a kindly crooked grin to anyone daring to look upon him longer than a couple seconds or fleeing. He fixes his long bow across his chest as he strides to the bar counter to chat with the barkeep and his raspy orcish tone greets, “Afternoon. I’m in search of an ogre going around causing trouble. Have you heard anything?” The barkeep looks a little dumbfounded that such a well formed sentence just came from an orc! Their glance seeks out the bouncer and Larz attempts to soften his rough timbre, “I promise, I’m not here to cause any trouble myself. I’m here on Devout’s Guild business,” he shows them the insignia on his hand and they relax.

Lanara is working a double shift at The Green Fairy as a few of the barmaids had called out on short notice, due to it being flu season. The witch wouldn’t have minded working overtime, however, this was part of her agreement with the council of Enchantment, and considered volunteerism. The city promised to keep her safe, provide her with room and board, and give her an unbiased trial. She was being charged with rather hefty crimes and knew a good deal when one presented itself, so she agreed wholeheartedly to throw herself into any given job, at any given moment, even if it was unpaid. At least the tavern allowed her to keep any tips she garnered, though they were rare, as half of the patrons believed her to be guilty of murder, animal abuse, and a plethora of macabre instances. Lana looks as she had before being institutionalized, save for the fact that she is underweight and her eyes have a haunted look to them. She’s being cautious not to spill anything off of the tray that she holds in one hand, while scouring the room for the table that had placed the order. As she’s looking around, she catches the gaze of the burly bouncer, who nods in the direction of the bar, and she trails his line of sight to a male that has an obvious skin condition. Her pulse quickens at the familiar body language and the bow slung across his form, and for half a heartbeat she thinks it’s her ex, back from the dead. It’s plausible, as she had died on two separate occasions and returned to the realm. Lana quickly serves the drinks to the party of four, dries her palms on her pants, and proceeds to the bar, warily eyeing the newcomer. If it –was- Largakh, he would have gotten wind of the murders at the orphanage in Gualon, and he would likely attack first and ask questions later. The ankle monitor hums and the witch swallows hard, knowing that she would be defenseless as her magic was silenced, as another part of the agreement. The barkeep motions her to the side and whispers that someone is there on Devout’s Guild business, and she gives a slow nod, “Of course I will speak to him!” Khitti was one of Lana’s best friends and before all the events unfolded last year, she was a member of the guild. Turning to face the presumed foreigner, Lana locks eyes with Larz, her own brimming with tears as she stares into the tuscan hues that she so fondly remembered. “What are you doing here?! How… How are you alive?” The tray is placed atop the bar as she stares at the half-orc, incredulous, with her lips slightly parted in awe.

Largakh grins the warm and kind way he does to the barkeep which makes his rather angular features soften a little, but then someone next to him is ready to give him information and his expression flattens as his heart sinks into his shoes. A myriad of emotions flood the half orc and he’d not been prepared for this for he was certain that, given the information from Minnie, the asylum would never let this woman go free. Unexpectedly, he didn’t realize he missed her because it was so easy to focus on the atrocities she’s committed, but then he does remember all she’s done and the muscles along his jawline tightens as he slips his hands in the pockets of his dark slacks. She looks good as always, but troubled and a part of him wishes he could make all of her troubles go away… that makes his stomach churn. He’s torn between love and hate at this point. Larz is not and never has been the violent type without a lawful reason, but seeing as he doesn’t work in Gualon anymore and even if he did, Enchantment was not his jurisdiction anyway. Slowly, his expression digressed to something that to akin of disgust as he glances down to his scarred arms and it’s unclear if he’s agitated with what he’s been through or if she’s the cause of his disappointment, “I am alive because I was able to eventually outsmart my captor.” He wasn’t about to divulge that he’d been held prisoner by his own father because he was dead set on manifesting the ‘blue orc prophecy’ and on that note, his pine green skin -does- look a shade lighter, as if he’d spent the last year and a half in a cold dark place. Something dark flashes over those odd colored eyes as he looks back to her face, “You were where you deserved to be, Lanara.” Her name came out harsh and quick like a cuss word. “I’d ask you how are you sane enough to be freed…” with a clearing of his throat, he attempts to soften his building tone again as to not agitate the smaller beings all around them because he is starting to feel his blood boil under his skin. Finally, he slowly blinks and rips his gaze away from her hauntingly beautiful face towards the exit as he softly finishes in a disappointing defeat, “But I would rather just not know.” For fear of losing his cool, he takes long strides on out of the establishment while smoothing the hair on the top of his head back before Lanara could retort. If she decides to follow him out and continue this discussion or rather part ways at this juncture, is on her.

Those that know the witch well, know that she always has to have the last word, and that is one habit of hers that hasn’t changed. A dishrag is angrily tossed on the top of the bar, as she exchanges a look with the barkeep, and he gives a tentative shrug. The discolored foreigner was better off outside, especially if he was angered about something, and he didn’t want a bar fight to break out. “Go.” It’s both a suggestion and a command, as the barkeep can see the reaction of the pretty elf, and that she desires to continue the conversation with Largakh. She doesn’t wait for further instruction, as she storms out of the establishment and raises her voice once the door slams behind her, eyes narrowing on the male’s muscular form. “Wait.” What could she say that would make him hate her less? Was he upset that she had found love after his presumed death, and had gotten engaged? Did this have to do with the murders at the orphanage? Had the prophecy come true and turned him evil? Any fight that was in the woman dissipates as soon as Larz turns and looks her way, sheer disgust in his expression. Chocolate bleeds into tuscan, and for a long moment Lana is at a loss for words. All the bubbled up angst she had planned to unleash on him as he called her ‘crazy’ and walked out of her life again, was now gone, and her expression softens as a single tear spills onto her cheek. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep, thinking he had perished in the line of duty? When Tanner was slaughtered by a witch hunter and she lost the last piece of Larz, hadn’t she attempted to follow suit and take her own life? She speaks with trembling conviction, “I am –not- crazy and I didn’t kill the children at the orphanage, or set the sanctuary ablaze, nor did I kill Scandal’s household staff. Lard… I…” She realizes that she used her pet name from when they were lovers, and she stifles a sob as she takes a step nearer to him. The urge to touch him, to see if he truly was here in the flesh is so great that she lifts a hand and extends it outwards, nearly grazing the mottled skin of his left arm. And then, she drops her hand, knowing that he didn’t yearn for her touch, not after all that had happened. “I’m innocent, and I know that you don’t believe me, as the tale is rather fantastical… But, I was using a new form of magic, and while that was happening another spirit entered my body and took over. There’s a trial coming up, to prove my innocence. I came back willingly, and begged for this trial, because I want to clear my name and those that took the blame for what happened.” Lana’s slender shoulders sag and she bows her head, as she bursts into tears and full on sobs beneath the moonlight, with just the two of them standing outside the tavern. “I truly believed you were dead, I even saw the body… I’ve lost so much, and it led me to be careless with my magic, and I will forever carry the guilt over what happened to those kids and animals… I’m… I’m sorry for what you went through. If I could heal your pain, I would.” She had spied the scars, though she doesn’t outright comment on them. Swallowing hard, she lifts her head to gaze upon Larz once more, a million memories flooding her mind, “Strike me if you must… I won’t bother to defend myself.” The witch had faced countless hells in the past several months, and this would be another to add to the pile. Her heartbreak hues remain transfixed on the half orc, as though willing him to take out his anger on the witch that he used to love, and now loathed.

Largakh swallows hard and does stop in his tracks, even though every fiber of his being was telling him to just keep on walking and pretend he isn’t hearing any of this ridiculousness. Larz does everything he can to peel his gaze from her deep brown eyes and instead, look to her forehead as his jaw tenses the entirety of her speech. Did she not know him at all? He of course wouldn’t care if she found love after him; as long as she was happy and safe, that’s all he had ever cared about; at least, that’s all he cared about for a woman he -thought- he knew. He had started to take a half step back when she stepped closer and then finches his arm away from her reach just before she decided not to follow through. He looks as if he’d been punched in the stomach when she called him ‘Lard’ and he does look fully away from her now. “I didn’t call you crazy, I don’t think you’re crazy,” his voice doesn’t sound angry, he actually sounds more like a disappointed and hurt Theoduin. His words are firm and true, “I do think you’re sick, Lanara, and you need to go back where people will help you, where you aren’t a danger to society.” Both his hands reached up to rub down his own face as he took a deep breath, “you know… tragedy makes people stronger in the end. Not children, they should just be children and feel safe - even those without a home and they shouldn’t be terrified to sleep at night because the ‘death dancer’ is coming for them if they do something they think is bad. You stand there and act like innocent children’s lives are equal to some animals, but you know who I blame the most? Me,” his eyes sting with the threat of tears. “I introduced this-this ‘monster’ to them.” His hand gestures toward her when he said the word monster, but he shook his head and mumbles, “ironic coming from an abomination.” After a long pause of just staring down at her while wishing so badly that he could believe her and one day move past this, he continues, “I’m sorry. No matter how you try to explain this to me, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you because those kids needed protection most of all and to at least feel safe where they are already forced to live without a family, so this ‘I just wasn’t in the right mindspace’ excuse just doesn’t sit well with me, but… ultimately I was the one who failed them.” Then the offer to strike her is like a slap in the face by itself, so this time he does look to her with a shocked and offended expression, “do you know me at all?” He blinks a couple times, “why would I ever do that to anyone? I was a city guard. I let the law deal with the criminals. That is not my place,” unless someone is in obvious danger or dealing with unwanted advances.

Lanara expected hatred, she expected fear, and she even expected disgust. However, the fact that he thinks she is ‘sick’ and needs severe psychological help wasn’t expected, and he may as well have struck her, for she stumbles back, both physically and emotionally. “You have –NO- idea what happened after you died, or after it looked like you died. I sunk into this depression… I gave the Guild to Meri, I questioned my faith, I was reckless beyond belief! I had a funeral for you! I had to sell the house for Theoduin and Seldanna, and explain to them that their pride and joy died in the line of duty! I was an outcast amongst our friends. I wanted to die after losing you, and never knowing what would have happened if you hadn’t died… I was swallowed by a dragon, and it gave me the strength to try and live again. I found love with an assassin, and I convinced him to live a cleaner way of life… We became engaged, and he left me at the altar, and kicked me out of our home. The witch hunters killed our dog, Tanner! I was abducted, after watching my employees at the sanctuary slaughtered, and I was tortured alongside my little sister, for days! They kept me in a cage like an animal, they sliced my achilles tendon and I nearly bled out. I will –never- dance again, and I was in the healing center for months until I was able to walk again… But… I visited the orphanage every weekend, donating gold, bringing gifts and sweets, and even though I couldn’t teach them ballet, I still read to them and played games. Being around children and animals was all that kept me sane… I closed my heart to everyone else… And I used my dream state to spend time in a body that wasn’t mine, in the forms of rabbits and deer… You know why, Lard?! Because I –hated- my life. I hated knowing that I wasn’t worthy of love, and that a piece of me died when you left. I knew that everyone laughed at me when I was left at the altar, and I questioned my magic, my existence, my faith, every minute of every day. I carry the guilt of what happened in every beat of my heart. I can’t go back and change what happened, if I could, believe me I would. I can’t erase the past, or bring those kids back to life… I didn’t ask for the shade to enter my shell, and I didn’t ask to be called a ‘monster’ but I –still- take the blame and feel the guilt. None of this is your fault… Yes, you introduced me to the orphanage, and yes, your death was the start of my downward spiral… All you are guilty of is breaking my heart, inadvertently.” Lanara is sobbing hysterically now, her words coming out in a strangled cry, as the tears continue to flow and she helplessly explains her side of things to Larz. “I don’t want you to blame yourself… I talked with some experts and they claimed that the shade read my memories and visited the places that I held most dear to my heart… So yeah, go ahead and call me a freaking monster, I can take it. I’m a monster for having a heart, for loving those kids and animals and you… I just… I hope that when I’m proven innocent of any wrongdoing, that one day you can forgive me and forgive yourself.” The witch falls to her knees, covering her eyes with her hands as she weeps, exhausted by this turn of events and the emotions that it sparked. “I’m sorry…” She repeats those two words over and over, and if Larz could peer into her mind or heart, he’d know that the words are genuine and that the witch holds herself accountable for the actions that were done using her body.

Largakh offers her a handkerchief as he crouches so they are eye level again, “I’m disappointed overall. Mostly because I don’t understand why is having someone love you putting a value on you as a person? You’re putting too much stress on the fact that you think you’re not worthy of love just because a man isn’t giving it to you, but… have you ever loved yourself? Is this why you hated whenever I would never get jealous because you’re insecure?” He sighed before continuing, “and so what someone left you at the altar. If people are laughing at you behind your back… frak those cynical asshats,” wow he was really starting to sound like his guild leader, Miss Khitti. “You were brave enough to put yourself out there and allow someone to see that vulnerable side of you, but… having a romantic someone isn’t the bandaid to your problems,” he stands back up all the way and can’t believe he’s about to do this, but offers a hand to help her to her feet as well. “I thought you were stronger than this and I’m upset I was wrong about you because you cannot seem to realize that you’ve never needed me or anyone else, but that’s why I say you’re sick. You needed to love yourself, Lam-Lanara, and all I am hearing, is you using things out of your own control as a crutch for the actions you have taken… I thought you were better than that.” He slowly looks down to the space between them on the ground because he really didn’t want to be the one to say these things, but she eventually needed to hear it, “I know that you’re just going to deny all I said in this moment, but I do hope one day you realize that if you had really loved yourself back then and those kids then you would have won out in that spectral battle because… love always wins in the end. Always, love,” his hands shove back into his pants pockets again, “what do you think got me through being held in a dark cold cave for a year and a half?”

Lanara accepts the handkerchief and dries her eyes, though a few tears continue to spill onto her cheeks. “Weren’t you listening? It was more than Eli leaving me at the altar… It was –everything- piling up that led me to study astral projection. I’m not using it as an excuse for what happened, but I didn’t –intentionally- mean to hurt anyone…” She catches his slip of the tongue, where he almost uses his pet name for her, though he abruptly chooses the formal route, and were she not so miserable she’d have teased him over it. The outstretched hand is eyed and she’s about to let him help her to her feet, when he mentions that it was ‘love’ that helped him through his ordeal. The waterworks are in full force again and she shakes her head, crumbling the handkerchief into a ball and refusing to stand up. They had first met in Sage Forest, after she had called off her engagement to Eirik, and she was hysterical crying… And now that Larz had returned to the area, he again finds the witch in tears, though this time, they were being shed over him and because of his words. Lana was a disappointment. A monster. She should love herself and not rely on others. It’s her fault that the orphans were murdered in their beds. She had low self-esteem. She’s sick in the head. The witch takes several long moments to calm down and when her crying dissolves to mere sniffles, she blows her nose and slowly rises to her feet. She’s a mess with dirt all over her uniform, her long locks in a haphazard ponytail, and tearstains coating her high cheekbones. In the process of falling to the ground she must have bit her lower lip, as there’s a droplet of blood on the side of her mouth and a small indentation from her tooth. “No, Largakh… You are wrong. Love doesn’t –always- win… This time? It’s game over, and we both lost.” They lock eyes, for what may very well be the last time, and she recalls that he came to the tavern on a mission from Khitti. “The ogre that you seek was last seen near the mystical stream to the south… Goodbye, Largakh.” She didn’t trust herself not to cry again, so instead of running off into the night, she turns on her heel and steps back into the establishment. She would bury herself in her work, and maybe snag a bottle of ale to nurse once she headed home for the night. She fought so hard to remember happier times, and now all she wanted was to forget.

Largakh shook his head, “you’re still missing the point. Find love for yourself, that way, when someone comes along - their love will be a bonus and not something you need to feel whole again. This is the big picture you’ve missed, there is so much to the world. More than you, more than me….” he sighs and helps brush the dirt off her clothes, but he’s careful of where his hands go, “just. Well. Uh. Find happiness again, and if I were you, I wouldn’t show your face around the orphanage for quite some time because they still have terrors of that night, but the survivors are slowly healing,” he takes the kerchief from her and gently dabs the blood away, “one day you will, too.” He doesn’t even know why he’s trying to help her again because there is still so much wrong that’s happened and he is unsure if there is a fix to it at all. Seeing her in this light, she’s completely changed to him and with that thought, he watches the back of her head as she walks away from him while he thinks of where he is headed next in this journey.