RP:Visitors from Down the Street

Summary: Alvina and Lionel pay visit to Pilar so that the engineer can take necessary measurements and the swordsman can watch over her. Pilar's lover, Sandra -- an opposite personality to the woman Casandra -- fills the guests in on Pilar's substantial peril.

Frostmaw: Fort

Alvina, now inside the fort and shaking snow from her shoulders, rounds the corner of the corridor she knew Pilar to be staying in. The bard had spent the night just a few rooms down the night before, so it’s to be expected. She hesitates, Lionel at her side, before rapping her knuckles against the aging wood of the door. Her look spoke volumes. Maybe Lionel even knew the nervous state the vampire was already in… Alvina hoped she would have slept some during the night. She could recall her own nightmares after being rescued from a mad man. It wasn’t comforting to say one day they would end, but she hoped just being there might be comfort enough. “Ms. Pilar?” She called, just to be safe through the rough grain between them. “G-Good morning, I’ve come with the Knight Commander, Sir Lionel?” It felt odd on her tongue to give him a full title. Was she announcing him? How silly. It was more for Pilar’s uneasy state than anything else.

Pilar had been awake for some time, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, when she heard the knock at the door. She sat up suddenly, tense. She looked to her lover next to her, the green-skinned woman still fast asleep. Pilar hesitated to respond. Was it really Alvina with Lionel, or some trick? Beside her, the dragon woman's wings twitched. Pilar sighed. She would be safe, so long as her lover was there. Not wanting to wake her, however, she carefully got out of bed. Grabbing her crutches, she made her way to the door. She opened it slowly, blinking in the torchlight. "Good... good morning," she said.

The previous evening had been abnormally kind to one customarily haunted Lionel O'Connor. After escorting Alvina to her chambers, he'd taken one brief stroll around the perimeter -- conventionally, it was six -- and then crawled into his bed and slept. Laying in bed and actually sleeping... now that was a fine uncommon thing. What was it about the previous eve which had nestled him so, given how close he'd been to breaking? Questions for another time. For now, it is enough to worry that his newfound engineer acquaintance is rather agitated. And when she calls his name with title attached, he ponders how curiously odd it is to hear it from her when half the military says it freely every week. The door swings open with Lionel mid-thought. The thought itself is an awkward blend of past and present. Pilar's greeting brandishes a smile upon the Catalian's lips, but in his mind he's drifting to the pending mission to Northern Sage and a look his late wife had given him whenever he'd sacrificed too much rest. So it is, then, that despite his desire to be here and check up on a friend, the man seems almost distant. It passes quickly and he straightens and casually waves. "Good morning, Pilar. Two guests to see you -- us!" For all his demon-slaying, the lad's still a touch inept in the art of low-key conversation.

Alvina turned 'round to watch Lionel's quiet face before Pilar answered. The bard spun back around to greet her. She wondered why the woman hadn't summoned them inside? Each day is a new day. Perhaps her suspicions arose anew. "G-good morning. Did you sleep well?" The bard grinned, turning to the Knight when he gestured between them. Ah yes, they were indeed guests, here to visit her. How silly of him to note it again! "I hope we aren't bothering you." A steady smile situated itself firmly in her expression. "Did you sleep well? Did I already ask that?" She laughs, a bit nervously. It's her last day in the fort, she's quite nervous about heading home... and on top of that, twins make for loosy sleeping conditions. Already she felt out of breath and ready to head back to her own bed. "I was wondering if I could take a couple measurements, before I go?" A cloth roll of measuring tape is pulled from her ever present satchel, tucked away neatly beneath her blue cloak. "I'll come back, before long, to fit you with the design. I'll be able to make any small adjustments here, on site...but I'm afraid I just can't build it without being at home." A tone of apology in her voice, she mantained a cheery grin.

Pilar looked between the two of them. "Thank you for coming, it's nice to see you. Um..." Pilar glanced back into her room, then at Alvina. "You aren't bothering me at all... You can come in, but be quiet, please. I... I have another guest, and she's sleeping." "No she's not." Green eyes peered at Pilar through the darkness, the dragon woman getting out of bed and walking over. She opened the door wider to look at the newcomers. The dragon was dressed in a black nightgown with lace around the collar. "Hey there. Name's Sandra." She looked at the bard. "You must be the woman Pilar told me about, the one making her a leg? C'mon in." She then looked at Lionel, eyes taking him in, and she smirked, but said nothing. Pilar coughed awkwardly. "Um... yes. Come in."

Lionel soaks in the dialogue between the two women as he makes quiet note of Alvina's labored breathing. Unwittingly, his brow furrows and his azure eyes take on a quick concerned flicker. Alexia was this heavy with the children the day before she... his cheek twitches and he exhales, smiling pleasantly again and glancing toward Pilar to affirm he's still an active and willing member of this social call. By now, however, it's almost too late. There's only so much a man can say when unexpectedly a green-skinned draconian is smirking at him silently and Pilar is asking them in. Never a dull moment. "Thanks." As he steps nimbly inside the quarters, it's all he can do to mentally praise himself for avoiding his usual, awkward 'don't mind if I do.' At 29, Lionel is almost capable of manners. By 49, he might be hosting parties without incident. "How have you been?" He twirls around after walking a few paces too many, nodding to Pilar and easing his back. "And it's good to meet you, Sandra. The name's Lionel."

Alvina spared a quick glance at Lionel as he walked in first, then Sandra, and finally back to Pilar with a smile. She felt rude, for disturbing her, especially since she had a guest. “Thank you,” she nodded to Pilar, stepping through the doorway but staying close to Pilar’s side. That’s why she’d come after all. To measure, and to make sure Pilar was well. It was easy to guess not having to sleep alone made things a little easier. “And Nice to meet you. I'm Alvina.” Her phrase followed Lionel’s, sounding like an echo, except for her name. “Pilar, do you mind?” The measure tape is displayed again before the bard gestures Pilar to remain standing, if she could. “I just need to take some notes…” She pulled a quill and bits of parchment paper from her satchel, holding the quill between her lips while she rummaged for the paper to write on. Then she unburdened herself by removing the satchel, and her cloak, so she could kneel in the floor. Beneath the deep navy, she wore a dress composed of the exact same cloth. A modest dress with lots of give, especially in places that mattered (her giant stomach, most notably). At this angle her measuring tape could take in the length and width of Pilar’s remaining leg without incident. In an instant, she was absorbed in her notes, and would leave Lionel to fend for himself in the ways of pleasant conversation with both Pilar and Sandra. The only sound she makes is the occasion sigh or grunt to switch her position around to wrap the tape around Pilar’s ankle, kneecap, and eventually the shallow width of her thigh.

"Good to meet you," Sandra said to the two of them. As Alvina again brought up the measuring, Pilar nodded. "O-okay..." With some difficulty, due to her crutches, she hiked up her nightgown to reveal both her intact leg and the stump. Sandra whistled, bringing a blush to Pilar's cheeks. Pilar's stump ended just above where her knee would have been. Sandra sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. "So, Knight Commander. How'd you end up stuck in Frostmaw?" Sandra seemed better suited to idle chit-chat than Pilar, who was focusing on Alvina. "You okay?" Pilar asked quietly. The bard was heavily pregnant, after all.

Lionel finds himself quietly fascinated with Alvina's expert motions of measurement and note-taking. She seems possessed of spirit -- not a rare thing for the man to see from another, but it seldom concerns matters like these. Sandra's inquiry nearly catches him unawares, but a practiced grace permits him to appear poised. "Oh, you know," he gives his voice some humor, "you move around so many times and you're bound to end up north eventually." He smirks. "It's a long tale, in truth. I used to do a little swordsmanship in defense of the realm." Modesty is a trait the Catalian has only recently studied; Briar Ku Risu has informed him it can go a long way with a conversation. "Fought in a few wars a decade prior. Just a kid, then, really, but such is the way of things. When I returned, I saw the good that Queen Hildegarde had been doing and she offered me a job." He stretches his left arm, easing the sore. "Do tell Lady Alvina and I something of yourself, too, Sandra!"

Alvina pulled the length of tape taunt against Pilar’s skin with careful tension. It was not so much that it would be uncomfortable but it was snug. When Pilar’s question reaches her ears, the bard looks up, suddenly aware she was breathing heavily. How embarrassing. “Oh yes, of course!” She whispers, with a chuckle, lighting back up now that she’s talking to someone. It is indeed like a switch, when she’s in the mood of creating, all else falls by the wayside. Even her polite and genuine smile. “It’s a bit light lifting weights, being pregnant. Or like being a sturdy stallion, in charge of two or three passengers. Every movement takes a bit more energy. I like to think moving around helps me keep this thin figure.” She winks then, after their hushed conversation and starts to pack the measuring tape away to write down her final counts. Alvina decides to take a few more minute to steady her breath, remaining propped up on her knees in the floor, before jumping back in the conversation. Lionel had covered beautifully, or so she assumed, up to this point. “Yes, please tell us about yourself Miss Sandra. Any friend of Pilar’s is a friend of…ours?” She looked at Lionel to confirm, was it rude to lump them together, having just met and become friends themselves? She didn’t want to speak out of turn or for the Knight certainly. “Hildegarde is indeed a Queen worth serving. I’ve never seen anyone so worthy of the title.”

Pilar nodded in understanding. "I remember when my sister was pregnant..." she murmured quietly. The memories of her family only compounded her pain, and she fell silent. Sandra glanced at the two others and shrugged. "Well, not much to tell. Just a dragon trying to make it in this crazy world." Pilar suddenly jumped as if startled and Sandra was by her side in an instant, catching her before she fell. The vampire was visibly distraught, trying not to cry. "Again?" Sandra asked, voice betraying concern. Pilar sniffled and nodded.

Lionel smiles pleasantly at Sandra's simplification, nodding as if knowingly. In the corner of his eye, though, he espies Alvina's labored breathing and something sparks in him -- worry? When she looks to him for confirmation, he's already looking straight ahead at her. Tad awkward at times, this Lionel. He covers ground with a steadfast cant of the head. Some kind of nod, basically. "Ours," he'll repeat, but in a distant sort of style so as to seem a natural echo to Alvina's own word. It's the best a man like him can do in a room full of people to let someone know he's their companion. Then Pilar is jumping and Lionel flashes his gaze to her. He moves two steps swiftly to her side but stops in a skid when Sandra shows she has this covered. Concern streaks his features but he bites his lip in silence.

Alvina looks to Lionel, then Pilar and Sandra. Seated where she is, it's rude to ask for help when Pilar is experiencing a shock. A vision or a memory. Something to flash her back. It's painfully obvious on her face. The bard knows it too well. “Sandra...Did she sleep last night?” Her hand is grasping at the air, shooting glances at Lionel in the hopes he'll read her silent signals and assist her in standing. All of her equipment has been tucked away safely in her satchel, her hands are free to grasp his when he comes to her aid and rights her. Though she doesn't utter a word to him, her emerald eyes catch his gaze, with thanks. A grateful nod before her optics glaze with a curious caution. These nightmares do not dispell in hours, days, or even weeks. It might be a while before the vampire can sleep a solid night without potions or brews. She wants to take Pilar in her arms and hold her, ground her in the present with her weighted presence but she can do naught. Sandra has her. Sandra, with her concerned and loving eyes, will catch Pilar should she fall. Alvina can say nothing. She waits patiently for the silence to pass, the answer to her question of Sandra, chewing a polite excuse to leave between her teeth. Would Pilar prefer to be alone with the dragoness? Her pale digits remain in Lionel's, an oversight in her whirling mind, that she has yet to let go. Finally, the warmth of his hand pulls her from her mind and she lets him go, mildly ashamed for holding on so long. “What can I do, anything.” She begs of Sandra, her gaze flickering like a wild flame in a gusting wind to Pilar, Sandra, and Lionel. All panic is tamped down to appear as mild concern, and nothing more.

Pilar held Sandra, shaking slightly, burying her face in the taller woman's chest. Sandra stroked her hair and looked at Alvina. "Yeah... Not well, not even with her sleeping potion, but she's been sleeping." Sandra squeezed Pilar gently. "She's been cursed, I guess you could say. She keeps seeing bodies falling from the sky." Sandra looked down at the vampire in her arms. "Do you want Cassy?" Pilar sniffled and nodded. Sandra nodded back, and her green eyes turned amber. Cassy kissed the top of Pilar's head, then looked shyly at the other two. "Um... Hi," she said quietly.

Lionel will feel the warmth of Alvina's hand depart and immediately become aware of a certain Frostmawian coldness in his own open palm. A rare thing for a man fused by a spirit of Ishaarite fire. Broadly speaking, the only reason the Catalian ever dresses 'for the winter' is to ward off tired old questions from folks who don't understand the way his sword's magic operates. Yet Halycanos' internal heat is no holy grail; there are times, and they seem unpredictable to the man (when in fact the answer's as simple as they come), that suddenly Lionel is cold. There upon his face is an evident lingering worry. It hasn't gone away, but the reasons are now more complicated. Alvina, potentially pushing herself to the brink with this workstuff, had him thoughtfully uncertain. Pilar collapsing shifted that uncertainty into higher gear. Green eyes become amber on the woman Sandra and 'Cassy' presumably arrives -- and yet, for a man like Lionel, this ranks third on his list of issues with the encounter. It's either quite fine or very bad, and Pilar seems to have adamantly desired this, so it's probably the former. For all his internal monologues, he is abruptly aware he's been too silent. "Hello there," he says cordially, his hand at last withdrawn -- to his pocket, for warmth, but none comes. "To whom do we owe the pleasure?"

Alvina stands by, processing Sandra's words. Pilar isn't sleeping. Her nightmares seep into her waking life. It's every symptom of someone who has survived a great trauma and continued on. She's quickly thinking of things she could say or do to aid the vampire but Sandra...or Cassy? seems to have it all under control. The dragoness changes, subtlety but still it happens. Her posture shifts from the bold, confidence of Sandra with her shoulders held high to someone smaller. It's as if this replacement is trying to shrink from their view, even by the sound of her voice. She takes up less space in the room, but the space she does fill is overflowing with warmth and compassion. It might be an unfair assessment but Alvina isn't trying to be biased. Only calculated. It's her natural reaction to want to maternally cradle Pilar in her own arms but...Pilar has a companion to do just that. Alvina can't figure out what to do with her hands, so she intertwines her fingers and greets the newcomer with a motherly smile. "Hello there." Then, after all introductions have been sorted, the bard turns to Pilar. "I want to give you something...if you will allow it. It's nothing in the way of helping you sleep...I'm afraid my skills aren't to that level but I can mix you a salve. For the visions..Sandra spoke of?" Her hands then untangle themselves and shuffle around in her satchel, to remove the salve. It was an clear oil, swirling in an aqua vial, infused with the same bardic magics she'd used on Pilar when they'd first met. To steady her nerves and calm her soul. It was not a strong mixture, because bardic magics existed in sounds...it was a dilute version of her own singing, trapped in this bottle. An odd remedy to offer, but all she could beyond a replacement limb. There was no cure for the broken spirit or mind, beyond love, patience, and time. No magic word any of them could speak to repair what had broken inside Pilar. The vampiress only had charge of those fragments...and when, and how, they came to be back together. Alvina reaches out, carefully to either Cassy or Pilar to take it from her. "Apply it right below your eyes. Stretch it out to your temples if it doesn't help right away."

The dragon looked between the two others who now knew her... condition. "I'm Cassy." Duh. "I'm, um... Sandra's... Well, we share a body. It's complicated." She rubbed Pilar's arms as Pilar trembled. The vampire looked to Alvina as the salve was offered. Gingerly, she reached out and took it from her. "Thank... Thank you..." Cassy smiled softly and kissed her forehead, then thanked Alvina as well.

Lionel scratches his chin and makes a mental note to ask Alvina for one of her little cocktails sometime himself. Then he moves beside the door to provide maximum space for Alvina and the rest in their discussion. He glances recurringly to the engineer in all her focused prestige; should she really be moving around so much? It's comparably more difficult to let the worry overtake him when he's standing in awe at her vastness of knowledge. Memories drift, as so oft they do for the Catalian. Allies like Griff Morivan and Valaria Erenbrook in the early years and various state alchemists later on. Then he thinks of Valaria. Has it truly been nearly 13 years since her passing? How can that be? How is it possible that so much time has overtaken him? Valaria. Another woman with child like his Alexia. And like Alexia, dead before delivery. Such morbid thoughts. Why is Lithrydel so cruel? Not that he's found things better elsewhere. He sighs, quietly so as not to disturb, and leans back against the wall with one foot to it for relaxed support. Lionel could almost drift off to the dulcet tones of Alvina Liadon instructing her 'patient.' Then at last he speaks. "I'm sorry this has happened to you, Pilar." Simple words leave his lips but the tone they carry is rich and genuine.

Alvina smiles as Cassy introduces herself. It's something the bard has indeed heard of but never met someone with...a form of split personality! And they were so different! “Pilar, I know this might sound like something people just -say- but music can really be a good point of healing. Playing an instrument, getting lost in a melody...even mixing music and magic, like the bard's guild I'm a part of. It's refreshing...to process through things without needing any words at all. If you ever want to trying, something like music therapy or really anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to call me.” A wave of weariness overcomes her. So soon after waking, she already feels like the nighttime is fast approaching. She expended too much of herself, trying to look like she wasn't struggling. To mask her own discomfort. “If you ladies would be so kind as to excuse me.” Alvina offers a bright smile to Pilar and Cassy while running a flat palm down the front of her gown before picking up her cloak. “I have a couple more things to check on before I head home. Please, take care of each other. It was lovely to meet you Cassy and Pilar? I'll be back soon. Don't fret.” At the conclusion of this farewell greeting, she steps towards Lionel with the same grin. “Would it be too much to ask your company on my final errands? I'm afraid I have to call on your services in helping me stand once or twice more yet.” A joke, mostly. “You still need to tell me if you did any better at cards last night than the night before. I'm really curious to see how your men see you now!”

Pilar looked at Lionel with hollow eyes. "Thank you..." Her mouth twitched at the mention of music. She did miss playing the piano... and dancing... Cassy caught the odd look on her face and squeezed her. Pilar looked down. "I... I'll think about it..." Cassy lifted her chin. "You should do more than think about it, love. It'd be good for you. I'll find you a piano to play. There must be one somewhere in this old fort." As Alvina excused herself, Pilar frowned. She didn't want her new friend to go, but she understood. "Take care of yourself, Alvina," Pilar said softly. "Yes, take care," Cassy echoed.

Lionel, at Alvina's mention of music, begins to formulate something like a plan in his mind. It might do to speak with the songstress, Raphaline, about a special performance. Now that the woman's services are fully committed to Frostmaw, she's been asking him for guidance and he's not known quite what to say. Until now, as it were. The Catalian smiles at all those gathered, truly struck by this idea. "I'd be happy to assist you," he informs Alvina, extending his arm ever so slightly to her in offer for support. A joke, mostly. "If you'll excuse us, then, ladies." Lionel's courtesies have been improving. He cracks open the door and keeps close pace with his companion.