RP:Not-Good-Enoughs

From HollowWiki

Summary: Irenic spills all to his oldest and dearest friend, Emilia.

House of Ara; Rebuilt

The primary floor of the House of Ara was completely demolished so a newer, larger, and sturdier floorplan could take its place. Upon entering the building through heavy double doors, you will find yourself standing on oceanic-blue marble floors. The walls are white, backlit by mahogany trim. There is a receptionist desk, manned by a small Elvish girl with stark white hair and very pale skin named Mei. She will be able to direct you to the lavish patient rooms that are located up twisting staircase, the kitchens down the North corridor, the surgical facilities to the east or the teaching clinic to the west. The ceilings are high and the acoustics pick up the click-clack of your heels as you make your way to Mei. The Guild Tutor, Mr.Fennigan would be more than happy to serve as your escort, or fetch a wheelchair and a medic should there be cause for one.


Irenic didn't know where the hell to go, but his feet took him back to Ara while mumbling obscenities under his breath. One major sentence that could be made out is, "I f#^$ing hate Larket." His silvery gaze is narrowed in seething anger while he walks aimlessly through the House of Ara and between rifling through this or that, he lets out frustrated grunts. "Where is it…" he knows there has to be alcohol somewhere. "Gotta be f….. kidding me," his gruff timbre sounds a little rougher than before. Just as he feels a familiar burning on either side of his spine, he stops and puts his hand on his chest, but finds it to be bare. Oh yeah, the sweater he'd been wearing turned to ash when his wings came out unexpectedly as he shook that woman. This brought the avian back to reality for a moment and he slinks down into a chair, props his elbows on his knees as his head sinks while he stares at the floor of whatever room he had wondered in. He hadn't been paying attention.


Emilia was just down the hall from the room that Irenic had landed himself in. If he needed a laugh for even just a moment he would find one shortly if he went to investigate the sounds from the near by room. It was a series of sounds that ranged from clattering of instruments, vials crashing onto the floor with the sound of broken glass, books falling, a possibly chair being kicked into a wall, and above all else the words of the Genasi as if she was in the midst of a brawl, “Oh, you bloody piece of s***! If you don’t stop it right now, I am going to cut you!” Granted there was no fight between woman and another being, rather the Genasi versus the corseted dress that she was wearing. The strings had been pulled tight to fit snug to the little frame of the woman and tied at just the right spot between her shoulder blades that she could not reach it to undo it no matter which way she reached. Arm over the shoulder? Nope. Arm behind the back and up? Nope, fingertips were just shy of it. To make matters worse, even if she could reach the string there was a metal clasp wound around the center of the bow to hold it in place. She was trapped in the garment. The woman was jumping and bouncing about the room in so much motion that she was making a rather good mess of the place. It also, appeared that she was looking for a sharp object that she could use to simply end the madness and cut herself out of the gown.


Irenic's long tapered ears pick up the comotion, how couldn't it - what was he, hard of hearing? It's Emi and he is quick to sprint on over to the next room and barrel through the doorway, "icicle!" One of the many names he calls her other than Emilia. Then he sees her, poor Emi who hates dressing up stuck in a corseted dress, "what the fork are you wearing?!" The corner of his lips are pulled into a smirk and he crosses his arms while leaning against the door frame as silver hues give her a good once over, "is this for me? You shouldn't have," he offers in a flattered tone, but of course it isn't. He takes in the sight a second longer before he shoves off the door frame and walks over to her, "put the knife down and chill out short stack." Motioning her to turn her back towards him so he can simply untie the corset and start loosening the top laces, "did I miss the party?"


Emilia would look up to find the sudden entrance of Irenic and stare at him with the most blank look of ‘I was not expecting that’ across her face. Then it turned to a roll of the eyes with a glare, “Oh, you know I love it when you borrow my clothes.” A playful gest with a wink, “I fear this one might me too short on you, next time I will pick out a much longer one to accommodate those monster-long legs of yours.” Last time she’d seen her feather stick he was sporting her cloak for a very mini skirt, at least this one would be more covering on Irenic. Calmly though she put the knife down on the counter and let out a sigh of relief that Irenic had come to save the day from this evil contraption. With her back to him it exposed the layer upon layer of scarred flesh that marred her back leaving no trace untouched. Old burns to healed marks from the whip and former injuries from different blades. A reminder of a terrible past. “I had a meeting with an official in the other town. I suppose, rags are not the best attire to wear when buying business from another. I wasn’t expecting you to be in Larket, again. However, as a thanks to freeing me from this beast I say, how about we go up to my office and share a bottle or seven of some old whiskey or rum?”


Irenic continues to unlace the damned contraption and his eyes linger from scar to burn to blemish in almost admiration. He misses his own tattoos and scars, but he knows that Emilia might not share that same sentiment, so he leaves no comment after gently tracing one with his fingertips. "Ugh, damn stuffy officials, fugem," Irenic doesn't actively watch her fully undress, but he doesn't scurry away like an embarrassed gentleman. He's seen it all and surely she's seen it all too, "well I have been staying here uninvited." A shrug, "had that not been obvious?" With how boisterous and obnoxious he is, he thought that would have been definiately obvious, but the moment she mentions liquor he starts meandering toward the office, "keeping the good stuff for yourself, huh? Holding out on your best pal, feather-stick I see," he tsks at her.


Emilia waited until he had the thing undone enough that she could wiggle herself out of it before stepping away from him using a hand to hold the garment up. Grabbing the oversized shirt that rested on the counter she slid it over her head as she let the dress go to the floor. It was a fluid motion as one item fell off and another replace it without revealing anything. The new attire hung off a shoulder and fell past her knees. It was a patient gown made for someone much bigger than she, but it was better what she had on. Walking out of it and leaving it there on the floor she followed along behind Irenic to her office, “I mean I don’t trust Randoms with my alcohol! Of course, I keep it hidden.” Emilia chuckled as she walked around past Irenic over to a large wooden chest on the far side of the room that like everything around her was much bigger than her. Opening it with a heave she then lifted out a board from the bottom, leaned it against the wall then nearly fell in before turning around to offer him a bottle of rum while pointing with her stump back to the chest, “Or do you prefer the whiskey?”


Irenic fakes a gasp, "I, miss icicle, am no 'random'." The avian plops down after taking whatever she gives him, it may be clear he doesn't care because he just needs a buzz and he needs it right now. After a first initial sip and sharp exhale, he takes a couple of hefty gulps. His grip is a little tight on the bottle to which silvery hues are narrowed down on and his jaw tenses periodically. Seems old Irenic is dealing with some rough emotions and his free hand smooths the dusty blonde hair back from his face, "I'm… uh. I'm going to leave Larket tomorrow." The joking tone has left him and now the low gruff timbre returns with a flatness he's never used with Emilia before. The avian cannot seem to look to his friend.


Emilia watched as the demeanor of Irenic changed after he had taken the first drink. Something was amiss with him and the Genasi was not sure what to make of it. This was not her feather-stick. Taking a long sip of her bottle she stared at him while he avoided looking at her. It just didn’t feel right. Where was the sass? Finally, the healer moved to take a seat by plopping into the cushion he sat on, sliding in to sitting next to him almost like small children do to an upset elder. Now he wouldn’t have to avoid looking at her since she was next to him, practically sitting on him like the brat she was, “I will miss you if you leave, but you know you are always welcome here, or at the upcoming center in Cenril, or the green house in Frostmaw, or the house in Gualon, or the house in Chartsend.” A long drink from her bottle and she added, “What has your smile upside down my friend?” Truly, she was concerned for him.


Irenic shifts his gaze to her when she mentions Chartsend, "Chartsend, huh? Nothing ever happens there… maybe that is where I will go," heck he nearly forgot about it until just now. As Emilia gets so close, she would smell her favorite scent on him as usual - not that he could control it, but one thing he couldn't get out of his mind was the scent of the woman he was just talking to before Emilia. "The house I shared with Valrae, my late wife, is right around here and I went to check it out," he slumps down some more in the seat and takes a pull from the bottle. "Some woman comes out of the house and just as I am about to leave a property that I assumed had been bought, she calls out my name. It's Irenic - if you forgot," a hint of the sass returns just before he takes another long pull from the bottle. "Turns out, the famous red witch's ghost attached itself to someone else. Someone she didn't have a soul binding marriage to. Someone who didn't watch as his wife burned and he felt every lick of the flame or had to grieve the loss of his whole world," he never got the name, but that isn't something he cares about. His voice softens a little as a mistiness wells up on the rim of his eyelids, "I guess it was someone more worthy than I." Taking a deep calming breath before downing some more liquor.


Emilia closed her eyes a moment inhaling the scent of fresh cut hay and dirt from the farm as she snuggled into the side of the larger man. If it was not for having other friends that were of the winged kind she might think it was so strange how he smelled like fresh dirt and hay, but she savored it. The farm was long gone and the little healer would never mention how much she missed it. “Yea, Chartsend. I have a ranch on a hilltop out there. It even has a blacksmith forge built into the hill below the house, and I have the key if you need it,” she said while resting her head on his shoulder. “I am sorry that someone that held your heart ripped it out, twice, and squished all its feels out. I cannot say that I know -that- pain, but I do know a similar heart ache of having the world taken away from you,” she said softly. Xersom had left her years ago while taking with him their triplets because she was too dangerous for them to be around. Heartache of another kind. It was her turn to down some more liquor while staring off into the distance. “Her loss. Not everyone can handle the pure awesomeness of a feather-stick,” she said softly, not sure how to really lessen the present aches of her friend.


Irenic allows her in close, draping an arm behind her as they talk, "I'm not sure she did it on purpose. I like to believe she is hurting as much as me, but it's just how things worked out and it is like we keep getting ripped apart... She was burned alive at the stake and I just sort of gave up during my grieving when the bounty hunters from my homeland came to collect me. A soul bond snapping was one of the most painful things I ever experienced and even as I spent the last couple years in prison, it still took some time to heal from it," this coming from a man who had his left eye melon balled out of his skull by Larewen long ago, without any pain killing spells or potions. While I was in prison, she came back to life at some point and fell in love with someone else because she assumed I died." I mean, what else was she supposed to think? "I don't lay blame on anyone. I just… I feel like I wasn't good enough," with that he blinks away the threatening tears and clears his throat before gently kissing the top of Emilia's head where her hair parts. "Of course I'm staying at your farm," that smartass smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, "and when you're not playing dress up, you should come see how filthy I made the place and visit." Funny coming from a man with a love of books and a severe neatfreak trait that borders on OCD.


Emilia settled into the comfort of her friend. It was not many that could stand being so close to the frozen woman for long. Once in awhile it got lonely when you couldn’t share that natural connection with people around you. So, she would soak it in because tomorrow he was leaving for Chartsend. She chuckled softly, “If you can make it more messy that I did I will have to bring you a crate of rum!” Emilia laughed, a gentle one that faded out quickly. The healer was rather the opposite of the avian next to her, as she was to most people. Growing up a farmer it was in her nature to get dirty and be messy. It was a wonder she had cleaned up so well in the recent year. “I know it is hard to not lay blame when a wound is broken open. I can imagine that on both sides there is going to be an ache from this, but you just cannot let it swallow you up. I mean, I already lost my feather-stick once. I don’t think I could handle it again.” She jabbed an elbow playfully into his side. “You know, you cannot say that you were not good enough. Bringing someone back from the other side is not an easy task, especially when that someone is dead in a far away land. I don’t imagine it was easy for her to take that step to start over. And someday, when you find that step it will be just as hard. Either way, you will always have a short-stack around to pester you, so whoever you do find better be okay with knowing that I am part of the deal.”


Irenic gorans softly at her joke about the condition of her fourth home in Chartsend because he already feels the need to clean it. The avian barely realizes that his skin had been repelling her iciness, but not uncomfortably so for the genasi. Irenic decides not to debate the fact that he isn't good enough because he'd done nothing but lie, cheat, steal, manipulate and kill most of his life. He used to be a true monster and all of this was just payback, he just knew it in his jellies. An obnoxious guffaw comes from him, "uhh, no!? No, no, no, I am going back to the good old days when I used to just sleep around and do what I wanted… You know, whenever I get done wallowing in self pity," he raises his half empty bottle and knocks it back again. For the first time in a long time, he looks down at her with a charming grin on his face in genuine kindness, "you better pester me anyway, short-stack."


Emilia flashed a warm smile up at Irenic for a moment, “Oh, you better count on that for the rest of your life and the afterlife, feather-stick. I promise I will haunt your arse just to make sure you don’t forget that no matter what kind of self-pity-sleep-all-day monster you think you are that there is a frozen monster there with you. Us not-good-enoughs gotta stick together, ya?” She laughed before taking a long swig of the drink in her hand. It was a chilled liquid now having prolonged exposure to her hand, yet she didn’t feel the effects of it in her system. Irenic could use the drink to wallow in his self-pity, but not her. Little in life affected her anymore. She was numb to the world in more ways than one. Setting the drink down in her lap she reached over to poke his nose, “Don’t worry, the ranch house should be pretty clean. Dusty, most likely from lack of use, but I did make sure to clean it up well prior to leaving it. I am not that terrible of a monster.”


Irenic quirks a brow down at her, "careful. Smiling like that may just melt you." He half heartedly nips the air after her finger in a slowed reaction to the nose poke, but then he groans while gulping more of the alcohol down, "look at us, a couple of monsters - who would of thought?" Yes that is a reference to the Paul Rudd gif. "What am I even supposed to do now? There is no crown I am chasing down to kill," Brennia. "There is no vampire that owns me," Larewen. "There is no queen I owe a pledge to," Josleen. "I am still a widower…" Is this supposed to be some reset button on his life? He wishes he'd been consulted about that first and before the conversation gets carried away, "nevermind. Lets get forked up and make arses out of ourselves," he clanks their bottles together and drinks some more.


Emilia was still smiling after he tempted to bite her withdrawing finger. Perhaps the woman would just melt into a puddle for showing emotions. A laugh, “Oh, my feather-stick. I will drink along with you and promise to tell you how much of an arse you make out of yourself. I can’t get drunk anymore. I mean I have tried and got bored after over fifty drinks. I really do miss the little things of being a human sometimes. Like getting drunk or burning my hand and being able to feel the pain. Sadly, you are stuck with a useless drinking partner. But at least I am a great cuddler?” Nawh, she wasn’t good at that either, but she could pretend to have a talent. After the clanked bottle she took another drink.


Irenic pats the top of her head playfully, "-your- featherstick now? I've upgraaaded I thingk?" Her mention of being a good cuddler got a wily grin from the man and a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, "yuh? You sure fire monstuur izunt gonna make ya melt, my szort-stack?" What an opposite pair these two. He boops her nose back while saying, "boop." He spends the rest of the night chuckling, drinking and making an ass out of himself before slumping further down in the chair with his head resting on top of hers as he sort of cuddle/sat/slept.


Emilia enjoyed the night drinking with Irenic as he made himself an arse here and there. That is until he finally passed out, half sleeping/half sitting/half cuddled into her. Once the Genasi was sure her friend was asleep she would slip out from under him, gently lay him down into the cushions on the floor, and then cover him up with a large blanket. She would also leave a glass of water on the table next to him for when he woke up and because she was such a good friend she climbed into her chair at her desk and watched over him, that is until she fell asleep curled up in her chair.